#and his reactions to them singing with the thumbs up

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Russ Ballard - Live in Munich

[pucksandpower]

Use Your Words

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Summary: in which your boyfriends show you that there’s no shame in using your safeword

Warnings: 18+ content and use of a safeword

Based on @uramakimochi’s request

Note: the fact that I literally manifested the Charlando podium while writing this? I wish team orders didn’t play such a big role during the race but I will take the results and not look a gift horse in the mouth 🫶

Charles and Lando are both rummaging through their suitcases, looking for neckties as you wait on the bed. After their double podium finish earlier today, the three of you decided to have a little private celebration back at the hotel.

“Found one!” Charles holds up a red silk tie with a mischievous grin.

Lando chuckles, pulling out a striped tie in shades of blue. “This’ll do the trick.”

You bite your lip in anticipation as they approach you with the neckties. Charles slips behind you, gently gathering your wrists and using the tie to secure them together. You shiver at his warm breath on your neck as he works.

“Too tight?” He whispers. You shake your head slightly, unable to hide your smile.

Lando kneels in front of you, looping his tie into a makeshift blindfold and carefully covering your eyes. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” you murmur, plunged into comforting darkness. Your senses sharpen, focused on the sounds of their movements and the occasional brush of fingers against your skin.

“Perfect,” Lando’s voice is low. You feel the bed shift as he rises. “We’re going to take such good care of you tonight, princess.”

A thrill runs through you. The three of you agreed on a safeword when you first started seeing each other, a sure fire way to get any driver’s attention and slow things down. But tonight you have zero intention of using it.

Charles’ lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You looked so gorgeous standing below the podium, vibrating with pride. I could hardly keep my hands off you.”

You let out a shaky breath as his mouth blazes a trail down the side of your neck. “Ch-Charles ...”

“Shhh,” he soothes, nipping at your pulse point. “No need for words yet.”

Lando’s hands glide over your thighs, pushing them gently apart. You automatically part your lips in a soft gasp. Fingertips tease along your inner thighs, drawing maddeningly close before retreating.

“So responsive,” Lando marvels. You can’t see him but you know he’s grinning. “I haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re already squirming.”

Your cheeks flush hot. You want to retort but all that comes out is a quiet whine as Lando’s fingers finally make contact. He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

Charles slips one hand beneath the loose hem of your top, palm skating over your ribs and up to cup your breast. You arch into his touch with a small moan. His thumb brushes over your nipple, adding delicious friction through the thin fabric of your bra.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles in approval. “The way your body sings for us ...”

His mouth finds yours, tongue instantly seeking entrance that you grant with a whimper. The kiss is deep and hungry, leaving you dizzy and panting when he finally releases your lips.

Lando’s long fingers have been steadily working between your thighs, stroking and teasing your increasingly slick folds. You buck your hips without meaning to, desperate for more substantial contact.

“Please,” you finally manage to beg. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Patience, darling,” Lando tuts, though his own breathing is growing ragged. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder for better access, leaning in to lick a broad stripe right through your heated center.

You cry out sharply, tugging instinctively at the tie binding your wrists. The heat of Lando’s mouth and the soft lap of his tongue are glorious torment. Charles smothers your keening noises with another searing kiss.

Lando groans his appreciation against your tender flesh, lapping and sucking insistently. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls. “Been dreaming about this all day ...”

Arousal is throbbing through you like a second heartbeat. Charles’ lips abandon yours to trail down your throat, his other hand cupping your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingertips. Every nerve is exquisitely alive, buzzing beneath their skilled touches.

Lando’s tongue flicks over your throbbing clit and your back arches off the bed. Your loud mewl is half pleasure, half plea. He grants you no reprieve, mouth working enthusiastically to take you apart piece by piece. Charles captures your lips again, stealing the cries from your throat.

You’re quickly soaring higher, spiraling toward that glorious precipice. Their murmured praises and scorching caresses urge you ever onward. But just when you think you’re about to tumble over the edge, Lando’s mouth abandons you entirely.

You nearly sob at the loss, hips frantically chasing that delicious friction. Charles soothes you with gentler kisses, murmuring praise against your swollen lips. “So good for us, mon ange. You’re doing beautifully.”

You dimly feel the bed shift again, and then there’s a warm mouth trailing kisses up your inner thigh. Charles, blessing you with more delicious stimulation. But just when you think he’s going to grant you relief, Lando’s seeking lips find your other thigh.

“No, no please,” you beg between panting breaths. If they keep denying you for much longer, you’ll go mad. There’s a soft tsking noise and you feel Lando’s fingers combing through your hair. Charles continues lavishing attention on your shuddering flesh.

“Use your words,” Lando murmurs huskily. “What do you need, love?”

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. “Please just … I need ...”

“Tell us, mon amour,” Charles prompts, lips brushing your hipbone.

There’s really only one way to circumvent this maddening tease. You suck in a breath, steadying yourself.

“Box,” you force out. “Box box box.”

All movement instantly stills. Your heart is thundering a rapid staccato, waiting with bated breath for them to respond to the agreed safeword. You bite your lip, instantly second guessing your decision.

Fingers stroke along your cheeks, Lando’s touch infinitely gentle. “Sweetheart,” his normally playful voice is low and soothing, all traces of teasing vanished. “Are you hurting? Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head minutely, abruptly blinking back unexpected tears of frustration behind the blindfold. “No no, I just … please can I just ...”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lando hushes you. His lips lightly brush your forehead. “Take a deep breath, pretty girl.”

You obey, inhaling shakily through your nose. Charles presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek.

“Talk to us,” he urges softly. “Don’t be afraid to voice your needs.”

“I w-want ...” you stammer, toes curling. “I need you both so badly, please. No more teasing. I just want you to make me come.”

There’s a pause, and for a heart-stopping moment you fear you’ve ruined the mood entirely. But then Lando lets out a low groan of relief.

“Look at you using your words so prettily,” he praises. Charles chuckles softly beside you, nuzzling against your jaw. You feel the bed shift again as Lando moves into position.

“We would never deny you, love,” he murmurs. “Not when you ask so sweetly.”

His long fingers slide home, curling and plunging into your dripping heat. You cry out at the sudden stretch and glorious pressure. Charles lays claim to your mouth again, greedily swallowing your moans.

Lando’s palm fits perfectly against your bundle of nerves, grinding in time with the thrust of his fingers. The spark of pleasure races through you, building and spiraling rapidly higher. Distantly you hear your own broken whimpers bleeding into Charles’ mouth.

“That’s it, ma belle,” he growls, lips trailing over your cheeks and throat. “Let us hear how good we make you feel.”

Lando curls his fingers, nailing that sublime spot inside you over and over until you begin to shake apart. Your cries rise to a sobbing keen, back arched taut as a bowstring.

“Come for us, darling.” Lando’s command is heated, fingers sinking deep. “Let go.”

You shatter with a high wail, rapture cascading through you in scorching waves. Lando strokes you through it, coaxing every last spasm of bliss with his touch until you finally slump boneless against the mattress.

Strong arms envelop you, tucking you securely against dual heartbeats. Gentle fingers trace your features, brushing away the dampness beneath your blindfold. You’re surrounded with warmth and adoration, coddled by their praise.

“Belle fille,” Charles murmurs, lips finding your temple.

“So perfect,” Lando echoes, stroking back sweat-dampened strands of hair. “Our good girl ...”

You sigh in utter contentment, letting their cherished words soak into your very bones. No matter what heights you reach, they’ll always be there to catch you in their arms.

[little-diable]

Hold me close - Prof!Carlisle Cullen (smut)

I know this isn't what you requested @emberfrostlovesloki – but I hope you still enjoy it! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Let's be honest, this is pure pwp, prof!Carlisle worries about the reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, prof x student, reader is legal ofc, age gap

Pairing: Prof!Carlisle x fem!student!reader (1.8k words)

The room was filled with students, a buzzing atmosphere that trapped them, forcing anticipation to flush through their systems. Every Thursday morning they found themselves in this room, eyes glued to the professor most of them fawned over, begging for a few seconds of his attention. 

Professor Cullen had joined the university a few semesters ago, instantly becoming the students favourite professor. He had something to him that drew the students to him, lured closer by the man with golden eyes and frame so tall, they wondered how it must feel to have him towering over them. And trapped in the middle of it all was (y/n), one of the few students the professor called by her first name.

She couldn’t remember how it had all started, longing glances, inside jokes, cold touches. Nothing inappropriate had ever happened between them, Carlisle Cullen wasn’t one to cross lines that could end his career and ruin her future. And yet there was something between them that was anything but professional, an ongoing back and forth neither of them wanted to put an end to. 

“(Y/n)?” His voice cut through the sounds the crowd of students produced as they left the class, already excited for next week. Their eyes met, drawn to one another like moths to flames, silently communicating. He watched her move closer, trembling feet struggling to support her frame, hand darting out to grasp the edge of the table he was leaning against. “Are you alright?”

Concern dripped from the professor’s voice, worried eyes wandering over her features, trying to stop his hand from reaching out to touch her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, trying to find her voice, but the room began to close in on her, unable to speak up as her vision grew blurry, head pounding. 

“Come, let’s get you somewhere quieter.” This time he didn’t manage to stop himself from touching her, hand placed on the small of her back as he guided (y/n) out of the room. Neither of them spared the curious eyes of the other students any of their attention, while Carlisle found himself worrying about (y/n), her mind slowly grew clearer once again, hyperfocusing on his touch. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Just water, please.” A hum left the professor as (y/n) sank down on the comfortable couch placed in Professor Cullen’s office, the room she had been in numerous times before. He moved quickly, placing the glass of water down for her before he sat down next to (y/n), eyes not leaving her features once. “I think I simply forgot to drink enough, I’ll be fine.”

“Mhm, you need to take better care of yourself, love.” The word left his lips before his mind could pick up on the things his mouth was doing, hearing her heartbeat picking up its beat. Even though he’d never admit it out loud, Carlisle loved the way her body was reacting to the things he said, the things he did, wondering how it must feel to have her pressed against him, fully focusing on every little reaction. “I can’t have my best student passing out, can I?”

“Your best? I doubt that.” (Y/n) didn’t dare meet his eyes, breath stuck in her chest as his hand found her chin, forcing her to look at him. For a few seconds neither of them spoke, while her blood began to sing in her ears, his eyes flickered down to her lips, allowing him to focus on the thoughts he had tried to drown out ever since meeting her. She felt his thumb on her trembling lower lip, carefully stroking the soft skin as a gasp left her, unable to stop the sound from leaving her. 

Before either one of them could move, the sound of his alarm going off ripped them apart. Carlisle rose to his feet with a sigh, reaching for his phone to silence it once again. “I’ll have to leave now for my shift at the hospital. Do me a favour and text me tonight, just a small update on how you are feeling.” 

……

Ever since (y/n) had left Professor Cullen’s office, she had wondered if their moments together had truly played out like that or if her confused mind was playing a trick on her. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but be grateful for it, clinging to the memories playing in her mind over and over again. 

She wondered how long she should wait to text him, but ever since 8pm had rolled around, she had been sitting on her bed, eyes focused on her phone. Again and again she tried to type out her message to her professor, wondering what and how she should update him. Her fingers trembled at the mere thought of her professor, mind filled with sinful images she found herself longing for whenever she got time to think. 

Before she could send her text the professor had taken it upon himself to reach out, a simple “How are you doing, (y/n)? Do you need something?”. Heat rose in her body at the sweet message, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing even wider. With her heart pounding in her chest she typed her reply, fuelled by her curiosity and excitement. 

“I am alright, still a bit shaky, but no longer close to passing out. How was your shift?” Her phone was tossed away from her the second she had sent the text, insides churning in excitement, silently praying to whoever was listening that he’d fuel a conversation. 

It didn’t take him long to get back, but not in the form of another text, forcing (y/n) to reach for her buzzing phone as he called her. A deep exhale of warm air left her before she picked up the call, murmuring a soft “Hello?”.

“I don’t like that you’re still feeling unwell, if it’s alright with you I’d like to check on you.” She was glad that the professor couldn’t see her, pupils growing wide as her lips formed another grin. 

“I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do, I’m okay, promise.” (Y/n) could imagine him staring down on her, shaking his head with a displeased sigh leaving him, not trusting the young woman. 

“Nonsense, text me your address, I’ll be there in a few.” 

……

If somebody would have told her back then that within the next hour she’d end up in his lap, arms wrapped around his cold neck, lips locked with his, she probably would have broken out in laughter, doubting that he’d ever give into their game. And yet, here she found herself, straddling the man’s lap, fingers tangled in his golden hair. 

Carlisle’s cold hands moved up and down her back, leaving sparks to shoot down her spine. She kept on trembling, though no longer because of her exhausted body, but because of the things the man made her feel. He kissed her as if he was in search of her soul, chaining her to him with a few simple touches that left her burning from inside out. 

“You can always tell me to stop, love.” She couldn’t help but swoon at the care dripping from his words, holding her close with warm eyes getting lost in hers. (Y/n) cupped his cold cheek, pressing another kiss against his lips before a quiet “Don’t ever stop, please” left her.  

For a few seconds he stared at her before he flipped her onto her back, pressed against her couch with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her gasps left him smirking in pride, lips kissing their way down her throat, allowing her shaking fingers to unbutton the black dress shirt he was wearing. Both were fueled by their desire, unable to ponder on the question whether what they were doing was right or wrong, needing to feel one another. 

“My pretty girl, such a pretty sight. I want to take my time with you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle.” The words left her moaning, eyes threatening to roll back into her head as her teeth left marks on her lower lip.

“Don’t be gentle, mark me up, please. Fuck me, professor.” (Y/n) whimpered the words, coaxing a deep grown from the man as he rose from his position. Without breaking eye contact both got rid of their clothes, bare bodies searching for one another’s closeness. Their lips met once again as he sneaked a hand between their bodies, making moans claw through (y/n). His cold fingers felt all too good against her pulsing bundle, the perfect sensation to push her closer and closer to the edge, once again begging him to fuck her. 

Carlisle was rough with her, forcing his cock into her tightness without another warning, but she was aching for him, desperate for him, ready to give him whatever he wanted from her. The tall man didn’t hold back as he fucked her on her couch, forcing her further into the fabric with his eyes growing darker and darker.

“Jesus, you feel so good, fuck.” (Y/n) kept praising the man, eyes squeezed shut, desperate to focus on the feeling that felt so unfamiliar she wondered if she had ever been touched before. Carlisle chased her lips, hungrily kissing the moaning woman as he fucked her even faster, leaving marks that would turn into bruises the next few days. Marks she’d forever cherish, smiling at the memories she clung to. 

Curses left the two as she clenched around him, unable to stop herself from cumming with his name leaving her, nails scratching at his skin. It took him a few more moments to let go, holding onto her with his dark eyes taking in every inch of her body. The groan leaving Carlisle as he came made (y/n) shudder, studying him with awe laced in her gaze.

“Fuck, that was-” she struggled to find any words as he gave into a laugh rumbling through him, kissing (y/n) once again before he pulled out of her. 

“It was. We can’t go back now, I hope you know that.” (Y/n) pulled him down once again, mumbling a “As if I’d ever want to go back” against his lips. 

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, orgasm control, yandere!ace with a possessive streak, mentions of marking and tattoos and violence, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-seven [ portgas d ace + being possessive ]

“I—“ it was hard to speak. not only was it hard to collect your thoughts and file them into a coherent sentence because it seemed like each, sharp snap of Ace’s hips pounded your brain to mush, but it was difficult to form the syllables with his fingers in your mouth. the first two digits on either hand, hooked into the fleshiest sections of your cheeks, stretching your mouth into an otherwise impossible shape. drool oozed from your pressurized couplet, leaving your chin sparkling, and your words came out slurred. “G—gonna cum!”

you hear him grunt from behind you. no doubt, it’s a reaction to the way your walls constrict against his cock. you always got so tight right before you came, like you were trying to swallow him up. usually, he would brace himself with his palms against your ass and push your face into the pillow, but not this time. “Not yet,” he rasped into your ear, “tell me whose it is.”

your eyelids flutter. your lips were sore from being stretched so wide. your thighs tremble every time his heavy balls smacked against you.

he was telling you no, not to cum, but he wasn’t taking any of the pleasure away, which made it extra difficult to comply.

“Whose is it?”

as if that question wasn’t already answered one thousand times over. everything about your formal self has been stripped. none of the crew referred to you by name, only by ‘Ace’s Girl’. your skin was inked permanently with his name for all to see, and even now— as he fucked you stupid, his had was draped askew on your head. you always smelled of him, and if you didn’t, well it wouldn’t be long before he marked you again. more often than not, he’d drag you on deck and fuck you in front of the rest of the crew until you were babbling and drooling and singing his name, just to remind them that you were his and only his.

all of those contingencies aside, even, you were fiercely loyal to Ace and even accepted your role. the way he possessed you, the way his face reddened up when he caught someone even looking in your direction, the way that he would kick the shit out of anyone that dared lay a hand on you. it turned you on. “Y—yours—“ you choked out, happily. you were certain that one syllable word would persuade him to let you chase your high into the sunset, but you feel his fingers slip from your mouth. calloused palms cradle your soft cheeks as he pulls your head further back, craning your neck until you were bent in an S shape. his hat slides from your head to hang against your back between your shoulder blades, the strings resting against your throat. and you let out a moan, looking up to the ceiling.

“Damn right!”

“Don’t look away,” Ace pants, giving your face a squeeze. “You know I hate it when you do that. Me. Focus on me, baby.”

you do as you’re told, your gaze hazy, but you try to focus on his figure looming over you. it would’ve been hard enough had you simply had to battle the way your body ragdolled underneath him, but your vision was blurry from your heavy lids trying to close.

“Attagirl,” Ace moans in approval, one thumb tracing your bottom lip as your jaw hangs slack. you would’ve been embarrassed at the amount of shiny drool that dribbled onto it if he hadn’t poked the digit into your mouth only moments later, “don’t let those pretty eyes close. Not even they cross. Not even if they wanna roll back in your head. Look at me,” Ace grunts and snorts like a beast, rutting into you rough and deep, “o-only at… me…”

“Ace, h—holy shit!” you cry out, “I need to cum, please! I can’t— can’t hold it anymore!”

Ace grins. it’s a crooked, weak smirk, but it paints his otherwise strained face, and sweat beads against his temples, sticking raven tendrils to his forehead. “Fuck, you feel good.” he barks. his own eyes start to droop, his eyeline flickering from your gaze, down to your lips, where you’ve started to nibble haplessly against his thumb, and then back up. he locked back on to your eyes, pouring every ounce of infatuation he had for you into his staring. “My girl, so tight and warm and all for me, right?” you nod, eyes crossed as you struggle to keep them open. but his were hypnotic. “No one else can ever feel this. No one else can ever have you. Who do you belong to?”

you were shaking with desire, teeth dug into the pad of his thumb as you finally reach your boiling point. “A—Ace!!”

Ace nods, and pulls you closer, dipping down to smear his lips over your swollen ones in a sloppy, heavy-breathed kiss that leaves you mewling and needy to taste more. “Then cum, baby, let the whole crew hear you scream my name this time.”

[amygdalagustd]

You can always borrow me

Summary: Jungkook is busy but you want his attention.

Pairing: jungkook × reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 637

series: Tattoos and kisses

“Jungkoooook,” you whined from the bed.

Your partner sat behind the desk in the corner of the room, one leg popped up against his chest, his eyes focused on whatever he was drawing. He seemed to be unfaced by your somewhat pathetic attempt at getting his attention.

“Jungkoooookieeeee….” you repeated, even more whiny this time.

No reaction again. He didn’t even flinch, didn't even seem to hear you. It was time for more drastic measures. You grabbed the first pillow your hand could find and threw it in his direction.

It hit his head with zero force, but made him look up at you. Two glossy eyes stared into your general direction as you could practically see his brain trying to pull itself away from whatever it was doing.

“Okay,” Jungkook stated, “I did not deserve that vile attack.”

You pouted at him.

“But I'm in grave need of attention!”

He turned his chair away from the desk and towards you, showing you his full frame. He looked soft, wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Suddenly there was a smirk on his face.

You couldn't even react before the same pillow you had thrown slammed into your face at full force. Not even a second later your partner threw himself on top of you, stradling you with his thighs.

His hands quickly found their way to your sides, where he started mercilessly tickling you.

You trashed and squirmed and yelled, but he was simply no match for you.

“Jungkoo….jung…jungkook stoo…stop JUNGKOOK!” You managed to scream out. Throughout the chaos of it all the smirk on his lips never left his face.

“What?” He asked mockingly, “I thought you wanted attention?”

“I do, I do!” You yelled in between laughs. “But not like this!”

Suddenly he stopped, just as abrupt as he had started, and now his face was right there in front of yours and his hands were warm against your skin.

“Like what then?” He asked, staring into your eyes.

You gave yourself a second to stare back into the big doe eyes you had fallen in love with all this time ago. Then, very softly, you pushed him off you and climbed on top of him. He didn't resist, instead let you guide his body onto the mattress. 

“Like this,” you whispered, and you softly kissed him on the lips. 

You sunk down onto his chest and got comfortable cuddling up next to him. As he wrapped his arm around you, you absent-mindedly took his other hand into yours and played with his fingers.

“What were you doing anyway?” You asked.

“Drawing something for army,” he answered.

“Mhm.”

Your eyes went to his hand in yours, and the many tattoos on it. You rubbed over the purple heart with your thumb, and lifted his hand to your lips.

With the utmost care in the world you placed a kiss on each of his knuckles, one for each letter on them.

A. R. M. Y.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook chuckled.

“Thanking them for letting me borrow you.”

Jungkook snorted and pulled you closer to him. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and then one on your lips. Your body automatically pulled itself closer to him as you felt his arms wrap around you tighter.

“You can always borrow me,” he said.

He leaned in to kiss you again, but stopped right before his lips touched yours. 

A little smirk on his lips and then he started singing.

“Every hour, every minute, every second, you know night after night, I'll be-”

“Yeah yeah,” you interrupted him, “seven days a week, I got it.”

You pulled him closer and kissed him quickly, not giving him the opportunity to respond, but you were sure he could feel the smile on your lips against his. 

[shirefantasies]

I loved both of your new updates, with the Hobbit characters and Fellowship reacting to you calling them pretty. How do you imagine the elves replying when you call them pretty? Such as Lindir, Arwen, Haldir, Elrond and Figwit?

Lindir and Figwit are one and the same, that’s why there's only one :) here’s how I think it would go:

The Elves’ Reaction to You Calling Them Pretty

Gets sappy: Arwen, Lindir, Legolas

Shock: Elrond, Haldir, Feren

No you: Galadriel, Thranduil

Slowly, widely grinning, Arwen’s gaze falls from yours slightly, only to slide back. “You flatter me,” she says, voice lowering to a near-whisper as she steps closer, “especially for one who knows my heart is in your hands.” Flustered is the only word you could use to describe the look that crosses Lindir’s face, especially as you reach over to tuck a strand of his long dark hair behind his ear. A smile creeps across it, oh yes, but what can he do besides respond that no word that he knows can begin his description, no song he could write, would do you justice half as proper as he should like. Legolas bursts into a big, bashful smile before you even finish your sentence, reaching to take your hand and hold it against his chest. At first he says nothing, his dark eyes simply swimming in yours before he speaks. "I know not what I did to deserve such a love as you have given me, but I hope I do it again and again."

Taken aback, Elrond nearly leans away from your touch before seemingly thinking better of it, pale skin of his cheek resuming contact with your palm and bringing a rush of warmth with it. "You see beauty in the strangest of places," he chuckles, "in all things and every face you look upon. If only all of Middle-Earth could see as you do." And with that, his lips are on yours. Haldir tilts his head in- confusion? before his eyes are searching the gaze upon them, finding nothing but sincerity swimming in the beautiful color of your eyes. A smile breaks across his face, small but deeply affectionate, as he shakes his golden head. "I know not what to say beyond thanking the Valar for the gift of your love." You almost burst into a laugh at the way Feren's big brown eyes widen, turning like saucers as if you'd shifted to some unheard tongue mid-sentence. "Yes, you," you reiterate, reaching up to caress his face, the gorgeous arch of his cheekbone, "do I not make it apparent enough all the beauty I see in you?" Flushing, Feren simply shakes his head and leans into your touch before thinking better of it, turning instead to take your hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "Not at all. I was simply thinking of all the ways I should be returning the favor."

Amusement plays upon Galadriel's lips, loving glow overtaking her at your compliment, tinging her cheeks and glittering in her fair blue eyes. “Would that you could see through my eyes, meleth nîn,” she chuckles, reaching up to trace a pale hand along your hair, down the rise of your cheekbone, and to gently brush your lips with her thumb. Each motion a silent affirmation that has your heart singing as you grant her the kiss she asks for. “Well, aren’t you charming?” Thranduil teases, but all you can see in his eyes is pure, brimming love. “These are not your words, love, but mine.” His smile is wide, welcoming as the arms that pull you against the king’s back, elegant lips pecking your neck, then your cheek. “Your sincerity is a gift to this world, though. You say what you think whether it is what I wish or not. I suppose we can say I got lucky this time, did I not? As I do every day I have you by my side.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🥰

[syrma-sensei]

→ Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.2: A New Window

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: Pre-canon; in the early 1980s.

word count: 2.6k.

Warnings/Tags: Abusive relationship, angst, self-care, Ben's potty mouth, dick talk (It's Ben, what do you expect?), implied non/dub-con, power imbalance, misogyny, implied prostitution...

Summary: Soldier Boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

When your manager told you you were to sing side by side with Soldier Boy, you didn't believe him. Despite the fact Jack has a strong proclivity to humour — depraved humour at that, you know he seldom jests about business. Jack has a strict code when it comes to you. His precious little asset. So, when he says you are to sing with America's greatest hero, then you are.

“S-Soldier Boy?” Your voice is but a squeaky hush. You still find it intimidating, albeit quite ironic to say the least.

In spite of your stupor, you curb a scoff and suffice to have a private laugh between you and yourself. You never thought the Soldier Boy would be easy.

Jack smirks, his foxy eyes glimmering, “I had a call with the Legend early this morning, he said Soldier Boy had made a specific request for a collaboration with you. He wants you to stand by his side for his next cover song.”

As you come off it, you realise it really shouldn't have been a surprise to you. The man literally eye-fucked you last night with his rather captivating green eyes. You could perceive the primal desire that seared within them when he spoke and flirted with you. You're used to this kind of reaction from men, of course. You weren't in the entertainment industry for that long, but you've always fancied yourself a quick learner; and Jack made sure you learn faster. The real surprise to you is that Soldier Boy is being subtle about it. You gotta hand it to him, you're rather impressed.

“You seem to have made quite the impression on Soldier Boy last night, sweetheart.” Jack remarks, and you smile slightly, “Thanks to me, of course, I think I taught you well…”

Your smile falters a bit, because you know he's not saying that out of the sheer notion of teasing you. No, of course not, he can't but give himself the credits, he made you after all. You can't deny the fact; he salvaged you from the cruelty of being in the streets years ago, and made you what you've become today. A promising diva with a magnificent ore.

“What should I ever be without you?” You humour him with a smile, as he's always taught you. Do not contradict a man, especially one with power.

“The pole-smoke you had been before I plucked you from the streets.” His smirk widens, and the sly gaze Jack is giving her doesn't settle well in her.

Jack stands up from his seat and saunters down to you. His thumb strokes your lower lip, the unctuous gentleness makes your stomach roil.

“Listen to me, my pretty slut,” He tugs a strand of hair out of your face behind your ear, the maliciousness in his voice is well-coated with perfected inveiglement. His thumb is back to your lower lip, “You will go to Vought, do your supposed rehearsals, and indulge every whim Soldier Boy wants from you… even if he wants to muffle his cuban cigars in your pretty tits” He yanks her jaws up to make you look at him in the eyes, ignoring your small whimper, “Because you and I are both aware that he isn't only after that pretty voice of yours. Don’t you dare fuck this up, understood?”

You swallow the large bile in the back of your throat. Jack smiles at the vehemence of your nod. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip slightly. “Think of the offers you'll be lavished with after you sing next to Soldier Boy. You'll be one hell of a star, my star. Your pictures will be all over the country, and fuck, who knows, maybe you'd have a chance in L.A. too.”

Your mind floods with snaps of what your future might be. It wanders away, on a red carpet, where your heeled feet would treat with a swagger. Surrounded by camera flashes and ardent fans, just wanting you to look in their direction. And maybe, just maybe, Jack wouldn't be up on your ass anymore.

You shake your head back into the present. “What’s the song gonna be any way?” You ask Jack.

“Who fucking cares?” The latter shrugs, glancing at his wristwatch, “How about you find out yourself? Legend said Vought would send a private car to get you today.”

“So soon?” Your shoulders slump a bit.

“Is that hesitation I'm hearing?” He glares.

“N-No,” You gulp, “I’m just… it's happening a little too fast, don't you think?” Her lips curl in a dither smile.

Jack's frown deepens, “Aren’t you eager to make history?” He snickers, “Of course, a lowly whore like you isn't accustomed to the high steps of the ladder; you've always belonged at the bottom of it. What was I thinking.”

Tears start to burn in your eyes. You wonder why he's always so cruel to you? You always did what he wanted to please him. Before you started to perform at private parties and festivities, Jack used to drag you from an awful club to an even worse club, and exploited your voice and your other talents to fill up his pockets, under the excuse of enlarging and extending your audience; a good entertainer would perform for all of kind of people, he claimed. Promising that you'd make it up the ladder before you even knew it if you kept plugging. But now, and when you're at the threshold of achieving what he's always drilling into you, he is nothing but disparaging.

“No.” Your voice surprises you as it comes out with a defying tone.

“What’d you say?” Jack raises a brow.

“I said no, I don't belong to the bottom of the ladder.”

You expected the backhand slap, but you didn't expect it to make your mouth bleed.

“You’re my slut, my whore, I made you. Don't you dare concur yourself with me.” He seethes.

You grimace at the taste of iron as you swallow your blood silently, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Jack seems to rouse from his fit as his head tilts to the side. “Oh, no no, what’d I do?” He pulls his silky, cerulean handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs it gently on the corner of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, and you give him a weak, sanguine smile. When he's done, he tells you, “Do cover it up with some makeup; we don't want Soldier Boy to see your pretty face worked up, do we?” He grins, but it's empty of any sliver of sympathy. “Now, shake a leg, would you? Legend said Soldier Boy wanted to see you by noon. We don't want to give them the impression that we're a bunch of slackers, do we?”

You nod meekly.

Ben groans in pleasure, his body shivering in a long lost voraciousness. He wonders if the curl of your lips when you smiled at him and the enchanting glance of your eyes have something to do with that as his load washes abundantly on his hand. He's so engrossed in his high that he doesn't detect the knocks on his door.

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Legend grouses, his head whipping away the moment he steps into Soldier Boy's bedroom.

The latter only smirks, deft hands tugging his softening cock back in his pants. “What’s the matter? Can't look at what you don't possess?” He drawls smugly, his voice saturated with a satisfied rasp from his recent ecstasy.

“I fucking knocked! Good thing I'm not an enemy.” Legend rolls his eyes behind his shades, “Who woulda thought Soldier Boy could be shanked when he whacked off.” Legend sneers, savouring in having this sleazy clapback at the supe.

Soldier Boy's smik widens, zipping his gear pants, “You’re just saying that because my dick is twice as yours.”

Legend appears to be quite unfazed, “Well, yeah, but I never had a woman who refused an ass-fuck because of it.” He sighs, “Anyway, Ms. (L/N), is here.”

“Fucking finally…” Ben perks up, a huge smile on his face. But the Legend's slight frown makes his eyes roll. “What is it?” It's not like he wants the latter’s approval, but Legend has proven his viewpoints can be useful when it comes to Soldier Boy's career.

“Look, I know the gal has the voice and the looks.” Legend says, “But don't you think she's way… below you?” Ben raises a brow as Legend continues, “There are many better options, just saying…” 

Ben clicks his tongue, his temper is starting to fume, “She’s a fucking blast. She has the fucking talent. Isn't it your job to look out for talents?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s her or nothin’.” Soldier Boy asserts, and when he reads hesitance on Legend's face, he adds, “You can still have Noir do it if you want to.” He shrugs, "But here you are, you handed it to me, because you know that I get how the job's done, and nobody can pull it off like me.”

“Fine!” Legend acquiesces, it's not like he has much of a choice. “I hope you're fucking right about her.” And you're not only thinking with your dick.

“Atta boy!” Soldier Boy pats his shoulder, “Now we don't want to keep the next diva waiting, do we?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest despite how hard you're trying to maintain your cocksure exterior.

Don't you fuck this up.

Jack's words trill in your head again and again. You close your eyes and huffs an elongated breath through your nostrils. He didn't come with you, but his agonising words never leave you, and the skeptical looks shot in your direction from Vought employees passing by don't make it any better.

What am I doing here?

You question yourself again.

To make history.

Jack's words ring again in your ears.

Although you're too immersed in your thoughts, you notice the blur of green and eagle of a man sauntering down in your way with a couple of men at the either of his side.

Your mask involuntarily slips on your face as your lips concoct a conceited grin that mirrors the cocky smirk on Soldier Boy's face. You stand up to say hello.

“We meet again, honey bun.”

“Pleasure to meet you again, sir.”

Your mustered aplomb starts to waver at the mere sight of him in that green suit; it makes you hold your breath. Soldier Boy himself is standing in front of you in his green glory with his gloved hand extended to you. He looks so different from the man you met yesterday. Maybe because of his supe suit. However, you're glad he isn't wearing the helmet, his revealed face brought some familiarity to the man you met before.

He leans in to press a kiss on your knuckles as you take his offered hand to shake.

“The pleasure is all mine, (Y/N).”

You resist the heat travelling up to your ears. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Ben.” He says in a somewhat ordering tone and you nod.

Soldier Boy introduces you to Legend and you shake the latter's hand too. The three of you make it to a nearby room to discuss business.

“I’d like to thank Soldier — Ben for giving me such an opportunity to perform by his side. I'm honoured, sir.” You start. “I’m gonna make sure it's worth your while.”

“You’ll sure do, dollface, you'll sure do.” He pours you and himself a glass of liquor, letting Legend pour his own glass which makes you raise a brow. It's still midday. You politely turn down the glass.

You and I are both aware that he isn't only after that pretty voice of yours. 

Jack's words ring in your ear. You can clearly picture his smirking face staring at you.

“I was at the wedding last night, y'know,” Legend lights up a cigar as he drawls, “And let me tell ya that recognising a talent when I see or hear it is what pays my bills.” He takes a drag and puffs it out of his nostrils.

You thank him before he asks you about your career, making it feel like it's a job interview or something of the sort. You tell him the story you tell everybody. That you've always had a knack for singing ever since you were a child. And you used to sing at school, then you continued your passion and sang in bars and clubs until Jack beheld one of your performances and took you under his wing ever since. Which it's true, sort of.

“Jack is a good teach, he taught me everything I know to entertain my audience.” Your eyes flit momentarily at Soldier Boy whose eyes never leave you, then you grin back at Legend, “Making him a lot much like you sir. He flushes out the talent when he sees it.”

Legend grins back, taking another waft of his cigar, “Has he ever had you perform for another media before?”

You shake your head, “No, sir, my audience is still limited.”

“Ah, perfect, what could be better than a talented new face,” Legend says, “Well, I think we're all in for a treat, sweetheart. Vought would be happy to introduce you to the public. A pretty new face with a beautiful voice, singing for the first time and next to Soldier Boy. I think that would give you a great privilege if you tipped your cards right…”

“And it can be more than a one-time thing…” Soldier Boy adds, a satisfied grin on his face, but you didn't miss the way Legend's lips twitch.

“Are you trying to employ me, sir?” You raise an eyebrow.

“We’re offering you a chance of a lifetime.” Legend takes another drag, which seems rather an elongated sigh than a normal puff, “Our entertainment business is always happy to make and nurture gifted new faces.”

You stay silent for a moment. This is big. Unbelievably big. You're literally being offered a job at Vought. It's something you wouldn't even dare dreaming about. Jack didn't tell you anything about this.

Don't you fuck it up. 

Jack's voice reverberates in the back of your head again.

“But I'm not a supe, sir, how come I'd be useful for the company?” You ask. “And what about Jack?”

You could've sworn you saw the slightest irritation in Soldier Boy's eyes.

“Do you see me with one, sweetheart?” Legend lets out an amused snore, “Yet, here I am.” He splays his arms open in showboat manner. “As for Jack, he'll still be your manager under our terms, of course, as agreed accordingly.”

Your eyebrows furrow. As agreed accordingly? Of course, you scoff internally. He's already sold you out to Vought the moment he sniffed the smell of cash. Well, you can't argue with that really; you owe the man your life. You're his, like her always tells you.

Despite everything being played out of your control, you still insist on having a say in this, or at least to seem so.

“Good,” You smile cordially, “Because I'd have humbly declined your offer hadn't Jack been kept in the picture.”

“Ever did any of blues shit before, dollface?”

You can detect the drastic change in Soldier Boy's tone.

“No, not as of yet.”

“Well, good thing you have someone's been long enough in the trade to teach you some of the ol’ tricks, darlin'.” His teeth bare in a shark like smile that doesn't set well in you.

Your heart paces up as adrenaline rushes through your veins, choosing to accept the challenge, “I’m down for it, Ben.”

🦅 Previous Chapter: Tenderly.

🦅 Next Chapter: Mirrors.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 The Boys Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @donniedarkolover, @pepsicolacoochie...

[thinemoonshine]

୨♡୧ "𝔀𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝔂𝐨𝐮 𝓶𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝓶𝐞?" ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x ot7 content(s): enha are either supportive or not at all, (y/n) accepting the proposals—earning objections, a tinge of jealousy(?), dramatic jake, playful jay, sunghoon is NOT playing type: oneshot(s) word count: 2.3k

this work is based of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚synopsis: (y/n) sees a fan’s marriage proposal and she accepts just for the fun of it but her willingness evokes mixed reactions from her dramatic teammates ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

“sunghoon’s gonna be a bit late because of his schedule so it’s just me and (y/n) for now,” heeseung explains briefly after starting the live with the aforementioned girl.

the two make small random conversations in the meantime and even end up making ramen cups—a permitted late night snack since they have the next day off.

“‘heeseung, you’re so handsome and cute,’” (y/n) reads a comment and turns to him with a smirk when she sees him already wearing a smug grin. she turns back to the camera. “his ego is getting bigger by the day because of you guys.”

heeseung scoffs a retort. “oh, you’re just jealous. engene is just showing love.”

“i never told them to stop,” the other defends, hands raised to her chest. she then stares at the screen again to read comment after comment, some mentally and some verbally when one catches her eye. “‘(y/n), will you marry me?’”

now it’s her turn to wear a smug grin as she gives a knowing look to the lens. with a playful tilt of her head, her rosy lips part in an equally kittenish manner. “sure.”

“ohh~” heeseung sounds while turning to her, a grin forming before he chuckles. “you’re getting married now, huh? you haven’t even told the other members. they’re gonna be upset.”

(y/n) snickers, playing along his script. “i can just get married in secret.”

“oh?” hee sounds and a smirk forms. “i don’t think so. you can’t hide something this big from us.”

“i can, though.”

her stubbornness only ignites his urge to win and he scoffs.

“then, i object.”

“huh?? you can’t object my wedding!” (y/n) argues at his sudden declaration and he only retains his sneaky mien—knowing full well that his opinion and thoughts matter a lot to her since he’s the oldest, even when she doesn’t realise it.

heeseung shrugs languidly and bottom lip sticks out mockingly. “well, if you’re going to do some secret wedding without us then i think it’s going to be a problem. we practically raised you.”

“…tch.”

her little sassy noise makes him stifle a chuckle and he pats her head as if trying to tame an angry kitten.

“you’re not leaving us just yet, (y/n).”

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

(y/n) skips across the stage to go to jongseong, waving ecstatically at the fans who are watching occasionally. jay smiles seeing her hop to his side as he sings his line flawlessly.

when the two aren’t singing, they’re interacting with fans—waving, posing, and even jabbing at one another to show their harmonious relationship with one another.

(y/n) however, spots a very noticeable signboard designed with white frills and even a pair of mini bells stuck on the centre upper page of it. below them, the question, ‘WILL YOU MARRY ME, (Y/N)?’ is bolded and hard to miss.

she laughs at the sight, making the fans scream and cheer as she points at the proposing fan before giving a thumbs up. the fan practically vibrated on their spot at being acknowledged.

“a proposal?” jay then asks after seeing her gestures and (y/n) grins cheekily.

“yeah. look at the sign, they designed it so well,” she admires. both of their mics down to their sides so their conversation remains private.

jay stares at her momentarily, watching as she interacts with more fans before turning to the one who proposed—his arms crossing one another to make an ‘X.’

(y/n) catches and nudges him by the arm. “hey! don’t object my marriage!”

the man chuckles, laughing it off. “no, i’m going to keep going to~ they’ll have to talk with us first if they want to get married with you~”

“this isn’t a serious thing,” she scoffs with amusement at hearing his squeaky, nosy tone he uses at times and shakes her head. “but you’re still going to be the mc for my wedding though, right?”

jongseong stares at her once more, eyes shifting between hers before a grin of mischief forms. “nope.”

this earns him a playful kick to which he runs away to—not without looking back at her ‘fiancée’ and swiping his hand side to side near his throat to gesture a ‘cancel the wedding’ before pointing to a chasing (y/n) to emphasize her aggressive nature.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

(y/n) and jake are having a duo live with him doing most of the talking and the former reacting. it’s nighttime, she’s tired but she can’t just forego the scheduled session.

“yeah, so (y/n)’s room is actually a bit further away from us in the hotel but she’s always lurking around ours and stealing our food,” jake reports with a grin that widens to show his beautiful set of teeth when he sees her shooting him a glare through the screen.

a comfortable silence engulfs them once more as they read the comments flooding the screen.

“‘(y/n), will you marry me?’” jake thoughtlessly reads as it’s an english question, not expecting anything since the subject is too sleepy to even utter a single word.

so when she replies a short, casual, “sure,” his head whips towards her instantly with eyes wide and lips parted. she reciprocates the stare although, not as intense and dramatic as his.

“what?” she asks, brows knit at his prolonged eye contact.

“i didn’t think you’d accept. are you gonna leave me now?” his question falls from his lips sadly, brows angled downwards at the ends as his eyes stare pitiably at her.

she blinks. once. twice.

“huh?” she sounds, missing portions of his questions due to her drowsiness and jake dramatically turns to the screen like he’s in an episode of ‘the office.’

“guys, (y/n) doesn’t wanna be friends with me anymore. she’s actually leaving me,” he says with an exaggerated sniffle and adding more theatrics by wiping his dry eyes with his index finger.

the girl behind can only furrow while shaking her head at the camera and mouthing, “i don’t know what the man’s talking about.”

jake lets out a pained ‘ack!’ as he clutches his shirt covering his chest. “oh, the agony. the agony!!”

“like he hasn’t accepted marriage proposals before right, engene?” (y/n) scoffs and side-eyes the other blatantly. “he even brought a whole ring.”

jake brings his hands up in defense. “but that’s different!”

“so you can do it but i can’t?” she arches a brow and both of them share a staring contest before he suddenly turns to the camera again.

“guys, she’s actually leaving us. my bestfriend doesn’t like me anymore, she wants to leave us.”

“quit changing the narrative!”

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

“‘(y/n), will you marry m—’ no,” sunghoon firmly objects even before reading the whole comment. “she’s young.”

(y/n)’s brows knit and she stifles a laugh. “you make it sound like you’re that much older. we’re around the same age.”

“no,” he rejects sternly again and faces the camera while she watches their live from a tablet. “guys, (y/n)’s still young.”

and as if intentionally teasing him, the fans quickly flood the comment section with facts.

‘but she can already marry tho.’

‘she’s an adult.’

‘she can still have a fiancée.’

‘they say marrying young is better.’

the girl’s already grinning as she reads through them, cognizant of the protective nature of sunghoon, the brother she never had.

and her theory’s proven right when sunghoon subtly yet visibly clicks his tongue to show his displeasure like when ni-ki mispronounced ‘flower princes’ that one time to something…entirely different.

“you’re finding this funny?” sunghoon asks with a disapproving tone when he turns to a giggling (y/n)—which only makes her giggles evolve to laughter.

“whaaat? it’s not like i can’t get married. they’re not wrong at all, y’know?” she adds fuel to his flame and he sighs exasperatedly.

he doesn’t push the matter further after that. in fact, he’s mostly silent throughout the live with face to the ceiling and hands joint in front of his face like a prayer everytime someone comments the word ‘(y/n)’ and ‘marriage’ in the same sentence.

“wah~ it’s like the whole world wants to marry (y/n) suddenly, huh?” he sarcastically says with a smile that belies his internal discontent but his tone surely sends the message.

(y/n) only grins at the camera but quickly drops it when sunghoon whips his head to her with a thick brow arched.

“why are you smiling?”

“oh, come on! first marriage and now smiling’s a problem too??”

⋆˙𐙚 Y.JUNGWON 𐙚˙⋆

“someone’s asking to marry you,” jungwon tells after reading the proposal from a fan.

(y/n) looks up from playing with her hoodie’s trim, a bright grin stretching. “really? you want to marry me?”

jungwon stares at the comment section, watching it flood with people’s abrupt proposals to her suddenly. “wah, there’s a lot.”

“hmm~ let me think about it,” she hums with a finger on her chin. “what do you think, leader-nim?”

“me?” he asks back with brows raised and eyes round. her nod urges him to continue. “um… maybe? i don’t know. but then, how about the other fans that you don’t marry?”

she gasps hysterically, hand flying to her mouth. “you’re right! i love allll engenes~!!”

making finger hearts, she then blows a flying kiss to the screen which calls upon the fawning fans and jungwon chuckles at the effect.

“we love all engenes~” jungwon sings too, joining her as he makes a half heart on his left cheek which automatically makes (y/n) make a half heart on her right. they hold their faces side by side to complete the shape as they giggle.

“i did good, didn’t i?” won then asks quietly while still posing for the camera. (y/n) hums questioningly. “if i let you accept a proposal like that, hoon hyung would’ve given me an earful.”

the two snicker at this which lead to fans making edits with the clip—some trying to crack the puzzle on what they were talking about that’s so funny while some others are shipping them and making groundless romantic assumptions.

at the end of the day, jungwon ends up getting told off by sunghoon anyways.

⋆˙𐙚 K.SUNOO 𐙚˙⋆

sunoo stretches his microphone to (y/n) to let her sing in it while she does the same to him. both of them are smiley and giggly as they perform—radiant even in the dark stadium that’s only being lit up by their stage and the fans’ lightsticks.

as the two walk across the stage to interact with fans, he spots an interesting signboard which makes his clap his hand like a seal. eyes upturned to crescents, he pats the girl’s shoulder before directing her focus to his object of amusement.

‘(y/n), will you marry me?’ is written on a manila card with a cutout of her face next to it and glowsticks stuck to the edge of the page.

the female idol brings her hands to her mouth, acting all surprised and nodding vigorously to which the fan shrieks ecstatically at.

“ya, i better be your best man. i practically brought you guys together,” sunoo says with lips slightly jutted as he eyes her up and down—already accusing her of not going to do so without her even saying anything.

(y/n) cackles at this as she bobs her head again, at sunoo this time. “of course, you are! you can even be the one to help me choose my makeup look.”

he squeals at this before they high-five one another. they then turn to the others—rushing over once they realise they got too immersed in their conversations. hand in hand, they dash with hair flying back like capes in the wind and laughter ringing in each other’s ears even when the in-ears muffle them a tad bit.

the realization of (y/n) one day marrying, of one day separating from him imbues a heaviness in his chest. will that mean there won’t be any more ‘make-up’ fun times? or duo skincare nights?

sunoo’s grip tightens at the thought but still, the smile on his face remains.

he’ll worry about that when they cross that bridge.

⋆˙𐙚 N.RIKI 𐙚˙⋆

ni-ki’s the first to see it—the colourfully decorated board among the crowd with ‘(y/n), will you marry me?’ brightly written on the surface. and his first instinct? make sure (y/n) doesn’t see it.

“ki!” (y/n) calls gleefully as she dashes to him. he smiles that boxy grin of his and a chuckle escapes at seeing her hair jump and wiggle.

riki’s hand pats her head before it gets pushed away by the girl.

“you’ll ruin my hair,” she grumbles and immediately starts smiling and singing to the fans as her line comes in.

slowly rotating in her spot, she makes sure to wave at the audience on every side and that’s when riki realizes she’s going to spot the board. for some reason, he doesn’t want her to.

(y/n) finishes her line and riki’s is next. she turns to him to watch but instead finds herself in a headlock and struggling to get free.

fans scream at their interaction as riki continues to keep her captive in his arm, ignoring her attempts as he happily sings—only letting her go when her back’s turned to the proposal.

“you’re in for it now! hairstylist unnie is going to scold you!” she threatens as she touches her hairdo, making sure it’s still intact. riki snickers, a rectangle grin worn as his brows raise and shoulders shrug.

he emits a prolonged shout, barely raising his voice when she starts chasing after her with her bobby pin in hand.

“ya!! get back here!!” she commands but can’t help letting out a laugh while riki easily slips away with the use of his long legs—eyes glancing at the board before a smirk appears.

‘not today, fan.’

his brief distraction allows her to catch up but his swiftness makes him able to spin just in time for her to crash against his chest.

holding her nose, she hisses before her eyes widen at the faint foundation marks on his shirt. gasping aloud, she clasps her mouth.

“i’m going to get scolded by stylist unnie!” she dreads to which riki snickers at.

as dramatic as it is, riki doesn’t want to hear what her answer to that proposal is. not now, not ever. not when it’s for that fan, anyways.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 this turned out longer than i expected :0 if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[melonnmiru]

haikyuu boys + acts of service !

feat. sakusa, tendou, bokuto, atsumu, ushijima

"'omi, i can do this on my own, you know."

"you say that while not trying to move away." kiyoomi noted, almost sounding smug in a way. your words, unfortunately held little effect, considering how you were perched on the toilet lid, cheek leaning on his palm. his other hand was sliding cleanser over your skin, suds forming on it. 

you sighed defeatedly, letting him continue his ministrations. he did your whole routine with diligence, watching you do your skincare every night probably imprinted your routine into his memory at this point. 

he loved spending moments like this with you. he could just enjoy the comfortable silence while doting on you, free excuse to run his fingertips over your skin and memorize every bit of it. they were calloused, and yet his touch was more comforting than anything else you've ever felt. 

after patting the last bits of your moisturizer into your skin, he stood up to his full height, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. he wiped his hands on a towel before sliding them over to either side of your face. he tilted your face up, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. pulling away, he grimaced slightly at the feeling of your moisturizer now somewhat on his lips. 

you giggled, pushing yourself from where you sat, wrapping your arms around your waist and pressing more moisturizer-covered kisses over his face. his scowl deepened, though he didn't make any effort to push you away, he'd endure it, he enjoyed your affection a bit more than how he disliked the feeling of your moisturizer, he notes to himself. 

"and she pulled out screenshots! god, i've never seen someone's face go so pale so quickly." 

satori let out a dramatic gasp, stilling the hand that was carefully painting your thumb. "no way." you nodded vigorously, giggling at his reaction. 

"yeah." you confirmed. it almost felt like a teenage sleepover, what you and satori were doing right now. the both of you sat with your legs crossed, facing each other as he painted your nails with experienced swipes. 

"not surprised though. he totes had it coming!" satori comments in a sing-song tone. he dipped the brush into the bottle, wiping it on the rim before bringing it to your index finger. you could tell he was focused, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as his eyes squinted. 

"y'know, you're doing a pretty good job.." you noted, admiring the clean coats on your nails. he giggled, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, careful to not bump into your freshly painted nails, then one to your lips.

he then leaned back and stared at you with a goofy grin, stretching his hand out to your face, wiggling his fingers. "now paint mine!" satori chimed. you sighed, shaking your head with a grin, though picking out a bottle of dark red nail polish nonetheless. 

"yeah, and then i went like wham! and the ball slammed into their side!" 

you nodded along, smiling at koutaro's enthusiasm. the constant shine in his eyes when he talked about volleyball was something you could never get tired of, his hands moving around to further express what he was talking about. 

as he rambled, his gaze trailed down to your shoes, then back to your face, then back to your shoes with comically wide eyes. you tilted your head at his actions, a confused smile resting on your face. 

"kou, what's wrong?"

"hold on, baby. just gotta—" 

he dropped to his knee, shifting around to tie your shoelaces. he fumbled for a while, untying and retying it a few times. you stood there, silently watching him tie your shoelaces with an amusing amount of focus. 

he stood up, nodding and flashing you a wide grin. "wow, what a gentleman." you mused, almost dreamily before a small chuckle left you. he laughed boisterously, "can't let the love of my life walk around with untied shoelaces. that's unsafe!" he slipped his hand into yours, continuing his ramble with a proud smile. 

you unlocked the door to your shared house with a sigh, wanting nothing more than to slip your shoes off and flop into your bed, maybe sleep for the next sixty-eight hours.

you barely had to step foot in there before atsumu greeted you, his arms wrapping around your frame as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. you buried your head into the crook of his neck and shoulders, your own shoulders visibly relaxing at his touch. 

"hi, 'tsum. is it alright if we have takeout tonight? work killed me." your eyes were already closed as you spoke, leaning all your weight onto him. "no need," he leaned back to admire your tired face, pressing a small kiss against your temple. "i already made us dinner." he declared proudly, a smirk resting on his face. 

"you cooked?" 

"mhm." he nodded confidently, you shot him an unconvinced look. "...and it's edible?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips curling into an amused smile. 

"hey!" 

you shrugged, "just thought osamu took all the cooking genes." 

"well, we just so happened to share! can't say the same about the looks department..."

"yeah, you were seriously unlucky there." 

atsumu gasped, shooting you a look of absolute betrayal. "your kind, generous, drop dead handsome boyfriend went out of his way to cook dinner, and this is how you repay him?!" 

your shoulders shook as you laughed, and gingerly took his hands in yours, leading him to the dining table. there sat an uncharacteristically pristine plate of rice balls, his chest puffed up in pride as your eyebrows raised in mild surprise. 

you hate to admit it's romantic. especially if you ignore the five containers shoved in the depths of your fridge, filled with his failed attempts, and his messages with his twin, begging for tips on how to cook without burning the kitchen down. 

"are you almost done?" 

you offered wakatoshi a noncommittal hum. "few more edits, and i'll be finished." the sound of clicking filled the room as you mindlessly typed away at your keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. 

he nodded, then turned around, and walked out of the room. you took your attention away from what you were writing for a few seconds to glance at the empty spot where your boyfriend had been sitting. a part of you had considered getting up to find him, but alas, this paper was due in an hour. 

a few minutes later, he returned. a glass of water in one hand, and a small bowl of sliced apples in the other. he placed them on your desk before moving behind you. his hands made their way to your shoulders, carefully massaging them as if pushing too hard would cause you to shatter.

it was amusing, how his large stature contrasted his gentle touch with you. you could almost forget that this was the same man ranked among the top three aces in japan, the same man with some of the most monstrous spikes. he'd trade his force for a moment of pure gentleness and care with you. 

you leaned into his touch like it was second nature, your head touching his torso. your eyes automatically fluttered shut as a content sigh left you. the dull ache in your shoulders from being hunched over your computer for hours seemed to completely wash away from his ministrations. 

"thanks, toshi." you mumbled, moving a hand from your keyboard to his hand, giving him a small squeeze. a noise of acknowledgement left him, it was deep, rumbling from his chest as he offered you a small, but genuine smile. wakatoshi knew he wasn't the best with his words, but he hoped these small actions spoke enough about his love for you.

an irl gave me these ideas, luv u and ur big brain greyps!!!

[i-cant-sing]

OH MY GOD, OIKAWA WOULD 💯 SLUT SHAME READER FOR WEARING A SKIRT OR SOMETHING SHORT.

Like he doesn’t care that it’s the uniform

He would!!! But like... he doesn't actually believe in it, especially if he's a platonic yandere. He's only saying it to "tease" you or bug you like most brothers do. He'd never compliment you if you ever looking nice, or if he did, it'd be a backhanded compliment. Something like- "that's a nice dress. Too bad you need to wear heels to compensate for your height! Haha, have fun!"

I can see the yandere fan girls actually dressing you up in one of the cute skirts and doing a proper "girly girl" look on you because you mentioned that you were gonna go out on a date (that Oikawa doesn't know about yet and you made the fan girls promise not to tell him because you wanted to see how things would go. In exchange for singing their praises to Oikawa of course, no good deed is free). And maybe they wanted to show you off to Oikawa, let him be impressed by how they take care of you.

They drag you to the gymnasium where he's practicing with the team.

"Tooru-chan!" They call it to him, while you're standing there, arms linked with theirs so that you can't run off.

Oikawa turns towards you, eyes widening ever so slightly at your appearance. You looked beautiful, absolutely adorable.

He walks closer, the fan girls are bubbling in excitement, you are shifting from one foot to another, nervous under his eyes that never leave yours.

"We dressed Y/n up!" One of the girls said cheerfully. "Do you like it?"

Did we a good job, Tooru? They all wondered silently.

Oikawa smiled, and the girls automatically matched his expression, only to turn to confusion as he suddenly began laughing, belly aching, thigh slapping laugh.

He was laughing at you.

"W-what the hell are you wearing!" He said between his laughs, gasping for air.

"I-" you were at a loss for words, immeadiately turning red at his reaction. Did you look bad?

He stopped laughing, slowing down to chuckles as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Heh, what in the world were you thinking? You looked like someone puked pink on you." He pointed to your skirt and snorted. "And why would you wear a skirt? What are you trying to show off? Your square buff calves? And heels? Wow, I did not know you had chubby ankles." Your eyes welled up with tears, threatening to spill. And the fan girls could sense your humiliation, so they tried to intervene.

The leader of the fan club spoke up. "Tooru, stop joking around. She looks beautiful and you-"

"Was I taking to you?" He cut her off swiftly, glaring at her.

Oikawa walked closer to you until he was right in front of you. He bended his knees a little so he could be face to face with you. His eyes bore into your teary ones and Oikawa didn't smile as his thumb came up to smear the gloss off your lips.

"Pink gloss? Really? You look like an idiot. Change. Now." That was all it took for your tears to start falling as you ran out of the gymnasium.

Oikawa only stared at the gymnasium door that you had just ran out of, as he spoke to fan girls, but to no one in particular.

"Never dress her up like that again. She looked like a slut." He didn't need to say "or else", his fans already knew of the deadly consequences. As he returned to his practice, the girls left the gymnasium, some went to console you, while others went to their room to silently ponder upon your outfit that Oikawa deemed "slutty".

Especially because all of them dressed up like that.

So was it okay for them to look "slutty"? Or did Oikawa not like their style too?

While they went over a existential crisis over their wardrobe, Oikawa was being scolded by Iwazumi for what he said to you. Oikawa didn't bother explaining himself, because he knew what he did was right.

You did not look slutty, but if you showed your skin like that, other guys will get the wrong idea. He knows "locker room talk" the guys have, what they reduce girls to. And he'd rather you he single and insecure by his side eh were he can protect you, than look available and be hurt and heartbroken a million times worse by some scum bag, all while you're away from him.

What Oikawa didn't see was you leaving the house dressed in your comfy clothes (the girls made you change into the sweats that Oikawa had gotten for you, still trying to win his favour) and meeting your date, who proceded to hang his jacket around you when the wind picked up.

The jacket had his name on it.

USHIMJIMA.

Wonder what would cause Oikawa to have an aneurysm first? The Shiratorizawa jacket that engulfs your body? The picture of you dating his arch nemesis? Or the way Ushijima who towers over you, bends down to kiss you?

My money is on "Ushijima is now a yandere for you and you're the first and last girl he'll ever date and Oikawa will have to pry you from his cold dead arms before he'll let you go."

[abiiors]

birthday wish - matty x reader

part 1 of matty's birthday weekend a/n: this is scheduled. by the time this goes up, i will (hopefully🤞🏼) be on a beach somewhere, day drunk 😌 cw: very vague and brief descriptions of a panic attack, alcohol and drinking, mayhem is still with matty here because that's how it should be. also...a smidge of angst, idiots friends to lovers wc: 3.1k

“matty you fucking dick!”

her screech echoes throughout the lower floor of his house and matty bursts out laughing. george stirs on the nearby sofa, huffs something unintelligible and goes back to sleep. 

it’s 9 in the morning the day after they’ve had a late night out, no one should be awake at such an ungodly hour… least of all him. but matty has a mission to accomplish, the fucking childish prank he’s been planning for weeks to see through. 

and this scream—her calling him a “fucking dick”—is the precise reaction he’s been hoping for. 

seconds later she stomps out of his room and matty damn near pisses himself at the sight of her—dripping in water like a wet, angry cat, her t-shirt clinging to her body in all the damp spots and hair as green as an oompa-loompa's. even like this she’s a vision.

“what the fuck did you do?!” she yells again, absolutely fuming. 

between peals of laughter, he somehow manages three words. “happy april fool’s.”

“oh don’t you fucking dare. watch your back healy, i swear to god…”

and then all the yelling wakes george up who takes one look at her and flinches back. he actually flinches back letting out a string of curses in the process until his butt hits the floor. 

matty doubles over, clutching his sides, and wolf-whistles at her just to piss her off a little more. 

“hair dye in a shampoo bottle, how clever,” she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her until the damp  t-shirt sticks to her boobs and the wind gets knocked out of matty’s chest. 

suddenly, nothing is funny—not the green-tinged puddle of water near her feet, not the way her nostrils flare in anger. 

matty’s breath hitches in his throat, and perhaps for the first time he looks at her properly. the damp t-shirt ends halfway down her thighs, bunched up on one side so he can almost see the little group of freckles on the apex of her thigh. the anger makes her eyebrows furrow, makes a small crease appear right between them and matty wishes so desperately he could smooth it with his thumb. his hands tremble at his sides and he tightens them into a fist. 

finally, after what feels like an eternity, george bursts out laughing. 

matty startles—he’d honestly forgotten george was even there, still waking up from sleep and now that he is fully awake, george bursts into a fit of obnoxious cackles. 

“what the fuck happened to you,” he teases to which she just lifts one finger and points it straight at matty. 

matty, despite everything, blushes to the roots of his hair. now that he’s started thinking all these thoughts about her he can’t fucking stop—can’t stop when she bunches the towel in her hands and throws it at him so quick that it makes the t-shirt ride up a bit more. can’t stop when she places her hands on her hips so that the contours of her chest stand out under the damp t-shirt.

he has half a thought to tackle george so he won’t be able to look at her anymore but matty suppresses the urge. barely. 

“i’ll get you back, healy,” she threatens and storms back to his room. 

sure matty was the one who offered to let her have a shower in his bathroom—one, so she could stay over with the rest of their friends for the night, and two, so he could execute the prank. but now he can’t stop imagining it—her under the shower (does she sing?) using his shampoo, his body wash. 

does she smell like him now? he’d die if he got close enough to find out. 

“alright, mate?” george jerks him out of his thoughts. matty turns around to see his friend stretching sleepily, but george’s eyes are still very much trained on matty. his lips are very much pressed into a thin line. 

“you both are insufferable, don’t get why you won’t just tell her,” he mumbles on the way to the kitchen pulling out a mug for himself. 

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” matty shrugs, perhaps a bit too quick and gets another mug out. he puts the kettle on boil, gets the coffee and sugar out.

the whole time george stays quiet but matty can feel his burning stare on the back of his head. 

only when the coffees are done and george takes the first sip does he speak. 

“sure you don’t,” he mutters in a dry tone and takes his phone out (definitely to text charli and gossip about matty’s love life. or the lack thereof.)

in his head he guesses the texts that are being exchanged between them.

he’s chickened out again. 

really? i fucking knew it, he’s never gonna get to it. 

right? she might as well date someone else. 

i should set her up with a friend…

and then shakes his head like that would get rid of the frankly ridiculous thoughts. his friends would never do that to him. they've already meddled and invested too much in his love life by now to give up so easily. besides, he’ll get to it. someday. eventually. 

he’ll get to it when his insides don’t feel like jelly around her. 

he’ll get to it when he feels a bit more brave.

matty’s birthday wish has stayed consistent for the last two years. he wishes he could make a move. he wishes she were single—well, one of those things is true now. he’s no longer pathetic enough to yearn for a girl who’s already with someone else. 

he’ll never admit it to anyone but he did feel a bit of joy when she broke up with her boyfriend earlier that year—okay maybe a lot of joy when he saw how quickly she moved on. 

“we’d been growing distant for some time anyway,” she’d confessed when he checked up on her after the break up. “it was inevitable.”

and now that matty’s birthday gets closer and closer, he thinks of all ways to amend that wish. 

please fucking please give me the courage to just kiss her. 

he doesn’t know who he’s making the wish to. god?? he highly doubts it. the universe?? he scarcely believes in all that new age spirituality crap. the fucking candle company and the cake maker then. 

oh great vanilla bean who sacrificed itself for my cake… give me the courage to finally kiss her. 

he's got like a week still… if he wished every single day starting today, maybe it will come true. cake and candles or not. he's a grown fucking man, he can make a wish before blowing on a fag.

sometime around 5 pm he wakes up to an empty apartment, lingering taste of the sweet vanilla cake that she’d baked for him last year still so fresh on his tongue. 

there’s something else too… there’s the Moment that he’s not quite sure counts as a Moment even though he remembers it vividly—her fingers brushing against his lips while she was wiping away a bit of the frosting, nails grazing against his lips. just a touch too long. all of it—the intense stare, the looking away right after, the refusal to look him in the eye for the rest of the night—all of it feels like a Moment. but the rational part of his brain steers him away from that thought. 

she had a boyfriend at the time. she wouldn’t pine after someone else. least of all him. 

a somewhat humiliating memory resurfaces too—his own lyrics coming to bite him back in the ass—the speaker blaring “she’s got a boyfriend anyway” over and over again while he tries not to punch the dj. 

matty stretches and gets out of bed.

the utter silence feels nice for a change—nicer when half the house is bathed in golden light and he can just stroll through the house in search of some weed and crisps and pop. maybe call his brother and demand that mario kart rematch that’s so so long overdue. 

maybe he should let mayhem out into the backyard first. 

mayhem…

matty freezes in his tracks and slowly turns around, almost like he’s in a horror movie. 

he has not heard the dog bark once! usually mayhem is up and running at him the moment he senses him within a ten feet radius. today however, there’s no patter of paws on the floor. 

matty runs to check the little outdoor area where mayhem usually sits. even before he opens the door though, matty knows what he will find—an empty dog bed, possibly an empty food bowl. 

he lets out a low whistle and twists the door open. there’s an uncharacteristic, loud clatter and a second later he stands at the threshold, doused in hot pink glitter, dog-less, in the middle of his house. 

i’ll get you back, healy!

matty giggles to himself and takes his phone out of his pocket, trying not to get the glitter everywhere. (although by now it’s pretty much settled into his dna, he’s sure of it) 

she picks up on the second ring, followed by a very fake clearing of her throat. 

“did you steal my dog, darling?” matty launches straight into it, trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“no!” and then there’s a faint little yip in the background that sounds suspiciously like the one he hears daily. 

“right…”

“right. that all?”

as gently as he can, matty dusts off the glitter in place and walks back inside in search of a mop or something. he needs to contain the carnage somehow, but on the phone she clears her throat again. 

“did anything else happen?” 

the little giggle in her voice is so obvious to him. matty imagines what she looks like on the other side—on her bed maybe, cuddled up with mayhem who secretly seems to prefer her so much more than matty. on her bed in just a t-shirt maybe… he reigns it in before the thoughts can progress any forward. 

“mayhem seems to have ran away.”

“oh?” then there’s a little silence, which instantly fills with the sound of paws on hard wood. “maybe he’ll come back,” she hedges, “maybe…once the dye in my hair goes away, who knows.”

“is that so?”

“yeah, just a hunch.”

the silence stretches on, none of them willing to hang up first. matty wonders if she’s sat there biting her lip, trying to stifle a laugh. matty wonders what it would be like if he were to bite her lip instead.

“still green?” he tries to tease, voice slightly breathy.

“still sparkly?” she quips back. and well…yes, he is. he’s sure he’s going to be for the rest of time.

“the day’s not over yet, sweetheart.”

sweetheart. where the fuck did that come from? matty runs a shaky hand through his hair and grimaces when it come away hot pink and sparkly. it’s all over his hair too… great.

“is that a threat, darling?” matty almost chokes at the word, his face heats up. fuckin’ hell… if this is what he’s like after one word…

“we’ll see about that tonight.” 

and then like a coward he hangs up before she can shake his composure any further. he closes his eyes and focuses on the birthday wish one more time—it might as well be today, he’s faux-celebrating his birthday later with a few people who can’t be there on the actual day. he just needs to get his shit together and…not fuck up.

he fucks up almost instantly. 

when he walks into the dimly lit pub, he can spot the green-head right from the door. she’s in a flowery blouse and jeans and pulling the hair off so well that he wonders if he should have done this months ago. but matty shakes off his jitters and walks up to his friends. 

several of them are already pretty tipsy, singing and dancing along to the tunes. he is fashionably late after all. they greet him, slapping him on the shoulder as he passes by, drunkenly yelling “happy birthday” even though it’s a week away. graciously, he thanks them all, laughing and joking with his friends before making his way to her. 

turns out the list of tipsy people also includes her.

she beams when she sees him, hurrying to put her cocktail away so she can throw her arms around him. a second later her perfume invades all his senses. matty closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of it. 

“i was waiting for you,” she declares, a few words coming out slurred. “i’ve decided i like the green.”

“yeah? it looks beautiful on you.”

quickly she wrinkles her nose, stepping away from him. “you’re making fun of me!”

“‘m not!” he vehemently defends himself but in the end it’s all in good fun. fondly, she rolls her eyes and grabs his hand, pulling him to the bar. 

“i asked them to set aside this one bottle of wine for you. feel like you’d like it.”

a strange warmth spreads through him—it’s not the most special thing someone’s done for him, it’s just a bottle of wine. but then again nothing is just something when it comes to her. 

she thought about him. she’d been thinking about him. however briefly. 

matty almost leans across and kisses her then but thinks better of it. a crowded pub is no place to do it. 

turns out his first mistake of the night is drinking the wine. well… drinking too much and too fast anyway. 

what starts off as slow sips and savouring the red quickly turns into glasses of wine in a corner while they joke around and giggle uncontrollably. she’s flushed, twinkly-eyed and a bit more than tipsy now. 

matty, on the other hand, might very well be drunk. 

he feels the effects of it—the feeling of his blood being replaced by wine, the buzz in his head, the lack of filter in his words. oh, his head is going to kill him tomorrow.

he doesn’t mind though, anything to be sat here across from her, giggling over an overpriced (but delicious) bottle of wine. matty leans forward, chin on the palm of his hand and watches her laugh at his silly joke. 

“you’re gorgeous, did i tell you that?” for a moment he doesn’t recognise the voice. it’s slurred and deeper than usual and that’s not something he’d ever admit to her so casually. but then she giggles and ruffles his hair, laughing harder when her fingers come back, coated in a bit of glitter. 

“you’re so drunk. but i appreciate it, thank you.”

“no no, i’m not! i mean i am but— i mean it i—” he’s wide-eyed and failing to explain just how much he means it. matty just wants her to understand. this is not some frivolous confession of a wine-addled brain, this is serious. he is serious. 

desperation overrides any sane instinct in his brain. which is his second mistake of the night. 

the words come out faster than he can process them, faster than he can filter them and make them digestible. 

“you– you don’t know how long i’ve waited to say this. every time i get enough courage there’s either a boyfriend or something else. there’s always— fuck, forget all that. that doesn’t matter—”

“matty—”

“no, no listen to me, listen to what i’m trying to tell you.” 

the more he speaks (rambles) the more the smile slips from her face, replaced by something he can’t quite place. she’s not… disgusted by him, is she? he hopes not. that really would be the final nail in the coffin. 

“i’ve been trying—” he chokes, deeply swallowing more wine, “—been trying to tell you, i love you! i love you, i love you, i love you. i have for so long!”

and that’s when she pulls back entirely, leaning back into her chair as if she can’t put enough distance between them. her face shutters into an unreadable mask and matty feels panic bubbling up deep inside his stomach. 

shit shit shit. 

what has he done. 

oh god, he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. this wasn’t how it was meant to go. this wasn’t how any of it wasn’t meant to go. it was meant to be followed by a kiss and maybe more. it was meant to be followed by an “i love you too”. 

not… indifference. 

or worse… disgust. 

which is when he makes his third (and perhaps the worst) mistake of the night. 

matty laughs. it’s hysterical and sharp and verging on cruel. he laughs until he can feel the tears in his eyes and he can only hope they don’t spill down his cheeks. and then he says the words he can never take back. 

“oh god, look at your face. i was joking!”

“what…”

“it’s still the first of april, did you forget?”

each word is like a nail being hammered into his heart. but matty hopes it would be enough. in two seconds she’d roll her eyes and laugh at herself for falling for it. in a minute they will go back to drinking and joking. matty can pretend. he’s become quite good at it. 

instead, she gets up so fast that her chair almost clatters to the ground. 

in the dim lightning of the pub, matty can’t see the tears gathered in her eyes. although that might be because his eyes are still blurry from his own tears. 

“love—”

“you’re a cunt, matty.” she says the words with an eerie calmness, mechanically gathers her bag and phone and walks away. only then does he register the extent of what’s happening. 

the wine bottle falls to the floor and shatters when he drunkenly bumps into the table. red spills everywhere, soaking his shoes, the leg of his jeans. he hurries after her, tripping and falling as the full force of the alcohol hits him once again, calling out her name again and again. the music drowns it out. 

she’s out the door before matty’s even halfway across the pub. 

fuck… how did it go so wrong so quick. 

how did he mess it up so bad… 

he almost retches right there on the floor, grabbing a passer-by to steady himself. he needs to do something, he needs to make this right. he needs to…

he doesn't know what. his heart pounds in his chest and his throat feels so dry and tight he can barely speak, barely even breathe. matty sinks to his knees right there in the middle of the pub, gasping for breath. 

he doesn’t know what happens next, doesn’t remember much after that. all he remembers is the feeling of doom and the loud, odd rhythm of his heart. 

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[viciousvortexx]

Some of my Vergil headcanons

just random headcanons about anything <3

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★ Vergil likes to leave gifts on places he knows you could easily find, like over the table, over your bed, in front of your door. He'll always do it before he's gone for a mission, and when he's back, will casually ask while you're talking to each other, “did you like the roses?”

★ Physical touch to him is something very intimate, no hugs or something like this unless you're close to him, he watches over his personal space.

★ Still talking about physical touch, there's nothing more intimate than holding someone's hand, this means how comfortable and close you're and how much you trust this person to let your guard down to relax and hold hands. Touching hands it's like a bridge to connect yourself with someone else. Also, this means he would love to caress the back of your hand, trace the patterns of your palm, kiss it...

★ Eye contact is also very important to him, it's noticeable how hard is for Vergil to keep eye contact on casual situations, even though he's trying his best. So when those crystal clear blue eyes are locked on yours, he won't take them away unless someone else appears, eye contact is powerful and can talk more than words.

★ He loves to do cleaning, taking off his coat to wear an apron instead.

★ When hugging, he'll place one arm around your waist while his free hand gently press your head to his chest, peting your hair.

★ Secretly sings his favorite songs when no one is around.

★ Organize his books by alphabetical order.

★ Definitely would use those silk pajamas sets with buttons.

★ About Vergil's phone: the brightness will always be too high or too low, the speakers are probably low cause he was watching cute and funny cat compilations on the van and he didn't want to bother, definitely there's a lot of accidental selfies he took by opening the camera and the ringtone is LOUD, really loud (he doesn't know how to change it properly and is ashamed to ask Dante or Nero since they'll probably make fun of him).

Plus: use a lot the thumbs up emoji after someone complained he only views the messages and doesn't say anything, so he started to use the thumbs up as a reaction.

★ He likes to make his tea the old way, doesn't like tea bags.

★ Call anything technological a "device" since those things are new to him and he's learning the names and how they work. “Nero, come here, my device is broken again.”

★ The only time you would see Vergil with his hair down is when it's wet or if he's too tired to groom it (like, can't even keep his eyes open), if not, he'll always groom his hair to make it look the way it is, he's a man of routine (and also it makes him look different from his twin, so that's why he isn't going on public with his hair down).

★ He loves classical music, but that doesn't mean he isn't open to discover new genres and tunes.

★ Vergil used to make dog ears on the pages of his books when he was a kid to continue reading it later, but he noticed it crumples the paper so stopped doing it.

★ He is extremely warm because of his demon nature, just like an walking oven baking cookies, that's why cats are always attracted by him, there's often cat fur on his coat, probably Vergil faced a kitten on the streets and it started to butt the head on his legs to feel his warmth.

★ Always have a pleasant smell, unless when he's back from a mission, that's why he takes so long in the bath.

★ Loves citrus fruits.

★ Vergil takes a lot of pictures of the sky and nature, he treasures them and shows to the ones he treasures the same way.

★ Won't tell anybody if he got hurt during a mission, waiting for it to heal by itself (this also happens if he get sick).

★ Heard Dante listening to dad rock once, after that he tried to listen to a couple of songs too and started to like it.

★ Knows a bit of Latin from old books he read once.

★ Vergil is passionate and enthusiastic about the things he likes, he can spend hours talking about it with that glimmer he has on his eyes when happy.

★ The same way he likes someone to listen about his interests, also likes to be the one who listens to it from others, he's a very good listener.

★ One of his hobbies is writing his own poems on yellowed rag paper with a feather pen (things he like to buy with his money), he keeps them hide inside a little box.

[bbina]

"man you look rough" you giggle, watching wonbin yawn for what seems like the nth time today. from what you’ve witnessed, shotaro quite literally dragged wonbin out of bed, not even giving him the time of day to fix himself. he literally looked as if he had just woken up considering his hair was all disheveled and he was still in pajamas

"well shotaro here said it was an emergency" wonbin rants loudly that shotaro can hear it, glaring at the boy who was busy checking out a bag of tangerines. shotaro hears his complaint and laughs

"get mad at sohee! he said it was an emergency" shotaro laughs, throwing his thumb back at the boy behind him picking a fight with seunghan over which orange juice to buy

"this shit is gas i'm telling you!"

"tropicana is shit!"

wonbin merely rolls his eyes and continues on with dragging the pushcart to where shotaro was. you feel a little relieved that it was only you, wonbin, shotaro, seunghan, sohee and anton who were out doing groceries. a little breather from the couple you've spent the last two days with. at least for now you can keep your guard down

you guys didn't bother to wake eunseok up since he was gonna cook either way so you just let him sleep like a rock back at the villa.

"y/n" you hear wonbin call out, breaking your train of thought. you look up at him to see him looking at you with concern. you shake your head, telling him it was nothing. he hums as he diverts his attention back to which pancake mix to buy

"so, who were you texting all night, wonbin? was it y/n?" shotaro teases, causing you to tense up. wonbin almost drops the box of pancake mix with shotaro's sudden question

shotaro laughs at your reactions. he noticed some tension going on with you two all morning. from the time he woke wonbin up, wonbin was about to cuss him out til he spots you behind shotaro looking all excited, he easily drops it and lets himself get dragged into the car. then when it came to the car seating arrangements in anton's old jeep, shotaro expected wonbin to be at his usual spot whenever he was driving, that being which was the passenger seat but shockingly enough, wonbin insisted that he'd rather sit at the backseat next to you. earning looks of bewilderment from the rest of the boys

"none of your business" wonbin retorts, flipping him off as shotaro laughs again, winking at your direction. you feel yourself blush a little and brush him off but you neither confirm nor deny it, and neither does wonbin.

shotaro drops the subject after that, now seemingly invested between the three youngsters who started fighting in the middle of the grocery store. yelling at them that it was time to pay at the cash register

while shotaro, anton, sohee and seunghan were at the cash register paying, you and wonbin waited outside in the parking chatting amongst yourselves

"so how are you feeling after last night? still upset?" wonbin asks, his hands in his pockets as you two wait for the rest of the guys.

you shrug, "not that much anymore after experiencing my first late night talk with my fake boyfriend" you say, wiggling your eyebrows, giving him a look. wonbin laughs at your comment, nudging your shoulder

"i'm serious! i think i'm slowly accepting everything. just 2 days left til this shit is all over and i'll never see them again.. hopefully" you look up at the sky, trying to not to think about the shit that happened for the past few days. you hear wonbin hum in agreement.

"yep. two days left and i don't have to keep this act up with you"

"what? already tired of me?" you jest, playfully pushing his shoulder. wonbin chuckles and pushes you back. the situation felt eerily similar to last night. you and wonbin ended up by the waves, engaged in deep conversation. wonbin had his guitar with him, so while you were venting, he strummed random chords, attentively listening and occasionally sharing his thoughts. eventually, he began singing along to his playing, encouraged by your persistent requests for him to sing (which he didn't mind) italics - flashback

"pleaseeeee" you plead, hands clasped together as you beg wonbin for the nth time to sing

wonbin rolls his eyes and continues to strum along. you pout as you realize he was ignoring you. instead, you start singing along to whatever he was strumming to which was sparks by coldplay

"can you change the song i don't like the lyrics" you murmured, turning away, thinking about sungchan based from the lyrics

"no" wonbin pokes his tongue out, ignoring your request. "i'm gonna make sure you'll like the song by the time i finish playing it"

you huff at his cockiness. you'll just have to block out the song either way.

"but i'll promise you this.. i'll always look after you.." wonbin sings lowly, intently looking at the chords as he strums. "yeah, that's what i'll do.."

you snap your head towards him, finally hearing his voice. something in you churns. you know damn well he was just singing to the lyrics of the song but you're not too sure why it sounded a bit different when wonbin sings it. you shake your head, getting rid of that weird fuzzy feeling you were feeling

thankfully wonbin switches up the song, not liking how it was too mellow for his liking. now he was just singing random songs he can think of.

"did you ever do something like this with sungchan?" wonbin suddenly asks, dropping the guitar on his lap. he was probably tired from playing

"like what?"

"shit like this like sneaking out to talk or something i don't know"

you shake your head no, "nah. but if we did, it's with eunseok" you say, recalling every shared memory you have with sungchan

wonbin hums, "i see"

"why do you ask?"

"there's a first for everything then" he smiles cheekily, grabbing a handful of sand before throwing it at you. you let out a squeak as you stood up from the sand and ran away from him

wonbin laughs and follows suit, chasing after you

you could say, that was one memorable night

you two were play fighting at this point, barely noticing the presence of the three guys behind the two of you, holding grocery bags

anton coughs to get your attention. you and wonbin freeze, slowly turning around to look at the grinning boys behind you. barely even noticing that wonbin was holding your hand.

"are we interrupting something?" anton gestures toward your hands. you and wonbin both glance down simultaneously to see what he's referring to—your intertwined hands. quickly, you let go, dismissing the warmth his hand provided. wonbin hastily wipes his palms with the material of his sweatpants before casually placing his hands behind his head.

"well are you guys just gonna stand there? help us!" seunghan complains, holding three grocery bags in front of wonbin's face. to which wonbin scrambles to get, wanting to get away from this awkward situation

you can only offer a peace sign before you bolt towards the car, not wanting to help the rest of the guys

"song y/n get back here!"

──

you all were now back at the villa. eunseok was a little upset that no one even bothered to wake him up to go grocery shopping but quickly dismissed it when you said you bought ingredients for his beloved vongole pasta (anton intervening by yelling he paid for it). eunseok immediately goes to cooking with what you guys bought. it was getting late anyway for breakfast

to everyone's surprise, wonbin decided to help with cooking too. he was grumbling about how he didn't want to wash dishes anymore might as well just cook. without hesitation, you also joined in the cooking, not wanting to be stuck with sungchan and his girlfriend who were in the living room watching tv

"get out of here there's no space anymore" eunseok complains, shooing you away from his "station" as he liked to call it. you simply ignore him and asked wonbin if he needed any help

"you can cut these green onions" wonbin suggests, passing you a cutting board and a knife to cut the green onions with. accepting the tools, you begin the task, knowing that once you start cutting, it's gonna be a crying mess, literally.

you let out a hiss when you start chopping the onion as they start to do their magic by making your eyes water. wonbin hears your reaction and drops whatever he was doing with the meat he just took out of the packaging and comes to your aid

"cut it thinly so it wouldn't make you tear up as much" he advices, swiftly taking over that you didn't even need to do a damn thing.

"yes chef!" you jest, raising your hands up in a mock salute. wonbin chuckles and motions you to move aside so he can transfer the freshly cut onions onto a pan.

you two were just in your own world, oblivious to sungchan's lingering stares from the living room.

your little moment was cut short when eunseok starts yelling about how he spilled a lot of salt on the meat and needed tongs asap.

"the tongs y/n! the tongs!" he yells frantically, looking at every cupboard for the tongs. you simply shrug and let him suffer.

"i thought you wanted me out of here"

"y/n!"

──

the three of you cooked a delicious set of dishes that consisted of kimchi fried rice, fried eggs, chicken and pasta (per eunseok's request)

now you all were at the dining hall of anton's villa, ready to feast on this delicious meal that you, eunseok and wonbin worked hard on cooking (mainly eunseok and wonbin since all you did was stand there and watched while waiting for wonbin to tell you to do something)

"thank you for the meal!" you all chorus before diving right in

"this kimchi fried rice is so good!" you exclaim, doing a little dance in your seat as you savored each bite. wonbin smirks to himself, knowing damn well he cooked that shit

"well you did help me cook so," his tone playful yet flirtatious as he openly flirted with you in front of everyone. the guys all stopped for a moment to process what just happened.

"no i helped you cook" eunseok intervenes, his eyebrow raised, ready to shit on you for not even doing anything besides asking if you can taste whatever they were cooking.

you ignore the banter being thrown around the table. wanting to have more of the kimchi fried rice wonbin cooked, you stood up to reach for the serving spoon, only to see something you didn't really need to see right now, which was sungchan feeding his girlfriend

wonbin doesn’t miss the frown on your face as you watch sungchan feed his girlfriend in front of you. he watches you quietly sit down and look for something else that wasn't his kimchi fried rice. noticing that there weren't any chicken or fried eggs left, you lean back at your seat dejected as you mindlessly play with the remains of your food.

wonbin taps on your shoulder and whispers something in your ear.

"you okay?"

you gave him a weird look before shrugging and waving him off, "yeah why wouldn't i be?" you say

though you've insisted that you were fine, wonbin knows that deep down, you wish that it was you in the place of yujin.

“really? in front of my kimchi fried rice?” you say in a joking manner, making gagging sounds in front of the couple causing them to sheepishly stop their actions. yujin blushing as sungchan apologizes on their behalf

everyone around the table laughs at your comment.

“was waiting for someone to say something!” shotaro quips

“you guys are just jealous that he brought his girl to this trip” seunghan laughs, sohee hitting him from laughing so much

“don’t mind her sungchan. y/n is just jealous that no one is feeding her the way you're feeding yujin” eunseok chuckles, teasing you. the whole table (including wonbin) doubles over laughing

your eyes widened, you were totally caught off guard by his comment of you being jealous. to make yourself not look any more suspicious, you laugh awkwardly, defending yourself against such accurate allegations

“am not! was just trying to lift the mood since there's no food left, that’s all..” you try to explain but it just makes you even more awkward

without another word, wonbin suddenly makes train noises

“here comes the chicken train~ choo choo~” wonbin holds out the piece of chicken skin he was saving to eat last to you.

you looked at him like he was crazy. totally not expecting such bold actions from wonbin. it was pretty hard to believe he would let you have the last piece of his chicken.

the table then start to make “ooh” noises, also not expecting this from wonbin. especially not to you. last time they checked, you two didn’t have anything going on? or do you?

“what the fuck?” eunseok exclaims

“rue? when was this?” sohee chimes in

“couple off!” seunghan beams, seemingly invested between the two couples on the trip

you then make eye contact with sungchan and he almost looks a bit hurt? he was about to open his mouth to make a comment before you feel wonbin kick your leg beside you. a signal to follow his lead

ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and the way your heart was pounding against your chest, you open your mouth to let wonbin feed you

“say ahh” wonbin coos before shoving the said chicken skin to your mouth. you slapped his arm in retaliation with how harsh he fed you

“were you trying to get back at me from the marshmallow incident?!” you yelped as you chewed on your food, repeatedly hitting him on his shoulder. wonbin laughs loudly, head falling back before diverting his attention back to his now half empty plate. man, he was totally saving that piece to himself but how could he when you looked like that?

“i just gave you the chicken skin i was saving for myself and this is how you thank me?” wonbin sasses, an eyebrow raised as he looks at you with that look.

you then burst out laughing at his sassy outburst. unbeknownst to you, it sounded like music to wonbin’s ears.

he turns away as you continue to laugh, smiling to himself that at least you forgot about sungchan even if it was just for a moment. something in wonbin felt like he wants hear you laugh more often. no more to your sad sappy self and more of you being happy

“this sucks! i’m surrounded by couples!” seunghan whines, after witnessing the most romantic act wonbin has ever done.

“what are you even yapping about? wonbin and i aren’t a couple!” you protest

“yet” wonbin shrugs, finishing up his plate before going to the kitchen to put his dishes away

the way he says it so smoothly made you choke on your spit, your face turning red. eunseok swiftly hands you his drink, smacking your back before you pass out in the middle of the table

“eunseok’s gonna have to have that talk with wonbin i see..” shotaro sang, wiggling his eyebrows as nudges eunseok’s shoulder

“i thought i told you guys to back off my sister?” eunseok clicks his tongue in annoyance, tilting his head to the side. he was now beginning to question what's really going on between you and wonbin

“wonbin hyung is so brave!” sohee cackles

you can only awkwardly laugh at the current state of the situation. you and wonbin were just playing pretend after all. it was only contractual to get over your feelings with sungchan. it would be only a matter of time before the truth gets out and you’re praying to the gods above that no one ever finds out. especially not sungchan

between the lines ★ yet

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

˗ˏˋ prev | next ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ another wordcount of 2k . whats bigger than a crumb ? piece?? YNBIN PIECE

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @leehanascent @wonychu @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @pinkskiesdream

[tteokdoroki]

hi aali!! welcome back!!! it’s so lovely to see you on my dash again <3 I saw your ask game and my eyes popped out of my sockets— would it be alright if you could do

❛ i need to come. please, i'll do anything. ❜ + breeding kink + sero hanta ?

I hope you’re having a lovely day!!

☆༉ — HANTA SERO: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ i need to come. please, i'll do anything. ❜

extension. breeding kink + afab!reader + nsfw, mentions of makeup.

things to note. eee thank u baby!! im happy to be back n i hope u enjoy this mwah mwah mwah (also i seem to have a terrible obsession with sero n cowgirl bye)

sero fucking adores you on top for three reasons in particular. 

the first is that he can see your face when you cry, getting to look directly up at you while you sniffle and sob because he’s fucking you to high heavens and you need some kind of out let to bring you back down from cloud nine. sero will swipe a thumb under your big glossy eyes, and suck the salty tears from the pad of it just to get a reaction out of you. usually it makes you cry harder, until your mascara is nothing but dark tracks on your cheeks and your lips are wet and shiny from your own tears.

the second is that sero gets to feel you up, touch all over you. his finger tips will cascade from the back of your neck to your throat, dragging you down to slot his cheeky mouth against yours. his tongue then prods and pushes past the seam of your lips, toying with the taste of your sugar-coated and ecstasy dipped whimpers (and perhaps the taste of his cock) on your own. sometimes his hands dip lower, thumbing at those sensitive nipples until they’re budding like flowers in bloom, hanta’ll put his mouth on them too, catch your breasts in its hit cavern when they jiggle cutely as you bounce up and down on his curved length.  

you’ve always said that you like how his black rooted hair tickles your skin when he leaves hu kiss across your chest. 

but most of all, he likes it when you use him for your own pleasure — as if he’s nothing but a real life dildo and a sack of emotions. “fuckin’…shit honey. you’re fucking me so good,” sero is love sick, as you sink down on his slender cock and circle your hips to make sure you’ve taken it all. “show me how that pussy takes it, baby. wanna see,” 

he’s running his mouth, slurring over spit and poorly strung together sentences and he knows you’re not listening. you’re too focused on bringing yourself right to the edge again and getting what you want, his cum in your gorgeous cunt until it’s running down both of your thighs. thrusting downward, both of you share a satisfied moan as sero’s leaky tip bullies it’s way up your glistening walls to bare down perfectly against your g-spot — you gush in response, a fresh wave of your nectar beading perfectly down his shaft. only catching on the blue forked veins that spiral around him. 

through the misty veil of lust that clouds your brain, you manage to grasp at sero’s wrist — dragging his hand between your shaky overworked legs to guide him into spreading your pussy lips apart. “y’see me han’, ‘m all wet, all for you.” you tell him earnestly, bathing his throbbing cock in your warmth. you make sure that he gets an eyeful, a chance to observe the crude mix of his milky precum and your juices that run through your parted folds like treacle. “need you.” 

before he has a chance to sing your praises, you brace your hands on the broad scope of sero’s chest — lifting yourself up and down in his lap, working yourself on his cock like it’s all that you’re trained to do. seeing himself smeared over your clit, stringing white glazing your thighs only motivates sero to fuck up into you — chasing your high and his own, desperate to see more of his cream inside of you. 

or maybe he’s desperate to get you knocked up, see you swell with his seed — churn your insides up real good and have you all bred by him. who knows what he wants? sero can’t even tell, already burying himself to the hilt inside of you, grabbing your hips, your ass, your waist and circling you over him so that your eyes roll back. “i need to cum. please, i'll do anything.” he chants like it’s a mantra or a prayer dedicated to you. “wanna fill you up nice ‘n pretty. you want that, right? you wanna cum on me, pretty baby? make me cum deep inside—“ 

hanta can’t help but goad you, coerce you into riding him faster, harder — even if you’d intended to drag this one out. “that’s it, baby. use me, fuck yourself down on me. please,” he stutters out. he could die here, sero thinks, and he’d be so fucking happy — watching your eyes disappear into the dark of your skull, your thighs quiver and your chest sway with your sinful movements. “please, , jus’ wanna make’a’mess of these insides, wanna fuck my cum so deep inside it sticks. gotta have you full of me…”

“then cum, hanta. make me yours,” tip of the iceberg and the key to heaven’s gates is when you flip the script, begging for him to breed you. your slick walls start to twitch around him, your release trickling out of you without even a warning. that’s when hanta knows he’s fucked. 

a pathetic sob nearly knocks his heart and lungs out of place when he finally hits his high, rope after rope of hot white seed flooding your clenching hole — he grabs your hips so tight that you’ll see fingerprints in the morning and keeps you still on top of him through the aftershocks of your orgasms. 

maybe there’s a fourth thing sero loves about having you on top — the way you always beg for his cum in the end.

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

[ravencincaide]

Men like flowers too 

Summary: When you get him flowers for valentines day, his reaction is far from what you expected OR sometimes taking a risk pays off. 

Pairing: fem! reader x Chuuya 

Requested by: @chuuyaswifeandhoe Thank you so much for your request, it was most certainly one of the more challenging ones for me. Still I hope this is at least a fraction of what you imagined 🩷

Warnings: cursing, reckless driving, very very light hint at possible sexual content

You did not know whether this was a good idea or if it would somehow make the already disappointing Valentine's turn a bitter-sour awkward experience as you missed the mark entirely. Twisted precious Japanese traditions into something western-influenced- but not really. All the while making a hot mess of yourself in the process.

But you were about to find out. 

Without a second thought, you opened the passenger side of the bright red sports car and you flopped down into the leather seats quickly and in-elegantly. You made sure you were inside the vehicle and ready to go before your beloved valentine had a chance to finish his textmessage. The second a low tsk’ made it past his lips followed with a half-hearted curse as his thumb brushed over the turn-off button of the small device, you made your move.

“ Here you go” Your voice was a sing-song purr as you stretched more like dump in his lap a box of especially imported wine infused chocolates and the exceptionally large and ridiculous bouquet of red and orange flowers tied together with a matching obnoxious ribbon that ended in a rosette. You tried to sound casual- like this was the most natural thing in the world for you to do as you reached towards the seatbelt. 

Still you watched Chuuya’s reaction closely.

First, the way his eyes widened, a mildly surprised expression clouded the otherwise focused and slightly work-annoyed look. Then his lips set into a straight line: a thin, displeased thing. As if you had just critiqued him to his face about something Chuuya had done but had not had the chance to show it off to you.Yet. 

An unjustified disappointment.  

“ Did you buy these for yourself, Sweetheart?” Before you could answer he leaned towards the passenger side, the flowers you got almost squashed between you two. His fingers grasped your chin and forced you to look him straight in the eyes. No escape from those piercing orbs. 

“ Y/N what did we say? You never buy flowers for yourself, Baby-girl. Especially not on fucking Valentines of all days- that is my job” he kept his voice low and leveled, yet the red of his eyes gave you an indication of how annoyed he was. No how angry he got at the mere thought that you consider him so incompetent so as to not get you flowers on the one day a year dedicated to love in western traditions.

Japanese traditions could go screw themselves. He was not about to do nothing for you while you showered him in chocolates of all shapes, makes, qualities and sizes. 

“ They’re for you, silly” you replied with a small nervous smile tugged on the corners of your lips. However your nervous smile was quickly replaced with an amused one as you watched his eyes widen, returning back to stunning blue as he shifted them away from you and down towards the flowers between you. They widened as they landed on the petals, getting bent in between your bodies. Quickly he moved back and placed the flowers down onto his lap while he cleared his throat in silent apology. His mind obviously searched for something to say that was not the typical flat ‘thank you’ yet it came up empty. Much to his own frustration and your satisfaction. And the pink tint on his cheeks served as the cherry on top. 

This reaction was not one you would forget anytime soon. 

“ Uh-huh thanks– ahh what the heck” Chuuya started the car without warning before he pulled out of the mall parking lot, his speed double the legal limit. You rushed to get your seatbelt on in the meantime. 

The second you turned your eyes back to the road you realized something. 

“ C-chuu this isn’t the way to the Head Quarters” you gasped as he pulled out into the highway. Had your orders changed while you were collecting his gift? No, they hadn’t, you realized in horror as his lips pulled up into a smirk, while one of his hands let go of the steering wheel and dropped into your lap, giving your thigh a loving squeeze. It was a hint as to what was to come once he finally got you home. Before you could reason with him, said hand started moving upwards,drawing a startled “ Chuuya!” from your lips.

Author note: Happy Valentines day! I hope this request fullfilled your expectations. I'm aware this is not as smooth as my usual ones but I still hope it drew a smile from your lips!

This was the last SFW fic for today. The remaining three will fall within the NSFW category. So for some of you, Raven's special is coming to an end with this fic. I hope you have enjoyed and thank you all who have participated and send requests 🩷

Like this work and want more? Check out Raven's Masterlist

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[milliesfishes]

𝓔𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻)𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

[fem reader] contains: kidnapping, prejudice, death, blood, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. thank you all for the support on this series! it's been such a blast to write, I'm really proud of this one <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Many a man had been claimed by a siren’s song, and Billy was no exception. Though the way he’d been pulled under differed slightly from the others.

He stumbled across you singing one day when you were awaiting him on the beach, lying staring up at the sky as the tide re-soaked your tail. The words flowed from your mouth in a haunting, tantalizing way. But it was still you. He could hear the sweetness underneath it. That was his girl.

Kneeling at your side, Billy reached for your hand. “That’s pretty, baby.”

Your eyes widened and your head whipped to face him. Now your hands were on his face, his chest, seemingly checking for something. “Are you okay?”

He frowned in confusion. “Yeah, sweet, I’m alright.”

Still, you searched his eyes, breathing quickening. “I didn’t mean to sing in front of you…I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Hey, hey,” Billy’s brow was furrowed worriedly, and he reached for your hands, squeezing them. “What’re ya sorry for?”

“My…my song…” you choked, nearly hysterical. Your eyes wandered his face as if waiting for something terrible to happen. “It can hurt humans. I’ve never used it before…I don’t wanna hurt you, I-”

He pulled you into a hug before you could say anything else, trying to soothe you. Billy had never seen you this upset before, this despondent. The mere thought of hurting him was hurting you, and his heart swelled. 

The next time he came to the shore, you were bubbly and all smiles, reaching up for him with grabby hands like a baby. It was the polar opposite of how he’d left you last time, with a kiss to your brow and a promise he was okay. 

He succumbed to your touch, letting you pull him in for a long kiss. You broke it off, already chattering. “I found the answer! About my siren song!”

Grinning, he gently chucked you under the chin, a little unsure what you’d needed an answer to. “‘Course ya did, baby. Knew ya would.”

You threw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. Though your voice was muffled by skin, he was able to make out the words, “It’s ‘cause I love you.”

“What is?” he murmured, face half in your hair.

“My song didn’t affect you,” you explained, still burrowed against him. “It should have sent you into a trance. But it didn’t and it’s because I love you.”

Pulling back, you tilted your head, watching his reaction. Smiling, Billy leaned in, planting a kiss on your mouth and pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb. He looked at you like you’d dotted every star in the sky. “You’re a wonder,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “My girl…”

The rest of the night was spent with you bundled up in his arms. At his insistence, you were singing softly, hesitant at first, but leaning more into it as you saw the only effect on him was the lovestruck look in his eyes.

“My true love’s blood/ mixed with my tears/I drank it and walked/’till the end of my years.”

Billy was nearly in a trance at your voice. He shifted you against his chest, lowering his lips to your hair. “Pretty.”

You smiled softly, the look in your eyes reminiscent of the sea on a calm day. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Why?” he asked casually, his fingers trailing up your back into your hair. It was a subject of fascination to him, the way it flowed over your body as if it were silk, covered your torso modestly, but stuck to you like a second skin when it was wet. Billy loved to touch it, wind it around his fingers, braid it like rope. Sometimes he'd find primrose growing nearby and stick it between your strands, creating a crown of flowers that you wore regally.

You rested your chin on his chest. He’d removed his shirt earlier, knowing you liked to be skin-to skin with him. It was an intimate action that filled his heart with a gentle fire like a hearth in the winter. “It’s supposedly a recipe for how to turn a mermaid into a human forever.”

“Really?” Billy’s interest was piqued, and he hummed in thought. “‘S that somethin’ you’d wanna do?”

Half shrugging, you moved so your ear was over his heart, the steady thump a comforting thing. He adjusted the flower behind your ear and you smiled. “I’m not sure. But it’s nice to think about sometimes.”

Billy watched your expression, the way you visibly relaxed when you were between his arms. Now the future called from the horizon, and he watched the fantasies play out. He saw himself saving up enough to quit piracy forever and get a little house on the bay, where he’d see you every day. He watched his silhouette become a fisherman and live out the rest of his days that way, you at his side, always waving at him from the water. And maybe once in a blue moon you’d come ashore for a night and he’d get to hold you as he fell asleep.

These visions in mind, he looked back down at you, with your shimmery tail and long, lovely hair. “I’m happy with whatever you want, angel. ‘S long as you still want me ‘round. Even then I’d be fine dreamin’ of you forever.”

Lifting your head, you smiled at him in a bittersweet way. But there was hope in your eyes, he could see it ignite. “I don’t ever want you to let go of me.”

“I won’t,” he said instantly, leaning down and kissing your forehead with the gentlest of touches. “Isn’t gonna get better than this, sweet. Not one bit.”

With a sweet smile, you reached your hand up, fist closed around something. He cocked his head when you placed a little blue shell on his chest, pale and perfect. 

Grinning, he took it in his hand, and your pretty one came up to close his fingers around it. “Didja bring this for me, sweet girl?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you rested your chin on his chest, hair falling over him in its curtain-like way. “It looks like your eyes. And the ocean. And my tail.”

Billy raised his hand to rest on the crown of your head, bringing your face down so he could kiss you softly. He nudged his nose against yours. “All my favorite things.”

Your lovely laughter echoed in his head long after the fact.

It was bouncing around in his head now, as he awoke on the rocking ship, dreams lingering in his mind before they were lost to waking.

Springing up, he nearly fell out of his hammock when he heard the shout of Land, ho! Three days of sailing had finally amounted to the destination.

After the harrowing events of that fateful night you'd been stolen from him, he'd asked around back at port about mermaid bidders with a throbbing head and a sore lip. An older fisherman had directed him to a boat leaving within the hour, setting sail for Imber, the island Murphy and the crew were likely headed for.

Marching up to the ship's captain, he'd offered his services in exchange for passage, and the man had agreed. Billy worked and toiled over the ship, hardly able to think of anything except for you.

The circumstances were dire. You were in the hands of ruthless pirates, all of which had incentive to hurt you. He knew his sweet girl. He knew you wouldn't use your mermaid's powers against them no matter how bad things got. Even though you could have drowned them all in a second with a single note of your voice, you were too gentle, too empathetic to humans as a whole to even open your mouth.

There was no control to be had. Not yet. So, he labored diligently to try and get to the location. You were his compass, pointing to the big red X on the map of his heart. 

His body ached for you. At all times he could see your shadow swimming in front of his eyes, asking a question he was happy to have the answer to. Oh, he'd never let you leave his arms again. He'd make a thousand vows, utter even more apologies, bundle you in his arms with nothing between your bodies. 

With the determination of a man in love, he marched down the plank ashore, breathing in the scent of fish for sale and rotting wood of the time-worn dinghies bobbing nearby. He didn’t see Jesse’s ship in the harbor, though. The town was bustling, a steady hum of chatter giving him hope. Someone around here had to have seen a crew of pirates transporting a mermaid.

The first ten people he questioned hadn’t. Nor did the following twenty. All day he grabbed the arms of passerby, begging for any tiny detail that could lead him to your captors. But nobody had seen a thing, and quite a few thought he’d had too much sun for talking about mermaids. He was losing his resolve, dreading that maybe he’d come to the wrong island, or worse, that the crew had already rid themselves of you, sailing off with a ship weighed down in gold.

Finally, after dark, he came across a man with a harsh sunburn who was gutting a fish and admitted he knew of someone who worked in mystical dealings. “He’s an odd fella, but maybe ‘e can help ya,” he said roughly, nodding east. “Lives just outside town. Little shack on the shore. Can’t miss it.”

Billy thanked him eagerly, half-running in that direction as he did. If the crew had already passed through town, maybe whoever the sunburned man mentioned already had you. And while Billy didn’t have much in the way of funds, he was a pirate. Normally he cursed the fact, but now he reveled in it. Maybe his lifestyle would finally be of some use and he’d be able to steal you away.

The shack was ominous, more so than it would have been in the light; old and weathered by years of use. Billy warily approached it, summoning his courage. It was for you. He repeated the phrase like a mantra over and over again as he knocked on the door. 

A man just as haggard as his dwelling answered, peering at Billy through a crack in the door. “Can I help you?”

Shifting on his feet, Billy straightened to his full height, trying not to let on his fear. “I was wonderin’...have ya heard anythin’ ‘bout or seen anyone with…a mermaid?” The last part was said in wary tones. He waited for the man to call him crazy or shut the door in his face. After hours of asking that very question of so many people, Billy was aware of how crazy it sounded.

To his surprise, the old man’s eyes lit up. He opened the door fully, stepping outside and shutting it behind him. When he leaned in, Billy could see how cloudy his eyes were, as if he was nearly blind. “There was a pirate here earlier. He spoke of a mermaid. Apparently he’d heard of some of the trading I involve myself with.” His speech was surprisingly elegant given the circumstances, but it made Billy lean in. He nodded, encouraging the old man to continue.

“Folks speak of seeing mermaids all the time, but he had one with him,” the man tapped his chin. “Pretty little thing. Looked scared.”

“And what happened to her? Do you have her?” Billy looked up over him at the shack, as if it would reveal you behind the walls.

“No,” the man shook his head, and Billy’s shoulders slumped. “They said they would come up with another offer and come back tomorrow. The price I gave wasn’t high enough.” He shrugged. “It is what it is. Couldn’t give ‘em more because she was so weak. Brings the value down.”

Hearing that you were in an unstable condition only increased Billy’s worries. He shook off the comment about your worth. The man didn’t know better. “D’ya know where they are now?”

“There’s a little cove just a mile north,” the man nodded, casting his eyes to the side as he thought. “They didn’t wanna take her offboard so they brought me there.” Then he suddenly looked up, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You aren’t looking to buy, are you?”

Energized by the information, Billy quickly shook his head. “No. No, I…just was curious ‘bout…mermaids,” he finished lamely. 

The old man stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “I see. Well…wouldn’t get too close to the ship if I was you. They’re a nasty bunch.” He gave Billy a secretive look. “Maybe if I get my hands on her I can letcha see. For a price ‘f course.” Patting him once on the arm, the old man turned around, going back into his shack. “Good luck!”

 Billy’s eyes were fixed on the door after it shut, processing the information given. He looked northward, and without thinking, broke into a run. 

Everything reminded him of you. The moonlight took him back to the night he'd met you. The sand was remnant of the grains he'd find in his hair after a day well spent on the beach with you resting contently on top of him. But the most glaring thing was the ocean itself, ebbing and flowing as it was wont to do, conjuring images of your stormy eyes, thinly veiling the secrets beneath. Secrets he wouldn't dare name.

Fate was a mysterious thing, as mysterious as what it brought him. He yearned to rein it in but was as wild as a woman's heart. Billy had long known his future was as storm-tossed as his past, but with you, the present was clear, smooth, perfect for sailing into good-weathered places to remain forever.

He’d run the length of the earth to get you back.

Stumbling upon the cove, Billy instantly recognized the ship. It was half ashore, which was unusual, but he shrugged it off. As he got closer he could hear voices aboard. The tide lapped at his boots, and he strained to listen, but the sounds of the water muffled the voices.

Reaching up for the first rung of the makeshift ladder ingrained in the ship, Billy pulled himself up. This was the way you’d gotten up to visit him aboard so many times, and he marveled at your strength as he climbed. You’d done it without legs to support you, too.

Hauling himself up close to the railing, Billy peered up, hoping nobody would see him. Luckily, everyone on deck’s attention seemed fixed on someone in the direction of the hull.

He was able to make out Jesse from here, and Murphy too. Odd. He’d have thought the latter would have been the one everybody was listening to. Shifting where he was, Billy craned his head to try and see who was speaking. When he caught sight, his heart dropped and he nearly let go of the bars he was using to keep himself propped up.

Pat Garrett. His former crewmate.

They’d been like brothers, as close as Jesse and him had once been. But Pat had been marooned one day a few years ago, his reputation having made the law pay too close of attention to them. The action was for the safety of the crew, Jesse had said. It’d never sat right with Billy, and he silently held a grudge against his captain because of it.

Now, Pat seemed to be doing just fine, all trussed up in a commander’s uniform. He exuded power, and Billy could see Murphy and Jesse drawn to it like a fish to a hook. Even though he was closer to the action, he still couldn’t understand what they were saying. 

With what must have been Pat’s final word, everyone scattered, most heading belowdecks, likely toward the sleeping quarters. Murphy said something to Pat, and the two of them disappeared behind a door Billy knew to lead to the captain’s cabin.

Only Jesse remained on deck now, and for a moment, Billy could have sworn he saw him. Lowering himself a bit, Billy hoped the shadows of the ship and the night were hiding him well enough.

The captain stared at the spot near him for just a second, and then he turned around, going to a door he recognized as one where gunpowder used to be stored. Jesse was only in there for a few minutes, and when he came out he was holding a length of rope. He looked from side to side, as if checking for intruders, and in that instance, Billy knew that was where you were being kept.

You were so close he could almost feel your shape in his arms.

It was draining, being just above the ocean but not in it.

You could feel it below like it was your life force, the draw, the way it pulled at you. But there wasn't a lot you could do when you were tied up, stuffed into some back cabin of a ship.

Every day to keep you alive, a crew member shoved the door open and threw a crude bucket of water over your head so your tail wouldn't dry out. Then he would leave you, drenched and cold and alone, skin burning from the feel of the ropes. If they were ever removed, you knew there would be scars.

The room was windowless, which added to your desolation. It was dark in here, and you longed for the feel of the sun on your face, for the salt air on your tongue. Freedom was caged, and you wanted the key desperately.

You cried so much that first night, tears pouring like rivers. Not immune to the lore of them, the one who you'd met in the market- Jesse, you remembered, sat with you for hours, collecting your tears in tiny glass containers until you had no more water to spare. The little bottles were sitting on the floor near you, about twenty or so. It was almost like they were taunting you.

The only comfort to you now was the ghost of Billy's presence. He'd been on this ship, maybe in this very room. You pretended he was just outside the door, about to come in and scoop you up and tell you everything was okay.

Your body was weak. The first day trapped here you'd been sitting upright, but now you were lying on your side, eyes closed. The lack of sea rendered you unmovable.

The door creaked open, and you lifted your head wearily, seeing a figure in the doorway. Jesse again.

Was he here to collect more tears? Maybe pluck a scale from your tail while he was at it? The man shoved you to sit up, and you leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes again. Whatever he did, you hoped it would be quick.

Then you felt fingers undoing your bindings. Eyes opening, you turned your head to look at him. His face was firm as he loosened the ropes, tossing them to the side. "No sense in keepin' ya tied up," he said roughly, untying the final knot. "Isn't like you could get away."

With that he left, shutting the door and enshrouding you in darkness once more. You listlessly stretched your wrist out in front of your face, touching the burning part with your fingertips. It was hot. It hurt. You wanted to cry again, but you dreaded him coming back in and taking more tears.

Now that there were no restraints, your mind stupidly told you that you could get to the door. But your body was devoid of any strength, and you flopped to the ground again. Your limbs were heavy, your body akin to something shattered. Maybe you would die. And they wouldn't be able to use you.

Utter despair overtook your heart, and you let your hair fall over your shoulders and head, forehead resting on the wood beneath you. You hoped Billy would never find you, never have to see your crumpled form devoid of life. He could move on and find something else somewhere else. You wished a thousand things for him. None of them involved you.

At least you'd gotten to love so wonderfully before you died. Billy had taught you so much, given you all of him. You loved him desperately for it, and now you managed a weak smile at the thought, drawing a shuddering, gasping breath.

A creak sounded in the little room, and you didn't move, sure death was coming soon. What more could they possibly take from you? Life was slithering out of you the way the tide drew back from the sand.

Heavy bootsteps. Someone knelt beside you, knees touching your side. There was a hand in your hair, smoothing it. Stroking it. "Baby..."

An alarm sounded in your heart, and you lifted your head slowly with whatever strength you had left, blearily opening your eyes. Billy was sitting beside you, seeming relieved and concerned all rolled into one.

For a moment you were sure you'd died. He wouldn't be here otherwise, big hand on your head, feeling your cheek and looking at you with worried eyes. Then he whispered, "What’ve they done to my girl?"

Suddenly you registered the feel of his hand. Billy was here. He had come for you. Your eyes welled up, and you shakily let out a breathy sob.

Billy leaned down, lifting you up under your arms and pulling you into his lap, worn body supported by his chest. He buried his nose in your hair, pressing his lips there and holding you tight. "My baby...angel baby...my poor girl. I'm here, sweetie, I'm here. Oh, honey..."

He planted kiss after kiss on your face, almost trying to revive you with his touch. The presence of your lover gave you a little strength, and you sniffled, tears soaking his neck. There were a few little scars there, and when you lifted your head a bit, you could see them fading from his skin.

The pure joy you felt in seeing him could have replaced the sea for the rest of your life. Billy held you close, holding your limp body up, his strong arms contrasting it. You looked up at him, eyes wide. “How did you find me?”

“Asked around,” he muttered, his cheek pressed against your head. Nuzzling his nose against your hair, Billy brought his hand up to rest against the back of your head. “Woulda gone to the end of the world for m’ girl.” He studied your form, eyes catching on your dried tail. “Sweetheart…how long’s it been since you’ve seen the sea?”

“Not since that night,” you said softly, and he huffed, rubbing your arm. “They’ve been putting water on me.”

“Can only imagine how that’s goin’,” he frowned, looking around the room. His eyes caught on the bottles of tears. Reaching for one, he uncorked it, pouring it on your tail. The feel of the liquid made it twitch, and you felt slight rejuvenation.

Shaking your head, you stopped his hand before he could get another one. “Billy, those are my tears. They’re not gonna work on me.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s water and it’s makin’ ya feel better.” He firmly kissed your head. “I can see it. C’mon sweetie-” Propping you up so your back was against his chest, he secured one arm over your collarbone as he emptied the contents of each bottle one by one onto your tail, little strength coming with each one. Both your hands clutched his forearm, your head weakly leaning against him. 

He looked at you so tenderly, lovingly, that you nearly melted. He’d come for you; your hero, your love. Billy was too good to be true. On those lazy days of old on the shore he’d confessed to you his worries over his soul’s place. He hated his profession, his spot in the world. 

To himself he was nothing worth saving. A stain on your otherwise pure heart. But to you he was everything. You saw through the circumstances he’d been forced into and found who he truly was. A good man. The way he loved you was a sure indication.

And you’d be damned if he was hurt because he wanted to save you.

Before he could pour the last bottle, you tugged on his sleeve. “You need to get out of here…it’s not safe. You shouldn’t have come.” 

Face falling, he set the last bottle aside, shadowing with concern. His hand came up to brush your hair behind your ear. “Baby I ain’t leavin’ without you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you sniffled, shaking your head. “Not for me. You need to go.” 

He took your face in both his hands, thumbs smoothing your cheeks. “Honey, we’re gonna leave right now, m’kay? Both ‘f us.”

You were still worried as he scooped you up into his arms, standing and giving your brow a soft kiss. Something didn’t feel right. “Billy-”

The door burst open, pirates storming in and surrounding you. Unable to help it, you gave a helpless little yelp of fear, and Billy’s arms tightened around you. His head turned back and forth as the men raised their guns and swords, the threat apparent that they’d attack if he made a single move.

You felt the betrayal in waves. This had been his crew, his friends even. And now they were turning against him. Billy pressed your face into his shoulder, and you knew it was for your own safety. 

“Let us pass,” he demanded, his words rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your body. 

“Don’t think so,” a rough voice responded. “You’re holdin’ our money.”

“You had the chance to sell ‘er and ya didn’t, Murphy,” Billy responded, and you thought of the old man who’d poked and prodded at your tired body, speaking as though you weren’t in the room. How Billy knew, you had no idea. “Figured you weren’t gonna and I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“We ain’t sellin’ her,” Murphy responded. “That’s a one time payoff. What she has to offer’s much more valuable.”

Billy’s body tensed, and suddenly you knew what the bottles of tears had been for. “Either way she’s comin’ with me.”

“Slow down, Billy,” a new voice said. You lifted your head. It was that man with the mustache who’d come on the ship today. The way he looked at you was the way a shark eyed a fish. Billy tried to push your head back down, but you shook it once and he relented.

“Didn’t think I’d see ya ‘gain,” Billy responded to the mustached man. “Much less like this.”

“We’ve got a deal, Murphy and I,” the man said in even tones. “The law looks the other way and I get a little somethin’ for my efforts.”

Scoffing, Billy shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day Pat Garrett was on that side.”

“Man’s gotta change to survive sometimes,” Pat folded his arms over his shiny uniform. 

“And yet here ya are,” Billy bit, and you tugged his collar. He was getting tense, too upset. Face softening as he looked at you, his tone grew benign. “Just let us go. Ya won’t ever see me or her again.”

Murphy and Pat exchanged looks. You could see Jesse standing slightly behind them, looking forlorn. There was tension in the air, and you held Billy tight, feeling his heartbeat race. He shifted you in his arms and covered your bare breast with one hand, having seen the eyes of some of the crew lingering on it. Normally you didn’t mind, but there was something in their gaze that made you vastly uncomfortable. And Billy had known. 

Lifting your chin, your eyes caught his, and you found safety in the blue of them. They reminded you of the water, clear and warm and wonderful. After being so deprived, you were swimming again.

He rested his cheek against your head, and your heart soared. Billy didn’t care about how the crew perceived him. It was clear by his actions and his expression that you were the only thing on his mind. And you loved him for it.

Turning back, you saw Murphy nod at Pat, and the mustached man lifted his chin at Billy. “Fine. Go.” He gave a motion, and the rest of the crew filed out of the room, save for Jesse.

Billy’s sigh of relief was soft, but you felt it, your own escaping you. He nodded at the three men, eyes landing back on you in the end. Adjusting your hair so it fell over your breast, he steadied his arms around you so he had a better grasp. Eyes tender, he dropped his nose to your hair, kissing it and whispering, “It’s gonna be okay,” with his lips touching you still. 

In his eyes you saw hope for the first time in days. Your Billy was here. He was here and he was going to get you out.

It happened in a flash. One minute Billy was taking a step, the next you were being wrenched from his arms, and then there was a gunshot. Billy hadn’t had his pistol drawn.

You squirmed and wriggled in the arms of whoever had grabbed you, digging your nails into your captor. He dropped you, cursing, and you crashed to the ground, whimpering in pain. His footsteps sounded as he ran, and you thanked the sea gods he did.

When you had your bearings again, you lifted your head, pushing hair out of your eyes. One of the men had collapsed, groaning in pain. The other two were standing above him, a pistol in one of their hands. You crawled forward, trying to see who it was, heart pounding in dread. Please…please…

The two men noticed your movements and turned. Neither of their faces were Billy’s.

Your mouth opened in horror, and you reached out for him, trying desperately to get to his body. “No, no-!”

Murphy whispered something to Pat, and he exited promptly. Then he bent down, grabbing your arm and beginning to pull you away. “C’mon. Out.”

“No!” The wood burned against your tail as he dragged you away, and your breathing grew shaky. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Billy, who was shifting on the ground, grunting in pain. As the older pirate lugged you away, you twisted at a new angle, catching sight of the wound on Billy’s chest. The blood.

A scream wrenched itself from your throat, piercing the air with your anguish. You didn’t think, your body acted on pure instinct. Though your eyes didn’t leave Billy, you heard Murphy shout in torment, and his hand shook around you. You turned your head to look at him, guilt creeping into your heart when you saw that his ears were bleeding, his eyes bloodshot. The effects of your siren’s voice had inched into his body, and now his knees were buckling, sending him falling face first onto the wooden planks of the ground. 

Breath hitching, you tried not to think about what you’d just done. Jerking your wrist away from his stiffened hold, you crawled toward your lover, gasping when you saw the extent of the wound. It was gaping, cut right through his chest. You took in shuddering breaths, shaking your head. There was blood dripping from him to the floor, and it stained your tail, your body as you leaned over him, hair brushing his side. “Billy-”

He smiled weakly at the sight of you, one hand grasping where the bullet had lodged. The other hand came to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Hey baby…”

“You’re okay…you’re gonna be okay…please…” You tried to summon your tears, but the shock of the event and the guilt over your scream had stilled your ability. Looking around wildly, you saw the last bottle of tears, the one Billy hadn’t used on you. Relief washed over you as your hand stretched out to grasp it.

“He’ll…he’ll be back soon…” Billy breathed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking about Pat or Jesse. “You gotta…gotta…”

“It’ll be okay, all okay,” you murmured hurriedly, shaky hands struggling to uncork the bottle. “Let me do this and you’ll be okay, we’ll be able to get out-”

“No…’s too big…” he whispered, wincing as he looked down at the bloody puncture. “Baby-”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you thought you heard footsteps. “I can fix it, I’m so sorry, I can-”

“Baby.” His voice was urgent, and you paused your motions, dropping the cork. Billy drew you in with his eyes first, and then his hand was behind your head, pulling you down into a tender kiss. You could feel tears on his cheeks, which terrified you. But his lips moved against yours, and you lost yourself in it. There was so much love, so much care in that kiss, and your eyes fluttered shut, hand coming up to grasp his collar. 

You hardly noticed him prying the bottle from your hand.

Eyes flying open, you tried to reach for it, but he was already holding it to the hand covering his gash, letting a single drop of blood fall inside. Your eyes widened round as sand dollars when you realized what he was doing. “No-!”

He shoved the vial to your lips, using his hand in your hair to tilt your head back. The motion forced you to swallow it, the bitterness making you cough. Billy’s arm became weak, and he dropped the bottle, glass shattering on the ground. The shards created a treacherous surface beneath you, but you hardly paid attention due to the nature of what was happening now.

 -My true love’s blood/ mixed with my tears/I drank it and walked/’till the end of my years-

This was nothing like how it’d been when you’d come ashore with the pearl under your tongue. No, this was excruciating, pain ripping through your lower half in waves. You cried out, head falling against Billy. He stroked your hair soothingly, other hand still gripping his wound. Feebly, he said, “I know, I know, sweet girl…it’s okay, it’s okay…”

Your sobs were dry, heaving, and your tail went numb. The pain eased away, and you lifted your head, aghast when you saw that two long, smooth legs had replaced your tail.

Frozen in shock, you stared at your new limbs, hating yourself for ever singing that song for him. Hating even more that he had remembered it. Looking back at Billy, you saw his somber eyes. “It’s…the only way…t’...t’ make sure they couldn’t…”

Your mermaid tail was gone. Your value was diminished. There was nothing left to take from you. 

But they’d already taken the most important thing.

Broken glass cut your skin as you shifted to be near him, hair falling over his face. Like curtains, he’d told you once. Billy’s hand slid from your crown to your ear, tucking your hair behind it. He smiled in an ailing way and you could see the light in his eyes fading. “I ever tell ya…how beautiful…you are?”

Your body shook as the awful realization crept over you. His expression softened more, if that was possible, an unknown force settling between you. Billy used his hand on your head to bring you close once again, pressing a single kiss to your forehead. He held his lips to you for too short a time. “Go live…I taught ya everything I know…’bout bein’ human.”

“I will with you.” Tears were welling up in your eyes, but you held them back. They were useless now. “I still have so many questions. You need to show me more Billy, please-” your breath hitched as your voice filled with sorrow.

“You know love,” he thumbed your cheek weakly. “You know kisses. That’s the most important part.”

“No-” It felt like the only word you knew, and you put all your wishing power into it. “No, no, I only kiss people I love, remember? Remember you told me that?” Maybe if he remembers he’ll live, he’ll live if he keeps talking.

Billy merely smiled, looking more tired than you’d ever seen him. He ran his fingers through your hair, his favorite place. You laid your head down on his shoulder so it was easier for him. His voice was soft. “I know. ‘n you know too.”

Breaths quickening, you grasped for something, anything. You longed to hear his roughened lips wrapped around your name. Then you felt his hand stiffen in your hair. And that was when you knew. 

You couldn’t look up. You didn’t want to. He couldn’t have gone, he was just resting. He had looked so tired…

But you could no longer hear that steady thump of his heart.

Lifting your head, you ran your hand over his chest, feeling a little bump in his shirt pocket. Brow furrowing, you reached in, pulling out a familiar little blue shell. Lower lip wobbling, you couldn’t hold yourself back as the sight of it sent you into hysterics.

Shaking, you sobbed helplessly, fisting his shirt and willing him to open his eyes. Your tears fell now, atop his chest and his wound, but it hardly mattered. 

Now you truly had nothing. This was your first real taste of human life; crying bare and bleeding beside the body of the love of your life.

No map could guide you to the treasure you’d just lost. No pearls or gold could replace what you’d had before. What kind of torture was it for humans, falling in love only to lose it?

You laid there for a long time. Nobody disturbed you. You didn’t know where the crew or Pat or Jesse had gone and you didn’t care. The cowards had likely fled, not wanting to be caught on a ship with a body.

Eyes squeezed shut, head on his body, you pleaded with higher powers. “Please…please let him wake up…I’ll never sing again…I’ll leave the water forever…just let him live…please…”

Every second without him opened a new chasm of pain for you. Love still existed after its source was gone, and it frustrated you more than you could ever say. You tried to go numb, but it didn’t work.

Slowly, you resigned yourself to the fact that you’d have to get up and walk away, without him holding your hand to keep you steady. Lighter sobs escaped you, all the fight taken out. 

It was time to let go. Billy had kept his promise, and now it was your turn.

Pulling your hand over his chest for a final goodbye, your fingers halted at the spot where he’d been injured. It was smooth.

Your head shot up, eyes gaping as you inspected him. While blood still stained his shirt, the wound was closed. Brow furrowing, you slid your hand to his neck, touching the skin there. Warm.

It was impossible.

Leaning your head down to his chest, you pressed your head against it, listening for a sign, a flutter, anything. 

The steady thump of his heart met your ear. And now you felt his hand lift, resting in that familiar spot in your hair. Lips touched your hairline.

Your tears on his chest…you’d thought their power was gone…

Slowly, you looked up, praying it was real. That crooked smile met your stare, ocean blue eyes warm as he gazed at you. The hand in your hair stroked it lightly. Lips parting, a single word fell from them. 

“Angel.”

The sun was in the east, pouring the last rays of light down on the earth before it said its final goodnight. Salt tousled the air and the steady sound of the water hummed in the background.

You were lying stretched out in the sand, on the border between ocean and land, hair loose and tangled with the grainy substance. One of your legs bent slightly as the waves kissed your body lazily. Fiddling with the necklace of shells resting on your collarbone, you squinted up at the sky, waiting for the first glimpse of stars. They were one of your favorite parts about living above the water.

A shadow fell over your body, and you smiled fondly, reaching up for him. Billy knelt beside you, taking your outstretched hands and pulling you into a sitting position. He nosed one, two, now three kisses into your hair, wrapping his arms around you contentedly. “Hi, baby.”

Nuzzling your head into his chest, you breathed in softly. “Hi.” His heart beat against your ear, and you nodded, as if you’d been checking for the very sound.

Billy ran his fingers through your strands, causing sand to fall from it. He kissed your brow. “How’re ya feelin’?”

“Good,” you answered honestly, one hand fisting his linen shirt. “Really good.”

He rested his chin on your head. “I didn’t overwhelm you? Scare you?”

“No,” you breathed, resting in the crook of his neck and pressing a little kiss there. “It was wonderful.”

There was quiet for a moment, and the two of you sat freely, listening to the sounds of the water. Then he squeezed his arms around you. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to. Since you’re-”

Knowing what he was about to say, you cut him off. “No. I’m human now, remember?”

“Agree to disagree, sweetheart.” Billy traced your chin with his finger. “Your tears saved my life. You’re all mermaid through ‘n through.”

His words made you smile, and you let it go. Any mention of that day and you went soft. 

He’d given you freedom. You’d kept him alive. And you loved each other. It was more than a fair trade. A deal sealed in gentle kisses rather than a handshake.

Wanting to kiss him again, you looked up. He met your need immediately, nudging his nose against you afterward. You rubbed his cheek. “Do humans do that a lot?” Referring to your previous activities, you watched him with wide, innocent eyes.

Billy nodded, his hands on your hips, stroking you gently. “Yeah, honey. Whenever they feel like lovin’ on each other. Or when they wanna make babies.”

“I can’t do that part,” you mumbled, and he squeezed your sides softly. When mermaids grew legs, their reproductive organs were rendered useless.

“That’s okay,” Billy reassured you. “We’ll just do it for lovin’ then.”

That went straight to your heart, and you nodded, hand coming up to play with his necklace. A little blue shell on a string. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel,” he whispered into your hair. You never got tired of hearing it. He never got tired of saying it.

The sunset painted the sky brilliant colors reflecting in the water. Made all the more wonderful by Billy kissing you as gently as the waves did the sand. You snuggled close as the night’s chill fell over the earth.

Mermaid and human, halves from different worlds as one.

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