#and you notice the birds are singing louder

[thebestsetter]

Would you fall in love with me again?

• Synopsis: he knew football changed him. That's why he couldn't help but be scared. Would you still love him the same?

• Characters: Kunigami Rensuke (post Wild Card), Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser

• TW: Kaiser had an episode, the f word like one time

• A/N: EPIC consumed my mind.

𝕂𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕚 ℝ𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

He was different.

That was the first thing you noticed when Kunigami Rensuke, your boyfriend, knocked at your door on a random wednesday after disappearing for 7 months to go to some "Blue Lock" project.

"Is it really you?" You asked, voice dripping with doubt and love at the same time. Your knuckles were white from how strong your hold on the door was "Or am I dreaming once again?"

"I am not the man you feel in love with" he said, his deep voice wavering, not even giving you a proper 'Hello, how are you?' after so long "I am not your calm and gentle boyfriend. I've changed. For good"

You stayed silent, though it was not by choice. You were just so, so overwhelmed by emotions that it seemed like you had forgotten how to speak. Your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth, and your eyes were wide, unmoving, despite the tears threatning to spill from them, almost as if if you blinked, Kunigami, your house and everything else around you would disappear, and this would be nothing more than one of the countless dreams you had with him.

"Kuni" you started, getting closer. Your hand perfectly cupped his cheeks, as if it was meant to be there, and he instantly leaned in, almost like it was second nature. You caressed the dark circles under his eyes, and you were sure you had similar ones from the nights spent locked in your room, crying and missing him "What kind of things did you do?"

"I gave up on my hero ideology" he lifted one of his hands and put it right above yours, still on his cheeks "As I destroyed friends and teammates like they were objects I could use" he closed his eyes, basking in your warmth. Gently, he kissed the inner part of your wrist and sighed in relief, almost as if he was still convincing himself that you were, indeed, very real "And I am not the love you once knew"

The tears that were in your eyes finally fell. You could feel his hands trembling - if you were feeling scared, he was terrified. Terrified that you would reject him. Terrified to be cast away from your life. Terrified of who he became.

"Well, if that's true" you swallowed hard, blinking as more tears kept coming "Could you do me a favour? Just a moment of labour, I swear. Could you please pick up that flower over there?" You pointed to a Baby's breath, neatly arranged at the floor, beside the door "I think it's whitering. Could you carry it over? Take it far away from here, please"

Rensuke eyes suddenly shot opened, his own tears starting to appear

"How could you say this?" His voice got patheticay loud, and he despised himself for crying in front of you, but it couldn't be helped. What you asked him was ridiculous "I helped you plant that baby's breath on our first date. It's a simbol of everlasting love - our everlasting love." His voice grew louder, more desperate, like he was talking to someone kilometers away from him "I can't do that, you know it. The only way to move it is to cut it from it's roots."

You couldn't help but smile. You grabbed his free hand with your own one, looking directly at his eyes. It was like the world around you both had stopped, and even the birds' singing and cars noises ceased. You could only hear Kunigami's frantic breath in contrast to your calm one.

"Well, only my boyfriend knew when that flower was planted" you smiled, getting closer to him. You rested your forehead in his, closing your eyes. He followed your actions, sighing "So I guess that makes him you"

You pointed to his chest, right where his heart should be

"Don't tell me you're not the same person. It's still you, right here. And you know I've been waiting for you"

He opened his eyes, staring right at yours as both of you cried, ugly sobs coming from your mouths.

He was still your boyfriend, after all. Your lovely, amazing boyfriend who you loved so much it hurt.

And when he finally kissed you after months, trying to convey a love so raw and genuine through his actions, everything seemed to fall back into place again.

𝕊𝕒𝕖 𝕀𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕙𝕚

5 years.

That's how long you waited for Sae Itoshi to come back from Spain. To come back to Japan. To come back to you.

5 years of rejecting suitors. 5 years of dreaming of him every night. 5 years of suffering, yearning for your boyfriend who was all the way across the globe.

That's why, when he finally comes home looking even worse than you, you were not surprised.

"Are my eyes decieving me?" You smiled lightly, your nose already feeling stuffed - you knew you were about to cry

He muttered your name dreamily, staring at you intensely.

He's not sure how, but he managed to find the strength to smile your way. God, how long has it been since the last time he smiled? And yet, just by being next to you, he felt his lips stretching up.

Something was strange, though. You knew him. You knew Sae Itoshi, the boy who dreamed big and who you fell in love with. You knew him.

"Your eyes look tired" you frowned, getting closer and closer until your your knees were practically touching"Your smile's torn. You're different, Sae"

His smile fell, and you almost regretted what you had said. He grabbed your hands and caressed them with his thumbs, avoiding your gaze - something uncharacteristic of him

"Would you fall in love with me again?" He asked, sighing. His eyes finally met your gaze, and you could see the sadness in them - almost as if he was a young Atlas, carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. You wish you could help somehow, ease his burden, but it was clear you couldn't "If you knew all I've done. The things I can not change."

His eyes sparkled, and Sae Itoshi never cried, but you swore you saw them getting a bit glossy. You didn't know what he was talking about, but he clearly had a fight with someone - probably a teammate or something.

"And I know you've been waiting for me" Sae continued, not giving you a chance to answer "But I am not the love you knew before. I am not the man you adored. I'm no longer him" he let go of your hands, staring right at you like he could read your soul - even though you knew if he could, he wouldn't understand a single thing. You weren't understanding your own thoughts. How could he?

"So tell me, Amor" he said, his spanish pronunciation way better than you remembered it to be "Would you fall in love with me again?"

A gentle silence settled between you, which was strange. You've dreamed for so long about what you'd say to him once you saw him again, and yet when you saw him you were completely at a loss of words.

Sae took your silence as an answer. He began to walk away, head hung low and hands on his pockets.

He knew this would happen. He knew it. He was not that Sae Itoshi. He was not even human. He was a machine, made for playing soccer. He knew you wouldn't accept him.

He knew it. Yet it didn't hurt any less when he grabbed his travel bag and started distancing himself from you

"I..." he heard you saying, and even though he tried not to, he stopped. He needed to hear your answer. His brain and heart needed closure.

He could practically hear the gears on your head turning, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings

"I will fall in love with you over and over again" you answered, voice steady "Doesn't matter how long it's been, Sae, I will always love you. I've waited for you. And I will always wait for you. You're mine, Sae. And I'm yours. That's something no amount of time or distance is ever going to change"

A gentle silence settled between you both once again, as you stared at eachother's eyes. The 10 meters that separated you both suddenly felt like 10 kilometers.

The snow felt like quicksand while Sae made his way to you, first taking hesitant steps, and then almost running to get to you.

And when he hugged you and you fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder, you knew you'd be alright.

You were not going to give up on each other. No matter how hard things were.

You both then kissed each other, sealing that silent promise.

𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕣

Kaiser has always been a hard person to deal with, but he's been way worse after the Neo Egoist League.

He was screaming at the smallest inconveniences, spent days without even sparing you a glance, trained till he passed out from exhaustion and was making even more snarky remarks, if it was even possible. He was not fine, and you knew that. You knew him.

Your suspicions were confirmed during one of his episodes.

Kaiser usually had some episodes while remembering his childhood trauma, and he always confided in you to help him overcome them.

You were proud of this arrangement, actually: trust has always been what held your relationship together.

That's why you couldn't make sense as to why he was hiding from you during one of the worsts - if not the worst - episodes you've ever seen him had.

"Micha?" You asked, finding him curled up in the corner of your shared closet "Are you okay?"

"Don't come near me" He whispered. His eyes were red from crying, and you could swear you saw a purple bruise on his neck. Why didn't he call you?

"Okay" your voice was gentle, as if you were soothing a kid "Okay. I won't come closer. But I'm right here. Just focus on my breath, my love. Can you follow it for me, please?" You began breathing louder, hoping he'd follow your lead

Sadly, he began shaking his head, breathing growing even more frantic

"I-I can't" he muttered, shaking like a leaf

"Of course you can" you whispered "C'mon, breath in" you breathed in and held for a while "breath out" you repeated. Finally, he followed your commands

Luckily, after a while, his breath began to come back to normal, and you pondered just what was going through his head to make him act like that.

"Can I come closer now?" You asked, voice still gentle. When he nodded, you wasted no time in sitting right next to him, still not touching his body

Silence was loud between you too, and you wondered if he was even going to speak something about it

"W..." he began, voice breaking. He then took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say "Would you fall in love with me again... if I lost all I had?" He asked. He gave you no time to think begore he continued "Would you have fallen in love with me if I was just a little kid with a fucked up, drunk dad? If I had no money, name or fame?" He looked at you, staring at your eyes like he would forget them the moment he looked elsewhere "Would you?"

Once again, silence enveloped the room.

"Forget it" he muttered, starting to get up "It was a stupid question"

He was almost standing when you put your hands on his knee, earning a confused "huh?" from him.

Just like he did earlier, you took a deep breath

"Michael, I don't care how, where, or when. You're mine. I love you for you. I don't care for your name, your value or your football abilities. I don't want to see Michael Kaiser, the emperor. I want to see Michael Kaiser, my boyfriend." You also got up, slowly reaching for his hands, like you were asking for permission. "I love you, Kaiser"

He tried really hard not to cry again. You could see it. The way he contorted his face before letting the tears fall freely.

One after the other, he began crying hard. Sobbing and hiccuping and all. He would never cry in front of anyone. Others would never see this version of him. But you would.

In a swift moment, you hugged him, feeling his arms hold you stronger as his cries got louder, uglier.

Strangely, he wasn't embarrassed. He was relieved.

Relieved he could be vulnerable in front of you. Relieved he could be himself.

He couldn't hide anything from you, could he? Well, he hoped he could at least hide that ring in his socks drawer.

But not for much longer, though. After what happened, he'll wife you up was soon as possible.

But for now, only the feeling of your arms grounding him was enough.

Masterlist

[muffinlance]

The feral cat gator of a 13 year old freshly scarred Zuko being forcibly adopted by the foggy swamp tribe! Bonus points if they willfully ignore the fact he's a firebender and treat him as a very strange waterbender bending-wise

It was Earth Kingdom ships that drove the metal one onto the reefs, so when the little thing came crawling up through the marsh spitting and hissing and dressed in red, they knew it weren’t no earthbender. No matter how much mud it had tripped in, trying to find where the ground stopped sucking at its feet.

“Wow-ee,” said Old Earl, “that sure is one way of keepin’ off the ‘squito-chiggers.”

And they all watched from Big Earl’s porch, sitting or rocking, as them bugs came for the all-you-can-eat and ended up on the bar-b-que.

“Sure is some weird bending,” said Little Earl, who was taller than Big Earl, but when they'd been twelve and they’d wrestled for the title it hadn't been Little Earl who’d won.

The little thing looked maybe twelve, too. And he was little little. But he had that same look like he was going to shove someone’s face in the mud until they said otherwise, as he stood there all panting and dripping and just realizing they’d been watching him this whole time.

“It’s firebending,” the one-kid mud-wrestler said, as bugs kept pop-snapping into flames around him.

Old Earl cupped a hand over his ear, like he couldn’t hear. And he kept doing it, while the kid got louder and louder about that bending of his, but quieter and quieter about looking at them like they were his next bugs.

“Oh, firebending,” Old Earl said, nodding like he’d only just got it, when the kid had stomped straight up to his chair. “Right, right, Old Jane’s got fire-water-bending, too. Why don’t you take him to her, boys.”

“It’s not-- ugh,” shouted the kid, but maybe he only had the one volume. Certainly only had the one volume for stomping, even though stomping was what got a fellow’s shoes shoved down so deep in the mud they’d be seeing them again as mole-shrimp hats. Not that the kid had shoes. Neither did Earl, Earl, or Earl. ‘Cept for Fancy Earl, but he’d gone off to Ba-Singing-Se, to be fancy.

Anyway, Old Jane was the best at turning anything and everything into fire water, which was the kind of thing a fellow called his or her liquor when they wanted fancy folk to keep right on walking. Was really good for making shouty little firebrands take their naps, too, which let Old Jane get her glowing mitts all over that fresh burn of his. And the love-bites from the shark-wrasses that had probably been half the reason the kid had come a-shore all a-shouting in the first place.

“Nope,” diagnosed Old Jane, when the kid woke back up. “That’s just how he talks. Mother was a screamer-bird, I’d say.”

“You take that back about my mother,” screamed their screamer-bird, who had pretty good hearing for someone who’s ear had lost the same fight as his eye. Anyway, Old Jane had done the best she could about both, and nothing was on fire that shouldn’t be, and she had that extra quilt she’d been working on that needed a body under it

And the waves and the shark-wrasses had all the rest of the kid’s crew

So sure enough they set their little screamer-bird up with a nest and let him cry loud as he wanted.

Anyway, if there was one thing Earl Earl Earl and Jane knew, it was how to make a joke so good the other person didn’t even know it were a joke.

“Firebending,” their little fledgling shouted, and waved his arms around, like all that fire pointed at no one was going to get them startled off.

“A-yep,” nodded Old Earl. “That there is some fire-water-bending. Just like Old Jane.”

Old Jane wasn’t the kind of gal who showed off, but she wasn’t the kind who missed no cue, either. She swirled a lick o’ liquor out of her latest barrel and twirled it ‘round and straight into her mouth, and when she spit it out, it looked so much like the little bird’s breath-o’-fire that he didn’t even notice the spark rocks she kept on her fingers as jewelry. No one did, ‘til they’d seen the trick a few times.

The kid’s mouth hung open so low and so long, a moth-tick flew in. That was some kind of life lesson, that was. The swamp was good at sending those.

The Earth Kingdom sent troops a-stompin’ through, losing boots and scaring catigators out of their sunning spots left and right, askin’ all rumbly about those fires they’d spotted, and if anyone from that shipwreck had made it on shore, and talkin’ about how there’d be money in it for them if they made that last answer a “yes,” sounding like Fancy Earl and all his talk about commerce and living standards.

“Got a few parts of them ship people in the lagoon,” Big Earl said. “Probably still floatin’ if you want ‘em. But we better bring the shrimp-minnow nets, ‘cuase they’ll just slosh on through the turtle-sturgeon ones.”

“...No thank you,” the head stomper said, like sayin’ polite words made a fellow a polite man. He’d tracked those boots of his right up onto their porch without so much as a scuff on their mud rug. Even the kid had used the mud rug. “And the fire?”

“Oh,” said Little Earl, with a grin, “that was Old Jane.”

And she did her trick again, only less tricky, so they could see the spark rocks real good. “You boys want some fire water?” she offered. “It ain’t blinded no one who wasn’t already headed that way.”

They didn’t want any, which was grand, ‘cause she hadn’t really been offering.

When the last of them had gone stomping off back to the kind of land that let people stomp it, it took them two whole hours to lure out the catigators from under the porch. And their little screamer bird, too.

“...Why didn’t you turn me in?”

“What?” asked Old Earl, cupping his ear.

“Why—”

“What?”

“—didn’t—”

“WHAT?”

“—you—”

“Speak up, boy,” Old Earl said. “I never heard such a quiet child.”

And boy, did that set their bird back to singing.

[radioactiveparker]

https://x.com/hugetulip/status/1886984575076982982?s=46

This but make is steddie x reader 🫣🤭

An Elephant Never Forgets - Steddie X Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - Steve arrives at Eddie's trailer expecting to hang out, but finds himself spying on his two friends.

Warnings - Strong Language / Threesome / Soft to Rough / Boot Riding / Oral (M & F receiving) / Cum Eating / Perv!Steve / Sex Toys / Praise Kink / Unprotected Sex / Spit / Degradation / Cum Play / Hair Pulling

Word Count - 2.3k

A/N - This (nsfw) had my jaw on the floor oml

~~~~~

Forest Hills Trailer Park met a tapestry of luminescent rays from the setting sun as the evening shadows deepened into rich purples. The wind blew a gentle fragrance of mud and pine, bringing with it the end of summer blues and a drop in temperature. Birds chirped their little lullabies as they settled into their nests and watched nature's masterpiece paint the sky.

When Steve finally arrived at Eddie's trailer, the sun had eclipsed the horizon, kissing the earth goodnight and bidding the world farewell to its burning embers. The sun's fiery glow had melted into twilight. The hum of Steve's engine had disturbed a small finch, who had been perched on Eddie's tin roof, and it soured into the slumberous sky and back into its tree house. Regardless, Steve paid no mind as he exited his car.

The stray fallen leaves crunched beneath his boots as he headed towards the front door, when he paused abruptly. Funny. Eddie had asked Steve to hang out after he had finished his shift at Scoops Ahoy, and yet, all the lights were off- there was no offensive music, no obnoxious singing, no unsavoury movie on the TV. Surely Eddie hadn't forgotten.

Steve tried his luck knocking on the door.

No answer.

He tried again a little louder.

Nothing.

Eddie's van was still in the driveway so he wasn't at band practice. Steve held a grip on the cool metal handle and pushed downward. With a gentle click, it opened. He treaded lightly through the trailer, starting with the living room to see if Eddie had fallen asleep on the couch. With no luck, he steered towards the hall where he noticed a faint golden glow from a crack in the door of Eddie's bedroom. The closer he approached, he could hear a faint buzzing getting louder and louder and the lewd sounds of slurping and the clicking of a wet tongue.

Out of curiosity, Steve approached the door and peaked through the crack, pushing against it only enough to see through and not cause it to creak. Steve's jaw hit the floor at the sight.

Eddie was positioned on the edge of the bed and had you sitting before him, head nestled snuggly on his lap as he softly raked his fingers through your hair. It seemed innocent enough, only you were suckling gently on the tip of Eddies cock, bright red and leaking its pearly juices into your eager mouth. And while that was shockingly arousing to Steve, it wasn't what had his eyes bulging from their sockets.

Unlike Eddie, who had his jeans hanging low on his hips, you were completely naked, your beautiful backside on full display for him. Your hands had been handcuffed behind your back, and your hips rolled gingerly along the leather of Eddies boot. And it wasn't until he heard you moan softly around Eddie's cock that he realised where the buzzing sound was coming from. A vibrator was strapped firmly in place around Eddie's shin, set to the lowest vibration. And as your clit swiped along it with each delicate rock of your hips, the dildo strapped vertically to the toe-cap of his boot prodded deeper inside of you. He could see the perspiration glistening on your skin. Who knows how long you had been going at it.

Steve could feel his loins burning at the sight. He knew it was wrong to be watching such an intimate moment between the two of you. He knew he was being a disgusting perv, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was addicting. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to replace that dildo with the full length of his aching cock. And this wasn't the first time he had thought about you this way, or Eddie for that matter. He had had the privilege of your companies for experimentation before. But never the two of you together at once. 

The concept had his hand reaching for the bulge in his jeans, adjusting himself for a bit of relief. He couldn't prevent the hiss that sucked through his teeth at the gratifying sensation. But that feeling was short lived when Eddie's eyes snapped to his, catching him red handed. 

Steve half expected Eddie to stop, to cover you up and start yelling at him for being a perv and a peeping tom. Instead, he signalled Steve to enter with a quick jerk of his head. Eddie began tapping his foot gently, the dildo prodding delightfully inside of you and distracting you from the creak of the door when Steve stepped over the threshold.  

"That's it, Sweetheart, keep taking that cock." Eddie cooed at you sweetly, before locking eyes with Steve in a mischievously planned look. "You need some help riding it?"

You hummed around Eddie's tip in a delightful post orgasm delirium, your mind hazy with pleasure and a need to please him. At his question, you'd expected him to begin tapping his foot faster or increasing the angle of his foot to make it slide deeper inside of you. Instead, you gasped in shock when two hands placed themselves on your hips and began manoeuvring you up and down the length of the dildo. The sweet aromas of chocolate syrup and maraschino cherries were enough to tell you who had positioned themselves behind you.

"Steve." You moan airily, barely above a whisper, but loud enough for them both to hear.

In your pleasure, you didn't even question why he was here or where he had appeared from. All you could feel was the warmth from his soft hands as they worked you up and down. The dildo was not nearly as big as Eddie's cock, or Steve's as you recalled. It was the Goldilocks of dildos- it wasn't small enough where you felt nothing, nor was it big enough to make you cum, it was just right to keep you on the edge of euphoria. And Eddie had picked it out tonight especially, just to be a big tease, but with Steve now in the mix, the night was going to go a lot differently than he had planned.

"That's it, Honey. You're doing so good." Steve's voice softly rasped in your ear as he planted a kiss to your shoulder. 

Your tummy warmed at the praise and, despite your aching thighs, continued to move with him as he pleased. With your lips still wrapped around Eddie, you clawed blindly at Steve's shirt with your tied hands. He caught on quickly and removed his shirt, pressing his bare front to your back, causing you to melt into him.

"Please." You mumble around Eddie's tip.

"What was that, Sweetheart." He asked stroking a thumb across your forehead.

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"More." You pleaded. "I need more."

"More? Oh I see," He teased. "You want Steve's cock, don't 'cha, Sweetheart?"

You nod desperately as you licked his head back into your mouth for persuasion. Eddie shuddered in pleasure, but agreed regardless. He bent over to switch the vibrator off, causing you to whine at the loss. He took you by the arm and helped you onto the bed. You lay on your back, hands trapped beneath your own body weight as the two of them stood before you and admired you in all of your glory. They ogled at the perked nipples on your breasts and the glistening juices on your pussy. You sighed in desperation, yearning for them to do something other than burn your image into their brains.

Steve made the first move. He reached for his belt and removed his jeans, giving himself a few tugs to spark more life into his impressive length. You bit your lip at the sight and your pussy drooled for him hungrily. He gave you no warning as he plunged himself in one fell swoop until his hips snapped harshly against yours. He held himself there, groaning loudly and absorbing the utter ecstasy that the walls of your cunt flowed through him. You gasped as he jerked his pelvis, pulling his drenched cock out until just the tip remained before repeating. His thrusts were slow yet fulfilling and his hand cupped your hips delicately to hold you in place. You whimpered with the stretch, pussy dripping to accommodate him.  

You had barely noticed that Eddie had gotten himself undressed until he began stroking himself at the sight of you and Steve. Greedily, he swooped down to trail kisses across your tender breasts and down your stomach until he reached the place where you and Steve connected. His tongued lapped at your pulsing clit making you moan his name louder. He allowed himself to drool all over the two of you, making Steve's cock glide in and out of you effortlessly. Steve grunted at the sensation of the tip of Eddie's tongue licking along his shaft with every drag of his hips. He threaded a hand into Eddie's hair, holding him in place as he slipped out of you and shoved himself into Eddie's throat. Eddie moaned at the taste of your sweet elixir. Steve's groans grew louder and louder and he swapped between your tight cunt and Eddie's eager mouth with every thrust. 

It wasn't long before his hips stuttered and whimpers of your's and Eddie's name flew from between his lips. He tried desperately to continue alternating between you and Eddie as thick white ropes spurted from the throbbing tip of his solid cock. His cum painted Eddies face and dripped from your pussy. Eddie swiped it from his cheek, collecting it on his fingers before forcing them into your mouth. You sucked his digits gladly, savouring Steve's taste.

Whilst Eddie was enjoying the view, he had waited long enough for his turn. He ripped his fingers from your mouth and used his brute strength to flip you on your front. You face smothered into the pillow as Eddie lined himself up behind you. His cock slid in embarrassingly easily. He tested a few slow thrusts before he was pounding into you wildly. Steve gripped you by the hair, pulling your face from the pillows that were muffling your moans. Your wails of pleasure were suffocated by Steve's tongue as he kissed you as sloppy as your pussy was. 

Eddie collected your wrists in his hands, using them as leverage for every plough. They dug into your back, causing it to arch at an unnaturally deep angle. You knew you would be sore tomorrow, but the angle had Eddie hitting impossibly deep inside of you and you cried against Steve's lips. You whimpered when he stopped kissing you, removing himself from you for only a few seconds before you could hear a gentle buzzing.

A scream of pleasure escaped your lips when Steve pressed the vibrator to your sensitive clit and cranked up the power. Somehow, Eddie managed to fuck his cock into you harder. The pleasure had tears springing in your eyes and warmth spreading in your abdomen.

You tried to warn him, but it was impossible for you to scream anything that wasn't either of their names. Suddenly, white hot pleasure seared through your entire being, rendering you completely useless. Eddie gripped the fat of your hips to keep you positioned how he liked, his hips never faltering as your pussy clenched and leaked around his girthy length.

"That's it, atta girl." Eddie praised with a growl. "Such a fucking whore for us, aren't 'cha Sweetheart."

"Ahh." You sobbed at a pleasurable thrust, giving him the answer he needed.

The constant snap of his hips and the hum of the vibrator on your quivering clit gave you no opportunity to come down from your high, and instead prolonged it torturously. Eddie's stamina gradually began to wear out as he gasped for breath and his hips lost their rhythm. With a final thrust, the sheathed his entire length into the warmth of your cunt. His cock pulsed with every thick rope of cum that shot into your womb. You sighed at the sensation, your walls throbbing and milking his length of every last drop.

He nudged Steve. "Watch this."

The two of them gathered in front of your ruined pussy as Eddie pulled his softening length from deep within you. They watched in awe as a never ending flow of their cum leaked from your hole. Steve couldn't help himself as he licked a stripe upwards from your clit, collecting Eddie's cum on his tongue before violently spitting it back into your gaping pussy. 

"Don't want it to go to waste." Steve shrugged inappropriately casual for what he had just done.

Eddie chuckled and then, upon noticing more cum leaking down your thighs, licked it up until it pooled in his mouth. He grabbed Steve's perfect hair forced him on his knees. He held his chin, forcing his mouth open before dribbling a mix of cum and spit into Steve's willing mouth. However, before he could swallow, he forced his tongue into his mouth for a sloppy kiss that had the glorious mixture smearing everywhere.

You whimpered, catching their attention. You could hear the salacious wet sounds of kissing and found yourself feeling left out. Eddie and Steve shared a knowing look.

Eddie gripped onto your hair as he had Steve's and pulled you up enough for him to tower over you and bring his lips to yours. You moaned around his tongue before you felt a second one prodding the corner of your mouth. The two of them licked into your mouth in a three way kiss that took your breath away. They kissed you until you were sure that your lips would be chapped in the morning. 

The two of them released you, letting you fall into the bed in exhaustion. 

"So, you wanna hang out?" Eddie smirked. Afterall, he would never forget making plans with Steve.

[daycourtofficial]

Wingspan Matters

Summary: based on this request, you, Nesta, and Feyre catch your mates in a pissing contest over their wingspans

Author’s note: silly little crack hehe

Word count: ~1k

You poured yourself another cup of tea as Feyre and Nesta began squabbling over something you really couldn’t bring yourself to care about. You looked out the window, taking in the nice spring weather. A light breeze was flowing through the trees, causing the branches to move in a dance to the wind’s patterns.

You watch as the birds flit by, their song a lament to the end of winter, as if they too were sending their thanks to the Mother for spring to return. It’s the first warm day in months, the first day that your forearms won’t get cold being exposed to the air.

The life around you seems to dance and sing at the joyous return of spring - insects buzz past the windows, their high pitched frequencies a delight to your ears. You don’t let yourself think for too long about how the resurrection of spring will cause Cassian to snore even louder than before.

Perhaps you and Azriel can plan an escape to the Summer Court for a few weeks. Hopefully the distance and the crashing of waves will be enough to block out Cassian’s loud snoring.

You get lost in a daydream of laying on the beach with Azriel, either in the sand or in hammocks, applying a protective balm to his wings. The sun is warm on your skin, the salty spray of the ocean in your hair.

Muffled shouting disturbs both your daydream and whatever quarrel Nesta and Feyre were in the middle of. The three of you open the doors to the balcony, leaning over the railing to find your mates in a circle in a clearing on the property, their tan skin and large, dark wings making them stand out amidst the greenery that surrounds them. 

Azriel was standing to the side, looking incredibly smug with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches his two brothers. Cassian has a piece of ribbon that he was holding up to Rhysand’s back. The two kept bickering, over what you couldn’t discern.

Before any of you could question what the two were discussing, Rhysand took the ribbon from Cassian and pushed him off. Cassian landed on the ground, but immediately sprung back up, his hands coming up and shoving Rhysand off the rock he was perched on.

“Looks like the bats are finally measuring themselves,” Nesta muses, bringing her cup to her lips.

You could hear Rhys’s laugh from the balcony as he sprung up, keeping low to the ground as he charged at Cassian, his shoulder hitting Cassian’s hips. He pushed Cassian into the ground, causing Cassian to push his weight upwards so the two of them begin rolling around on the ground, punches and curses being shared to and fro. 

Feyre chuckles, “it seems Azriel’s already won.”

Nesta peers back to you over her cup, “I don’t think it’s just Azriel that’s won.”

“Don’t draw yourself up too short, Nes. I think Cassian’s in second place.”

Nesta looks back at you, eyes roaming up and down your frame, “I’m more surprised he hasn’t broken you in half yet.”

Feyre laughs as you reply, “you’d be more surprised if you saw some of the things we do.”

You waggle your eyebrows at Nesta as Feyre continues laughing, but Nesta’s not quick enough to hide her smirk without your notice.

“How long do we wait until we have them measure Feyre’s wings?” you ask.

Feyre thinks for a moment, hand on her chin, “maybe when Azriel gets a little too cocky.”

“Or Rhysand gets too pouty,” Nesta adds.

From across the courtyard, you could see Azriel’s amused smirk as his eyes met yours, a light tug on the bond urging you to keep your gaze on him. You smile, pulling back softly. He raises his eyebrows up and down a few times, and you send some amusement down the bond as you roll your eyes at him.

He stretches his wings out at your attention, making them as large as he can. You’re pretty certain you’ve seen birds do similar things in mating rituals, but the unfortunate thing is seems to actually be working on you.

He looks over to his brothers, still rolling around in the dirt, and gently takes off for a short flight up to the balcony the three of you are on. He lands softly in front of you, his wings creating a small wind, his chest glowing in the sunlight as his hands reach for you, pulling you into him by your hips.

You melt into him, arms going around his waist, your head resting over his heart as he supports your weight with the railing behind him. The warmth from his skin is soothing without being overbearingly hot.

“They make me want to gag,” Nesta tells Feyre, and you move your head so you can see the two pairs of eyes looking back to the two of you. Azriel wraps his wings around you, making you nearly impossible to see if it weren’t for your feet. You can hear the smile on Nesta’s face at her words, though.

You weasel an opening between Azriel’s arms so you can make eye contact with Nesta as you tell her, “he makes me gag too,” as you make an obscene gesture with your hand.

Nesta’s face immediately goes into her hands while Feyre chuckles, but her laughs are drowned out by the male in front of you, his laugh rumbling in his chest beneath your ear.

He peers down at you, one eyebrow raised in question. You nod slightly, and the two of you vanish into his shadows, leaving Feyre and Nesta to watch their mates continue to fight in the dirt, forgetting who really won the competition.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Will, the harpies don’t touch Apollo kids.”

Will scowls, crossing his arms. “I have no idea who started that rumour.”

Nico raises his eyebrows. “It’s not true?”

Instead of responding, Will lifts the edge of his shirt, cocking his hip slightly so it’s easier to see the skin in the low light. Nico leans in closer, squinting, tracing cold fingers over the raised white scar. Will shivers.

“That’s harpy alright.” He whistles. “They got you good.”

“I was nine years old and mislead,” Will grumbles, pulling his shirt back down. He catches Nico’s hand in the process. “Cecil said we would be fine. Cecil is a liar and a fraud.”

“Hermes kids often are.”

Nico could be a Hermes kid, honestly. Beyond the insane poker ability, there’s a…bend, to his smile, something knowing and quick and crooked, as fleeting as the flash of his sharp canines and absolutely impossible to miss. Will swallows, a couple times, fighting the dryness of his throat that pops up like clockwork at the turn of that teasing grin, at the gold in his river-mud black eyes. Nico smiles like he’s about to sell you back what he stole for ten times the price, and Will falls for the scam every time.

“Well, it was — whatever.”

He can’t quite find his train of thought, flexing his newly damp palms, shrugging at the itch at the back of his neck. Nico’s grin flashes again like he knows it’s there, like he can see the neurons crashing into each other in Will’s head, like he can hear the pounding of his heart.

“Eloquent.”

“Shut up.”

He snorts, rocking back on his heels, turning his gaze out to the common. The braziers burn low, sprites of flame crackling up to the heaven, winking back at the tittering stars. Wind hums gently through the silver poplar trees outside Cabin 13, and cicadas and fireflies sing lowly back, swelling and crashing in sync with far-off waves. If it weren’t for regular screeches of angry bird-women, it would be beautiful. Breathtaking.

Will’s not nine anymore. Apollo kids may not have immunity, but he’s fast. Uncommonly so. Realistically, he can make the sprint from Nico’s cabin to his long before the harpies notice, let alone descend in a wrath of feathers and fury.

And yet.

“I haven’t seen a harpy devour someone in ages,” Nico muses. “I bet they’re pretty hungry.”

Will scowls. “Oh, shut up.”

Nico grins wider. “Bet they’re chomping at the bit for a real meal of the delicious golden boy flesh they tasted so long ago.”

“I hate you.”

“Bet they’re watching you. Waiting.” He wiggles his fingers, hiking up his shoulders and twisting his face. “Wi-ill, Wi-ill, come out come out, come break curfew —”

He laughs when Will shoves him, cackling louder than the she-demons, choking on his own horrible impression of their shrieking voices. His laugher rises in the damp-humid night, dancing in the leftover campfire smoke and resting heavy on Will’s shoulders, and it is gravelly and low and Will is weak, weak, weak. Weak for the sound of it the feel of it the taste of it, curling up hot in his belly, zapping up and down his veins at the speed of sound, forcing the breath out of his lungs in an awed sort of exhale, a sigh he could not stop if he tried.

“C’mon, you weenie.” Nico wipes the tears out of his eyes and holds out his hand, flexing his fingers. “I’ll walk you home.”

There is no world in which Will doesn’t reach out and slide their fingers together, no world in which his vision doesn’t swim at the contact, his throat turn to sand, his knees to leaves and twine. Nico is freezing, like he always is, and it zips through Will so quickly he barely manages to choke down the gasp that bubbles out of him.

“You got harpy immunity, now?”

Nico grins, and this time it’s sharp on purpose, this time it’s wide and more crooked than a thief’s and sharp as the deadliest of knives, wide and cocksure and knowing, knowing, knowing.

“Don’t worry, princess. They won’t come near you.”

Will follows him across the common with a heart so cold it burns.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Soft as the Sound of Healing

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x (Hobby)Singer!Reader

Summary: Bucky carries the sound of your voice through his darkest missions and you are hiding your feelings in fear of breaking what little you have. But silence begins to break when his latest mission leaves you tending to his wounds.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: graphic injury care; mentions of blood; pain; implied PTSD; self-doubt; mild descriptions of past violence; feels; pining; switch of povs throughout because I felt like it

Author’s Note: Thank you, my dear, for sending me this sweet request! I would love for you to find comfort in it. I hope you enjoy ♡

2k Drabble challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

There are nights when the silence gets too loud.

When the pressure of his own breath feels foreign in his lungs.

When the quiet is a scream he cannot mute.

The world goes still in those moments. Still and sharp and cruel.

And yet, he closes his eyes, and you are there.

You, with your voice made of spring mornings and porcelain rain. You, humming a melody so soft it might have been a mistake, a ghost, a secret you never meant for him to hear.

But he did.

And he remembers.

And he won’t ever forget.

He remembers how it caught him off guard like light pouring under a door he didn’t realize was cracked open.

You were in the kitchen. You thought you were alone. You didn’t hear the sound of the front door creaking open or the soft press of his boots on hardwood.

You let a song slip past your lips as if it belonged somewhere safe, not out loud in the world like this. It wasn’t even a full song - just a hum, broken and mended again with every breath.

He stood in the hallway, listening, afraid to breathe.

And it stayed with him.

It stays when the blood on his hands feels too fresh. When the screaming won’t stop even when the battlefield has gone quiet. When he’s curled up on a too-small cot on some foreign floor, the weight on his chest trying to take him under.

He remembers your voice.

He plays it back in his mind like a lullaby no one wrote down. It softens his rage. It stitches the fraying ends of his sanity back together. It makes him think of home. Of you.

And he knows what it means. Knows he’s falling.

Head over heels. Heart-first.

****

The house is still.

The clock ticks.

You’re not sure what woke you.

Then, the floorboards creak.

The bathroom light spills a warm, broken line across the hall.

You hear it before you see him. The sharp hiss. Low. Pain blooming through clenched teeth.

And then he steps out of the bathroom.

Your breath catches like a bird startled in your chest.

He doesn’t notice you standing in the doorway of your bedroom. His hand is pressed against his side, a smear of something dark and awful bleeding through the fabric of his shirt. His face is contorted.

“Bucky?” you let out, hardly louder than the breath it rides on.

His head lifts. Eyes meet yours. They’re tired, bruised with too many sleepless nights and haunted things. But he softens the moment he sees you. He always does.

You move without thinking. Barefoot, breathless, reaching for the first aid kit under the sink.

Bucky lets out a sigh. “Doll-”

“Sit down,” you interrupt, the words a wound on your tongue and he sits without further protest.

You kneel before him. Hands trembling. Careful. So careful.

Because this is him. This is Bucky. And even though he is bleeding, even though he is stitched together by broken memories and frayed nerves, you are terrified of hurting him more.

The silence between you is thick. Intimate.

He watches you, eyes flicking between your fingers and your face. And you’re trying so hard to be gentle, to focus on the wound on his side, not the way his breath hitches every time your fingers brush too close to his skin.

And then it happens.

You hum.

You don’t mean to. You don’t even realize at first.

It’s the song you always sing when your hands are shaking. The one that anchors you. That soothes your panic.

You hum when you’re tired. When you’re scared. When the world is too big and you need to make it small again.

Now, with your knees digging into the floor of your shared bathroom, your fingers hovering above his broken skin, the song blooming from your mouth just like that.

Bucky’s eyes widen.

The sound leaving you is soft. Unthinking. Like breath. Like muscle memory.

He almost doesn’t recognize it. It’s softer than the first time, a little cracked, as if you’re somewhere else in your head. But it’s the same song. Your song. His song.

And it hits him in a place he didn’t know was still tender.

Something swells in his throat. Something he can’t swallow.

He watches you.

Watches the tremble in your fingers. Watches the worry carving tiny canyons into your brow. Watches your eyes snap up to meet his for a heartbeat too long.

Watches the moment you realize you’re humming - and how your lips clamp shut so fast it’s like you burned yourself.

The silence that follows is devastating.

You can’t look at him. Inhale sharply.

You pretend to focus on the gauze, the antiseptic. You pretend your hands aren’t shaking harder now.

But you feel him watching you. Feel his gaze like gravity turned personal. Like the earth has decided to spin around you now.

“Don’t stop.”

The words are soft. Thrown like pebbles into a still lake.

You glance up. Briefly. As if looking too long might actually burn you.

“I didn’t mean to-” you start, but hell, he interrupts you by existing. By being there, chest rising and falling, eyes locked onto you with something so gentle it makes your throat close.

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear that again,” he murmurs.

“What?” you breathe, blinking up at him.

“You making that sound. Singing that song.”

He shifts, winces, but doesn’t flinch away.

“When I was gone- when it got bad- I kept it in my head. Like a- like a compass. I would just sit there and think about it. About you. About how you sounded that day in the kitchen. Always hoped to hear it again, one day.”

You forget to breathe.

He isn’t looking at you as if you’re about to fall apart. He’s looking at you as if you’re real. As if you just stepped out of a dream he was terrified to wake up from.

“You were humming,” he goes on, voice rough, not quite in the moment. “Didn’t know I was home. You had your back to me and you were making dinner. Chopping something. I stood there for minutes. Just listening. And it stayed with me.”

His voice falters, and he exhales a shuddering breath. “I’ve killed people with my bare hands. Forgotten their faces by morning. But I remember that. That sound. You.”

You want to speak, but your mouth won’t shape the words.

So instead you stare at your hands. Still stained with Bucky’s blood. Still trembling. You press gauze into his side and try not to fall apart.

But it’s happening anyway.

You drop the antiseptic. Your chest hiccups with the threat of something too big to hold in. You squeeze your eyes shut hoping that will stop it from escaping, but no.

And then he sees the wetness pooling in your eyes. The tears clinging to your lashes.

You turn your face slightly as if that will hide them. As if he hasn’t been trained to spot weakness in the dark.

But this isn’t weakness.

This is you, breaking open in front of him.

And he can’t bear it.

“Hey,” he says gently. Too gently. It always astounds him how soft his voice can get with you.

He reaches for you. Cups your cheek with a blood-streaked hand. Not even thinking about the mess. Not even caring. He will wash it off of you later. His thumb brushes under your eye, collects the tear before it falls.

“What’s wrong, doll? Talk to me.”

His voice is quiet. Inviting. He doesn’t want to push. He waits, even if it hurts.

You shake your head first. Just a little. Not because nothing’s wrong. But because you don’t know how to say it. You don’t know how to hand him something this fragile without watching it shatter.

“I-” The word catches. You blink fast. Press your palm over his where it’s still warm on your cheek. “I just-” Your breath hiccups. “I get scared. When you leave.”

His face changes. It’s subtle, but you see it. See the guilt pull at the corners of his mouth. The pain behind his eyes that has nothing to do with the wound on his side.

“And I know you don’t- I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything, and I know I’m just- just your roommate, and I’m probably being stupid, but-”

You look away.

Bucky is silent. He seems to hold his breath. His brows are pulled together. His gaze is too intense for you to hold.

“I care so much it makes me feel sick sometimes,” you whisper. As if it’s a sin. It’s not. You could scream about your love for him. But telling him is something different. “And I know you don’t need that, or want that, or-”

“Hey.”

It’s just one word. But it stops you cold.

He tilts your chin back to him with gentle hands. And his eyes look at you as if you’ve hung the stars without meaning to.

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. Don’t say all those terrible things, you hear me?” he starts, voice deep. “Can’t have you thinking I don’t need that. That I don’t need you. 'Cause- god, that’s just not true. And I’m so sorry I made you doubt. I’m so sorry, darling.” It sounds as if he means it. For every mission. Every wound. Every second he’s made you wait in silence and worry for his life.

You lean into him without meaning to.

And Bucky lets you breathe there, pressed into the space between his collarbone and curve of his shoulder. His pulse is steady. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s hammering just like yours.

But he doesn’t let go. Just breathes you in as if maybe it will help his rips stop aching.

****

When he’s cleaned and bandaged and stripped of his armor for the night, you bring him one of his shirts since his was ruined.

He smells like himself again and that makes it easier to breathe.

You crawl into his bed beside him. No words. Just warmth. Just gravity.

He folds himself into the space beside you, his fingers finding yours. Slow and a little hesitant at first but turning certain. Home. His metal hand traces the lines on your palm.

“Sing to me? Please?” he whispers into the dark, into your hair. His voice is low, rough, but not uncertain.

Your chest flutters.

With a nod, you rest your head against his heart and let the melody rise from the hollow of your chest.

It’s shaky at first. But then you feel his hands on your back. Tracing circles. Pulling you closer.

And the song grows stronger. Your voice grows stronger, floating through the stillness.

He listens with his eyes closed, heart open.

You sing for the boy who forgot how to feel safe.

You sing for yourself, the girl who learned how to love in silence.

And in between the verses, the quiet says everything you will speak out loud sooner or later.

[satoruhour]

UNDERCUT

a/n: based off a tweet that said gojo would purr if u touched his undercut. listened to peace piece while writing ✶

there is something about lying on sheets that match gojo satoru’s hair, while the gentle breeze of the autumn morning filters through your blinds. there are both birds singing in the trees and butterflies in your stomach from merely having your lover close to you; it’s second nature to wake up and crave his warmth.

undercut’s getting long. we’d have to trim it soon.

and when your silence and thoughts are interrupted by someone’s morning groans and hums from the glare of the tokyo sky, a smile naturally graces your lips. even now, your hand hasn’t stopped brushing through his locks.

“good morning, my love,” the expression he gives matches yours exactly: his chest immediately feels tight when he sees you, morning breath and all, he gets giddy and tingly and wants to kiss you all over. you’re wondering why he hasn’t done it yet.

slow like the morning, slow like these words, satoru props himself up with his elbows, easily reaching for your face before you both sink into a gentle, slow kiss. it’s so sweet that you’re sure it could turn (faux) insult into ardour and you don’t even notice you need air until the both of you break away and giggle softly at your flushed faces. 

“your undercut is growing fast, y’know. we’d have to cut it soon,” the tips of your fingers run over the short strands of hair subconsciously, mouth gaping open a little when satoru closes his eyes and hums at the feeling.

“do it again.”

you laugh, “okay,” and you do, softly guiding your hands over the fuzzy hairs and gaining content sighs and soft moans from the man. gojo has to hide in your stomach, needing to be closer to you as you continue your hypnotising gesture.

“like it when your hair’s touched, huh?” the other hums yet again.

“only when my baby’s doing it.” there’s a ghost of a smile in your stomach, possibly from hearing the flutters of the butterflies in your tummy.

his embrace tightens around you when he sits up, towering over you now as the sky turns dark for a morning shower. fickle-minded weather, satoru would say, click his tongue and shake his head and you grin harder imagining it; your lovers asks why.

“nothing, just thinking.”

“of me? you better be, darling,” gojo thumbs your waist under the shirt you’re wearing, sleep still evident in his voice in the way he slurs his words — it could also be that he’s terribly, deeply in love with you and is simply high off of your presence.

and if that wasn’t the case before, it is now when he leans in again for a rougher kiss, moaning into your mouth as you continue to stroke his undercut. he can taste the sun on your mouth and the imminent rain to come all on you.

“i love you like how poets write,” satoru whispers against your lips in between kisses, and he runs hot, the back of his neck heating up from how much he adores you; it almost burns like flames licking at paper. “how the rain chases the sun.”

gojo tears a little because how the fuck would he have gotten this much love under the home of one of the most powerful clans? essentially nothing — and now he has the closest resemblance of a deity in his arms who knows exactly how many spoons of sugar he likes in his tea and how kikufuku is made from one of his rambles.

“you’re okay, i got you.” you mumble, fingers prepared at his eyes (you heard him sniffle). “i love you too.” 

gojo’s heart is full when you reply to his confession, kissing you again (favourite thing in the world) and stifling smiles as the rain makes its first fall in the serenity of your room. he thinks of declaring his love, but is certain his love would overflow later at breakfast, at reading hour, at movie night.

satoru merely settles for calling you his sweet, sweet girl in between saccharine pecks and making sure he loves you louder than that morning downfall and every other downpour that’s sure to come.

if you know me i think you’ll know i have a problem with this gojo obsession

[aayakashii]

got very depressed today and ended up writing a very self-indulgent comfort fic that now I will make everyone's problem ヽ(*´∀`)人(´∀`*)ﾉ

featuring 🫵you🫵, Peekaboo, and special guest Sagara Haru. It's fluff, tooth rotting fluff again. I am just a girl.

soft beats to feed your baby anomaly to

Your fingers tapped against your chin as you stood in the middle of the Jabberwock kitchen, eyes scanning all the pots that were scattered around the counter and shelves, way too wary to actually rummage through them with your hands.

“Baby formula… baby formula… baby formula…” you muttered repeatedly, as you read every label of every container, until your eyes stopped at an inconspicuous pot with no label.

Stepping closer, you opened the lid, and was met with a crumpled bag of baby formula stuffed inside.

“God, I would never find this if I only relied on the labels” you said, huffing, pulling the bag out and walking back to the living room.

A small bottle with boiled water was ready, on top of a small stool, right beside a crib that contained a very hungry and very impatient Peekaboo.

“Found it, Peekaboo!” you said, triumphantly, and slumped on the floor, bringing the stool closer.

“I can now make your bottle and feed you! I'm sorry it took so long, but you gotta tell your dad that his kitchen is a mess.” you rambled, as you began to scoop the baby formula and put it carefully in the bottle. Peekaboo chirped in what seemed like agreement with you.

As you quietly kept scooping small amounts of the powder, you finally relaxed, humming the tune to a song that was stuck in your head for the past week. At this, Peekaboo's ears twitched and perked up, and he waddled closer to you.

“Okay, done!” You finished shaking the bottle to mix the contents and Peekaboo immediately raised his little arms towards you.

“You want uppies?” you said, smiling as you noticed his expectant face. “Okay, let's give you uppies.”

With a groan (Peekaboo was heavier than he seemed), you picked him up and began to bring the bottle towards his mouth, until his arms patted your hand, pushing the bottle away.

“What's up, baby? I thought you were hungry” you asked, confused.

Peekaboo kept flailing his arms, pointing to the bottle and to you, clearly trying to communicate something.

“I'm sorry love, I don't know what you mean…”

His little face scrunched up, as he wiggled on your arms and booped your mouth and then the bottle.

“You want me to drink from the bottle too?!”

He shook his whole body, growling impatiently. For a moment, he stared at you, as if he was thinking about how he could convey his message in a way that you would understand. After a few seconds, he chirped his usual sounds, but tried hard to mimic the melody you were humming a few moments before.

“Oh! You want me to sing for you while I feed you?” you guessed.

His little face lit up, and he nodded fiercely.

“Okay, okay, but er… I'm not a very good singer, honey” you replied, apologetic despite his excitement.

Peekaboo growled, showing his huge sharp teeth and you knew there was no bargaining with a spoiled anomalous animal.

“Fineeee, fine! Okay, I'll sing, but you have to promise me you'll drink your bottle and not bite me, okay?” you sighed.

Peekaboo nodded happily again, chirping and extending his stubby little arms to the bottle.

As you titled the bottle to his mouth, his red, shiny eyes looked at you expectantly. You cleared your throat and began to murmur the lyrics to the song.

Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you”

Peekaboo frowned and tapped your throat, clearly ordering you to sing louder. You sighed heavily again, shaking your head in defeat, and raised your voice.

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

You began to sway gently, careful not to make Peekaboo sick with the movement.

Say, "Nighty-night" and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

The little bunny-like anomaly closed his eyes, gulping his food and peacefully enjoying the slow swaying of your body, feeling relaxed in your arms.

Stars fadin'–

You cleared your throat again, as your voice cracked trying to reach the higher tune, but Peekaboo seemed to pay no mind to how out of tune you sounded sometimes.

Stars fadin’ but I linger on, dear

Still cravin' your kiss

I'm longin' to linger 'til dawn, dear

Just saying this

The bottle was quickly emptying as you clumsily sang and danced with the small animal in your arms, and, in your concentration, you failed to notice a flash of red appearing on one of the corridors.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams, whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

You hummed the ad-lib part of the song as Peekaboo downed the last bit of the bottle, still moving slowly and carefully as he yawned in your arms.

Stars fadin' but I linger on, dear

Still cravin' your kiss

I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear

Just saying this

Your voice didn't crack this time, and you put Peekaboo against your shoulder, giving little taps against his back in order to help with his digestion – a little burp coming out of his mouth making you giggle as you sang.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you

But in your dreams, whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

As you finished the song, Peekaboo ended up fast asleep on your arms, and you kept humming and dancing, all while completely unaware of how Haru observed the scene, hidden behind one of the pillars of the living room.

The red-headed blushed furiously, his hand covering his mouth in order to hide a smile that was so big that could light up stadiums upon stadiums.

“Isn't that good, Peekaboo? We finally got you the other mom I've always wanted for you!!” he thought to himself, pumping his fist victoriously in the air, as wedding bells ringed into his mind after seeing the domestic scene unravel in front of him. He hadn't even confessed nor invited you to a single date, but after that, he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

[peachyprophets-blog]

Drowned Love - Back to the Surface

A Cyclops suffering

A/N: Here is an alternative sequel to "Drowned Love" there will be 3 chapters in total! Have fun!

Summary: after you woke up in the future, a few years have passed, the gods have not forgotten you and when a goddess discovered you in the future, she remembered all the suffering and decided to bring you to the people you really belong to. Was that a good idea?

Silence... that was all that surrounded you, the quiet ticking of a clock was still audible and a soft melody was being played on a piano. A large owl sat on a branch, eyes that knew more than you could ever know in a lifetime. You weren't sure where from, but they looked so strangely familiar. When you reached out to pet the owl, it leaned its head against your hand and a soft sound escaped its beak. And when your fingers touched the soft feathers of the owls, all the memories that were taken from you back then came flooding back. "Lady Athena," the words came out of your mouth before the ticking of the clock got louder, before everything went black and you lost consciousness.

Reader POV:

When I opened my eyes I was in the water, when I was on the surface of the water a storm was raging. The storm washed me up on an island, and as I came to I heard a quiet mumbling. When I opened my eyes, I saw a small creature standing next to me. It looked at me curiously and when I stood up, it held out a fruit to me and said "eat". I quickly realized that it was a lotus fruit, so I shook my head and looked around for real food. As I looked around I came across a cave, the Lotus Eaters were at my side when I heard a soft whimper. As I slowly approached I saw the Cyclops and I blushed. "Who's there?" the suffering Cyclops' voice rang out and the blood froze in my veins. "I am (Y/N) from Ithaca," I said quietly. "From Ithaca?" said the Cyclops. "Are you here to hurt me like Odysseus? Like your king did?" As he sobbed, the cave shook slightly. "No, I'm here because I want something to eat - I'm hungry and I'm tired," I told him. And as if he could sense that I was telling the truth, he let me in. As I sat with him by the fire, he told me his story of suffering. I felt the need to help him and as if one of the gods noticed, an idea came to me. I mixed some kind of medicine with the lotus fruit that helped ease the pain the Cyclops was feeling, and in return he gave me food and a place to sleep.

A few nights ago (Y/N) was able to leave, the Cyclops helped her build a ship. She had received a small supply from him for the journey and before she set sail he prayed for your protection so that nothing would happen to you on the way home. Poseidon, who had heard the prayer, was only relieved enough to protect the person who had taken away his son's pain. But somehow he and the other gods had forgotten their obsession with you. While (Y/N) was making her way back to Ithaca, the king had already returned home. It had been 20 years since he had won the war in Troy, but still one memory lay deep in his soul and that of Penelope. The memory of you. Telemachus heard many stories about you, your loving side, your strong mind and a heart that was bigger than anyone else's. Your love for animals and how you nursed Argos back to health when he was sick. Telemachus often prayed to the gods that you were still alive and would soon come home. Another day, Penelope was weaving on her loom a picture of you with a bird, the bird represents your freedom and she had to smile slightly to herself as she remembered how much you loved to sing with the birds. "I know you are alive, my little bird. Please come home."

-Peachyprophet

[aerynwrites]

Familiarity

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: Reader has reached their breaking point and Simon just happens to be in the right place at the right time. Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: **PLEASE READ ALL TAGS!!!** Descriptions of Suicidal thoughts, ideation, and attempted Suicide!!! Thwarted suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, this really is just a coping piece, no romance, tiny bit of fluff at the end kinda. A/N: if you are struggling with thoughts like these please reach out to somone (988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline). The anniversary of a friends passing occurred recently and I was having a harder time with it than usual. this popped into my head and wouldn't leave. I wish someone had been there for them in that moment. If you are struggling with thoughts like these please reach out to someone. there is ALWAYS someone who cares and will miss you. You are loved. You matter. And someones life won't be the same without you.

It’s cold. Colder than you were expecting it to be tonight, but maybe that would make it easier. you heard somewhere once that the cold water would shock the body and make you breathe in and then…

You shiver despite the winter jacket you wear, the only thing grounding you in this moment the paint flecking off beneath your fingers of the decrepit metal bridge, the cold seeping into your bones. The rubber soles of your boots squeak softly on the railing beneath them, the water rushing quietly a few hundred feet below. It had just rained for almost a week straight, the river is higher than normal, the current tumultuous. It would be quick.

You hope.

It’s also more lonely than you expected - as odd as that may sound. In reality you did pick this spot for a reason, not only because you drove by it often, but because it seemed desolated. Less likely for someone to roll up on you in this precarious moment. But you thought there might be birds singing or crickets chirping or…something except your own screaming thoughts and the breath catching in your throat.

Your eyes drift upwards, away from the watery tomb that lies in your future, out to your shitty car parked in the tiny gravel lot by the start of the bridge. You can see the faint white outline of the envelope you left behind sitting on the dash. You didn’t want anyone wasting resources on searching for you, so you left a note behind - and to maybe give closure to anyone who might care.

The cold air sears your lungs as you take a deep breath, knees quaking beauty you as you let it out again, lifting one foot from the railing to lean ever so slightly forward…

——

He couldn’t sleep. Again.

He’s used to that, used to the nightmares and the evil thoughts that taunt him in the early waking hours. But ever since Johnny…they’ve been worse - they never stop and they’re louder. This time he woke up in a cold sweat, Johnny’s voice echoing in his head, a scream he never really let out before he…

Simon clenches the steering wheel tighter, the leather of his gloves creaking with the strength of it.

He’s never taken this route before, but he needs to get away, needs the distraction of discovering and then trying to find his way back. Left, right, straight, left again, go through the stop sign and then…

A bridge.

One he’s never seen before, and on any other night, one he would’ve driven right past if it weren’t for the silhouette his headlights illuminate on the bridge as he turns on the road to pass it. He notices the car next, and tiny little alarm bells go off in his head. And, shamefully, a louder voice just tells him to move on this isn’t his business and he just needs to leave-

He parks his truck beside the car. Gravel crunching under his boots as he exits. His training kicks in without his approval, the part of him that has been taught to observe and gather information. It’s what makes him glance at the interior of the older model sedan, and at first there’s nothing unusual. Trash in the floorboard, mostly fast-food wrappers and…empty pharmacy bags. Articles of clothing tossed in the back seat, multiple old air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror. What strikes him as odd, however, is the handbag abandoned in the passenger seat, cellphone lying next to it, and the white envelope sitting on the dashboard addressed to ‘whom it may concern’ written in shaky script.

His feet carry him towards the bridge before he can think better of it, and the moment he sees the person standing on the railing of the bridge, he feels an almost impercebtible tug in his chest.

Familiarity.

It calls to him, an old friend. The grief, the pain, the anguish, the shame - all of it so consuming and all of it so familiar he can’t stop himself from approaching you. And as he watches your chest heave with a deep breath and your foot lift off the railing as you lean forward, that stupid tug is what makes him call out to you.

“A little cold out for a swim ain’t it?”

———

The voice shocks you, startles you so severely you can’t stop the yelp that slips from your throat as your foot slams back down on the railing, hand scrabbling for purchase against the rusty support beam. You jerk your head to the right to look at the intruder, eyes widening when they fall upon an absolute hulk of a man standing just mere feet from you. His hands are tucked casually into the pockets of his hoodie, stance easy - as if he didn’t just interrupt the most tragic moment of your life-

“What the fuck are you doing?” You practically hiss, indignation bubbling up inside you.

You can’t even manage to kill yourself without something going wrong.

The man shrugs, “Could ask you the same thing.”

He takes a step forward and you bristle, leaning away from him and further towards the water below.

“D-don’t come any closer!” You call, voice shaking despite your best efforts. “I’ll jump. You can’t…you can’t stop me.”

The man just shrugs again, pulling a small carton from the pocket of his hoodie, followed shortly by a lighter. He pulls a cigarette from the box placing it between his lips before lighting it, taking a deep drag before looking up at you again.

“Never said I was tryin’ to stop you,” he says simply, stepping closer to the railing when you don’t protest.

Confusion swims in your belly, heart thundering from the surprise but starting to calm down as the stranger finally comes close enough to lean against the railing you stand on, casting his gaze out over the inky black river.

You finally work up the courage to speak again.

“Then…why are you here?”

The man huffs out a laugh, a bitter dark sounding thing before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Couldn’t sleep, needed to clear ‘m head.”

You give a snort of your own, disbelief clogging your mind.

“And you just so happened to come across the person trying to dig her own grave,” you laugh this time, a real one. “What are the fucking odds.”

“Well,” he replies slowly. “You wouldn’t really be diggin’…swimming maybe-”

You scoff again, looking over at him in complete surprise. “You…was that supposed to be a joke?”

You swear you see his lips twitch up in a smile.

“Somethin’ like that.”

Your irritation comes back slightly as your lips tilt downwards. You want to snap at him, tell him to fuck off, to go away and just let you do this in peace - but something stops you. Fear maybe. Curiosity. you’re not sure what it is exactly but it implores you to ask -

“Nightmares?”

More paint chips away beneath your nails, falling down into the waters below, your eyes following its descent. You see the man nod in your peripheral.

“Get ‘em every night…but tonight was worse.”

It falls silent again as his words hang in the air, and neither of you say anything for a long while. You stand there still contemplating your demise and the stranger finishes his cigarette before flicking the butt of it away over the railing.

“I get it you know,” he says finally, voice softer than it has been so far, gentler.

You look at him, brows pinched in confusion, and he gestures to you then the water.

“I get it,” he reiterates, lips pinched in a thin line.

His words earn another scoff from you, and that bitter pit in your chest grows blacker. Darker.

Here we go, you think. Another good samaritan trying to tell you that you have so much to live for. Don’t do it. It will get better. Just look on the bright side.

You shake your head, looking back out over the water.

“I highly doubt it,” you say bitterly, eyes starting to burn with unshed tears that threaten to betray you.

The man shrugs and leans heavier on the railing. “Can’t doubt what you don’t know,” he trails off for a moment. “You wanna talk ‘bout it?”

You shake your head, eyes clenching shut when you feel the tears fall.

Goddammit, not now…

But before you can stop it, words come spilling from your lips, like a waterfall that never ends. All of your woes, your anger, your grief, your sadness, the demons that haunt you both awake and asleep. The perceived failures that never end, the never-ending hopelessness and seems to stretch out before you like a yawning cavern.

All of it.

And he listens.

You don’t even know how long you go on for, voice shaking, tears dripping from your chin, knees quaking beneath you as you dump all of this on some stranger who just happened upon you, until you finally stop, taking a deep shuddering breath and facing the water again.

“I just want it all to be over,” you finally whisper. “I’m so tired.”

The man nods, standing a little straighter now.

“My best friend was shot right in front of me,” he says softly, his own eyes now distant when you look at him.

“We’re military - comes with the territory. But he…” he takes a shaky breath of his own, “Johnny was different.”

A beat of silence.

“I went through all the same shit. Ended up in the same place you are,” he gestures to you, “but instead of a bridge I wanted a bullet. Got plastered, was just about to go through with it when I some how managed to get on the phone with my Captain…” he lets out a sigh that sounds so world weary you feel it in your very bones.

“He talked me down. Helped me get things back on track - as on track as they could be without Johnny.”

He looks to you then, and for the first time since he approached you tonight’s you’re able to see the color of his eyes. They’re brown - a deep dark brown that’s more expressive than you were anticipating.

You study him for a moment longer.

“Is that what you’re here to do? Talk me down?”

The man shakes his head, the movement allowing the light to illuminate the scar that runs from his eyebrow down to his upper lip. Yet another thing you missed.

“No. Don’t need to,” he says casually. “You were never going to jump.”

Indignation flares its ugly head again, but it’s quickly tempered by the confusion bubbling in your belly.

“What…how could you possibly know that? I was going to do it.”

The man shakes his head again, this time turning to face you fully.

“If you were going to do it, you would’ve done it the minute I walked up to you. Now-”

He reaches out a scarred hand, and you see the barest hint of black ink peaking out from beneath his sleeve.

“Let’s get you down from there.”

You hesitate, eyes trailing back to the water rushing beneath you before trailing back to this strange man on the bridge. You could jump, you could do it right now and he wouldn’t get to you in time.

So you turn.

And his hand is surprisingly warm, soft even. Despite the scars and calloused palms. His hand cradles yours so delicately as he helps you down from the railing, his other hand reaching out to grip your waist to ease your descent.

“That’s it.”

Shame washes over you the moment your feet touch solid ground, and the man must senses it, because a firm hand settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry-”

“None of that,” he chastises lightly, shaking his head. “Y’got nothing to be sorry for.”

You can only nod, eyes trailing slowly up from the ground to finally look at him face to face. To some people he might seem scary or intimidating - what with his tall stature and the scars on his face or even his demeanor. But to you, right now, all you can sense is solidarity - a warmth. An understanding you haven’t felt in a long time.

So, before you can really think about what you’re doing you’re leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

He seems surprised by the act, his entire body going stiff beneath your own. But just when you move to pull away, a pair of arms wraps around you in kind. The hug is longer than usual, but it would appear that both of you needed it. And when you do pull away, neither of you step much further apart.

“What’s your name?” You ask, breaking the silence that had fallen over both of you.

He thinks for a moment, as if hesitant to reveal more of himself to you than he already has.

So you extend an olive branch in the form of your own name and watch as his shoulder sag ever so slightly before he answers your question.

“Simon.”

You can only nod, and soon a silence falls over you both once again. This one a bit more tense than the others.

What do you do now? There’s no rulebook for this - not step by step; what to do when someone stops you from jumping off a bridge. There’s so much you want to say, but your thoughts are a jumbled confused mess and now you feel foolish and-

“There’s a spot up the road a ways that opens early,” Simon says, interrupting your thoughts. “I could use a bite. You in?”

The invitation startles you. It’s so casual, so…normal, in the face of what just transpired that you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips at the absurdity of it all. But then you fumble for your phone before remembering you left it in the car.

“Early? What time is it?”

Simon turns a muscled forearm over, tugging at his hoodie sleeve to peak at his watch.

“A little past four a.m.”

You suck in a breath, shock coloring your features. You got to the bridge at midnight. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed…

A gentle pat on your shoulder pulls you back to the moment as Simon turns to start walking back to the small gravel lot.

“Come on,” he says, leaving no room for refusal, “They have good pancakes. Johnny-” you watch as his steps falter slightly before he continues.

“Johnny always raved about them,” he turns back to look at you then. “My treat.”

You manage to send him another small smile, nodding.

“Can’t exactly turn down a free meal, now can I?”

Simon lets out a chuckle, so soft you might have missed it if it wasn’t so quiet out.

“You’d be the first.”

Neither of you say much on the short journey back to your parked cars. Only when you get there, Simon gives you the name of the restaurant to plug into your GPS before turning to walk to his truck.

Your car door squeaks loudly when you open it, and you slide into the drivers seat. Moving to close the door, you pause - the small white envelope catching your eye.

Reaching for it, you take it in hand and eye the shaky writing on the front. Instinctively you want to shove it in your purse, that tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that you’d need it again one day. But another voice, a new one - rough and gravelly with a Manchester accent is just a little bit louder and before you can think twice your out of the car and walking back toward the bridge.

You hear slightly hurried footsteps behind you, and you can picture Simon slightly panicked thinking your rushing back to finish the job. But you stop at the railing, white envelope crushed between your fingers as you look back out over the dark water.

The footsteps behind you stop, assessing, waiting for your next move.

So, with one last glance at the paper in your hands, you take a deep breath and rip in half. Then rip it in half again and again and again - until nothing but tiny scraps remain. The flat between your fingers like sand, falling down, down to the waters below in a manmade snowfall, the wind picking up and carrying pieces away until you can no longer see any evidence of the object at all.

You turn, and Simon is smiling - a real smile.

“Come on,” you say, walking towards him and your parked cars once again. “I want some pancakes.”

And as you both walk together, his shoulder brushing your own…You can’t help but feel just a little bit lighter.

A little less alone.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Male! idol x manager! gn! reader

WOOOH finally able to update. I got busy due to working for a summer reading camp. Woop tee doo... At least I got money for a new phone LMAO

And we finally, FINALLY finished the second set of yans! For now, no new yans will be done, and will be focusing on the boys!

Song featured: Too Sweet by Hozier

EDIT: I FORGOT THAT I MADE ELIAS THE SIBLING OF THE YAN! IDOL AND ALREADY NAMED HIM ZAYNE! I'll probably just change Zayne's to Tae-Joon.

Yan! Idol name: Raven/Tae-Joon

The deafening lights and cheers of the people in the gigantic stadium rang around the building. They kept cheering, almost shaking the whole place from their energy.

As the band started playing the intro song, the cheers suddenly amped up in intensity with the focus going back on the stage. Each and every lightstick glowed red, flooding the whole area with a scarlet hue.

The bass pumped, the music riffed, the vibe electric.

The stage fogged up, covering the whole place before the cheering got louder when a appeared in the fog.

Then, there he is.

"HOW'S IT GOING CITY OF [redacted]!"

A charismatic, boyish smile, with pearly white teeth that blinded the secret paparazzi in the crowd, with a tall and lean stature that encompasses talent and discipline in one body, and facial features that make people swoon even in just his photocards.

"RAVEN! RAVEN! RAVEN!"

The man, the idol named Raven, started to sing. His voice was smooth and low as the romantic yet also sensual lyrics pour out of his pink lips.

It can't be said I'm an early bird

It's ten o'clock before I say a word

Baby, I can never tell

How do you sleep so well?

He goes up to the edge, swinging around the mic stand as if it was a dance partner. One can hear the passion going off in his tone as his messy hair got flipped upward.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake?

Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great

But while in this world

He gets on the middle of the stage, and the pedestal raised as the spotlight went to him.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

You're too sweet for me

Everyone was seduced, everyone was mesmerized. Raven gave off seductive energy that they held their breath every time his gaze penetrates them. And some even assumed his gaze was on theirs, making them squeal.

It was truly a night for everyone in the stadium.

After almost two hours of performing, Raven, with sweat pouring out of him but still managed to look amazing, descended down on the stage hatch.

But the once shining star back in the stage suddenly threw his beret on the ground.

"FUCK! What was that buzzing sound in the dance break?!" Raven yelled. "Are you serious?! I thought we went over this!"

The people in the back started to groan inwardly. There he goes again.

"Ah... Tae-Joon..." The director said, "We made sure to reprimand the lights and sounds..."

Raven, or rather Tae-Joon off stage, clicked his tongue in anger. "Whatever. Bring me my coffee! I need a break."

"But you can just go home after the cleanup. Do you still want coffee?"

A naive voice said, obviously new to the scene as she juggle with her box of wires.

She's a big fan of Raven and pulled a lot of strings just to be there. A bit bold, she decided to be the concerned type of staff and berate him of his beverage choice.

Yet she absolutely cannot see the pale faces and the dread sticking on the visages of the people around her. She's in too deep in her tunnel vision of Raven to notice his microphone cracking. Another thing to add to the casualties.

"You... What's your name?" Raven glowered. The fan can feel her heart rate pick up as she told her name. "Oh. You're new. All i could say is..."

Raven got up to her and glared at her much smaller form "You're fired. Get out! Nobody gets to dictate what I damn drink!"

The woman was too stunned to speak as she got dragged out of the venue.

This is Raven. Or in real life, Tae-Joon. A charming man in his own right, in front of the public, he's a gentleman with a seductive touch. Talented, with a handsome visage, he's an international idol.

But in reality, he's one hell of a spoiled brat.

"I WANT MY COFFEE NOW!"

Somehow, because of his sheer dumb luck and his reputation, nobody from his staff decided to expose him for what he really is.

He's full of himself and loves to gloat about his own achievements. And one thing he makes sure to take advantage of is his looks.

He brushes his hair back, shaking off sweat (ew) yet somehow looks so ethereal as he clicked his tongue in annoyance, mesmerizing his staff.

He even went as far as to feed his delusional fans and stans.

He's that far gone.

"Where the hell is my coffee!"

"AY COFFEE!"

He's awful to everyone.

Except...

"Tsk. Tae-Joon... If I hear you yell one more time!"

Raven cowers a bit, pouting as he slithers towards his manager.

"But manager~!"

As if he's a new person, Raven clung to you. His head on your shoulder as he played with your left hand.

"I want my coffee and none of these incompetent people are giving me my coffee!" He whined like a child complaining to his parent. "Scold them for me pwease!"

The staff, used to it, sighed in relief as your deadpan look didn't tolerate Raven's rudeness. On your right hand is his coffee that you handed to him.

"Manager! Thank you so much!" His eyes wide and appreciative, he sips on it and sighs in relief. "Ah... So good... This is why I love you, manager."

Goodness. He's putty in your hands.

Tae-Joon was once a trainee. He's naturally good looking already so he's being pulled left and right by companies to be in their side. He's an uncut gem, a diamond in the rough waiting to be polished. They saw his potential and wanted a slice of his being.

The once sweet boy, hardened by the harsh training, became a gloating hardhead from the way these people fight for him. After all, he was just a quiet, ambitious guy in highschool. He wanted more, and he got it through hard work and natural charm. And now, years later, he's about to reach his dreams.

Yet once he got in the company of his choice, his demands were... Too much.

"I need to share a dorm with others? No way!"

"Ugh the mattress is too stiff."

"Seriously?! You want me to train for five hours a day?! Two hours! Just two hours!"

"What are these clothes?! These are not branded!"

"No way that I'm performing in that small stage. I don't care if I'm pre-debut, that is ass!"

"Trash beats. Next."

The company was exhausted. He's not even raking money in, yet he's too demanding for his own good.

Desperate, the company opened their doors for a babysitter manager that has a "calm and pleasing personality", "trait that can work in high stress situations", "adaptability", "great leadership skills and authoritative", and can "teach those who are under them". Aka: someone who can tame the damn bird.

That's where you came in.

You were just a fresh graduate in desperate need of a job. Nobody was hiring you since you're new, and needed more experience.

The hiring process was intense, to say the least. You had to herd rowdy children and change them to upright good kids in 10 days. You somehow did it and even got gifts from the grateful parents. Next, you had to juggle schedules and ridiculous demands. Then, you had to endure being yelled and insulted at.

Your mind, heart, and body are now made of steel from that hiring process and you're the only one who rose to the top.

"Congratulations. Here's your care. His name is Tae-Joon, stage name Raven." The head said, nervous and hopeful that you with Tae-Joon will change his attitude.

Tae-Joon raised an eyebrow and sneered. "Ugly."

You were flabbergasted. This is a supposed to be future idol?

But you can only manage a twitch on your lips.

It was hell with him. You thought the hiring process/training regimen was bad, but this was something else.

A explosive personality, he's sassy and mean to a point of wanting to face palm through your head. You had to physically reel him in at some point just because of a hater.

But unlike the others who cowered and tolerated his behavior, you were stern with his behavior and lectured him most of the time.

"You can't just yell at miss Park just because she messed up your order!"

"Get the hell up! You're going to be late to your training!"

"Who the heck do you think you are, ripping up clothes like that huh?!"

You were feisty in your own right and constantly butt heads with him.

But even then, even just with you around, he's just a growling beast cowering from your lectures as you yelled at him.

Yet, even if as you yell at him, your caring hands wiped his sweat off and gave him his water. If somebody actually messed with him, you would lecture that guy. And there are some times that you laugh at his antics and shake your head.

You treated him like an actual human with feelings, rather than a ticking time bomb.

Slowly but surely, Tae-Joon clung to you. You were his only ally in this godforsaken industry and the only one who understood him. You also didn't tolerate his personality and shaped him to be somehow decent.

And, as his manager, you cared for him like nobody did.

Your lectures became less frequent, and he had more instances to see where you smile at him proudly as he finally had his solo debut. More time to talk to him normally, and had small, intimate moments that fuels his social needs.

And as his fame skyrocket, you were always there, waving his lightstick and being his number one fan.

Understandably, he fell for you.

He started to be openly affectionate with you, constantly confessing his love to the point that management had to tell him off to stop being so open with his affection since paparazzi can take a video or picture and ruin his reputation.

He honestly doesn't care. But with you raising an eyebrow at him, he pouts and only becomes clingy in private.

He'd rather hold it in than nothing at all.

And hell be damned if someone took you away from him. Because he may be somehow tolerable now, but that's only because you're there with him.

Raven just got back from practicing for his new song, and was totally exhausted. He dragged his feet, clearly irritable especially that you weren't there with him.

The staff knew he's not in a good mood so they steer clear of his way.

"Have you seen my manager?" Raven asked a staff who only shook their head. "'kay..."

He looks so depressed that the people around him took pity on the guy as he trudged towards the head.

He passed a meeting room and he heard your voice.

"Another Tae-Joon?"

Another him? What?

He decided to listen in and he heard the managerial head clear his throat.

"Yes. Since Raven is calmer now, we think he needs to move on to another manager. You, on the other hand, will be training another... Hothead."

You held your head, feeling a headache incoming.

"No way. I'm not going through that again. I went through hell with Tae-Joon before. I'm not repeating that."

Ouch. Tae-Joon held his chest, a bit saddened by your words. Well, it was true but it didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Yet... You're not going to be his manager anymore?

Strangely, he felt the numbness creeping up his nape.

"No buts, y/n. You're going to be transfered."

"Did you ask Tae-Joon about this?"

"... Yes, Raven gave the thumbs up."

Liar. LIAR!

Tae-Joon wanted to rush in the room and shake the managerial head until he faints. He didn't give the thumbs up at all!

But he's strangely rooted in place as he heard you sigh.

"Okay. Where's this guy?"

"His name is [redacted]. He'll be here by Monday so be prepared."

When you finally finished the meeting, you went out of the room yet felt a lingering warmth by the wall.

Meanwhile, Tae-Joon rushed towards the trainee building. Eyes cold yet body tense. He wanted to see who the hell is this [redacted]. Nobody, as in nobody will be yours. Only he can be yours.

The trainees were flabbergasted as they saw Raven in the flesh, gawking at his presence and bowing in respect.

Tae-Joon didn't care. He wanted to see where this [redacted] is.

Room 5, and he bursts open through the door.

"What the hell- Raven?" The guy was slack jawed, starstruck. "I'm- I'm a big fan--"

Tae-Joon grabbed his collar and looked him in the eye. It was filled with unbridled rage yet at the same time, bone chilling coldness.

"Fix your fucking attitude." Tae-Joon warned. "Don't be over your head, worm. You better be goddamn nice or else I'll lob your head off."

[redacted] felt like it wasn't just a baseless joke, so he swallowed his saliva and nodded.

"Now. I better see you demand a transfer to the group idol department. You hear me? You aren't debuting solo." Tae-Joon tightened his grip. "Understood?"

It reached the ears of the head that Tae-Joon threatened [redacted]. But don't know what. All they know is that [redacted] pleaded to debut in a group and was suddenly meek and quiet when he transfered departments.

Yet, they somehow knew it had to do something with you, as he clung to you desperately for a week after that.

Then and there, they knew to never, ever try to separate you from him. If they don't want to let go of their greatest asset and set him off.

So, despite how dangerous Raven has become, they forced [redacted] to be quiet by... Not so savorable means.

"You're not leaving me, right?" Tae-Joon whispered, looking exhausted yet satisfied as he hugged your waist.

You, who just realized how deep Tae-Joon is in his affection, sighed and rubbed his head. "I'm not."

And it better stay that way.

[moonchild9350]

Fate Within the Depths of the Sea

Summary: Minho is saved by you, a siren, while out at sea. It seems like your fate is intertwined as you both fall in love. However, fate never seemed to work out for a pair of star crossed lovers.

Pairing: Minho x Siren gn reader

Genre: angst, smut-18+ MDNI, fantasy au

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: nudity, brief mention of blood, shapeshifting, violence, coercion, stalking, public sex, unprotected sex (don’t), mention of breeding, creampie, heartbreak, mentions of death

Notes: Week 2 of Spooktober continues, this time with a whirlwind of an emotional ride.

If you enjoyed, please like, reblog, comment as it makes my day ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"What once was had, forever lost; thy fate is destined, thy love star-crossed." -Nenia Campbell

It was a warm, sunny day, the sun beating down on you as you perched upon your favorite rock, watching the sea. There was stillness in the waters, as ships had not passed through for quite some time. It was peaceful, with only the occasional caw of the birds in the sky, leaving you to your thoughts.

You flipped your fins, the hues of blue and purple mixing with the clear water below, causing water to splash up and onto the rock and your body keeping you cool. You had nothing to do at the moment, as there were no humans in site.

Honestly, you were bored, needing the thrill and excitement of messing with humans, their awe and cooing turned to screaming and then silence, simply music to your ears.

You let out a long sigh, flipping your hair back, your chest on display. Oh how you wished a ship would pass through, so you could have some fun.

Turns out you didn’t have to wait long, as a large ship made its way through the waters, the waves picking up at the disturbance. You grew excited as the ship sailed closer. You could see tiny specks walking to and from on the deck, the crew members busy with their chores.

You jumped into the water and quickly swam over to the ship. You saw some of your clan making their way over to the ship as well, excited for the new prey.

Once at the ship, you all swam up to the surface, your heads breaking through the tension with ease. With a deep breath, you and the others began to sing an ethereal song, the notes like soft petals floating through the air as it traveled to the unsuspecting crew members.

It didn’t take long until you all were noticed, the men hurrying to lean over the railing to seek the source of the sound. Knowing that you had them, you projected your voice louder, the song thick like honey, landing on their ears.

One man in particular noticed you. His eyes glued to your form, as it floated in the deep blue sea below. He thought your face most beautiful, the water droplets slowly dripping down your face, the sun catching them causing a rainbow effect.

He thought your voice the most surreal of all, your song luring him in, making him feel as if he wanted to join you, to be near you. He wouldn’t mind to do so, feeling like he’d be the luckiest man alive.

You looked up as you sang, catching the eyes of the man above you. You faltered slightly, the note you were singing breaking off momentarily, as you looked at the beautiful sailor. You felt in a daze, not noticing that your clan had started to attack the ship, trying to get to the men on board.

You watched as sailor after sailor fell into the water, their awes turning into screams as they succumbed to their fates. You watched as the man fell into the sea, his head bobbing above water frantically as he tried to find purchase on a nearby floating piece of wood.

You panicked at his struggle and not knowing what came over you, you quickly swam over to him, grabbed him by the arm, and tried to pull him to safety.

He struggled against your hold, wanting to get away. You listened as he pled for his life, his voice laced with fear. Your heart hurt at his pleas, as you did not want to hurt the man.

After swimming aways, you finally arrived at the patch of land you were aiming for, as you had sunbathed there many times. You watched as the man’s feet touched land and scrambled away from you.

He truly was beautiful, with shaggy hair framing his face. He had dark brown eyes that were widened in terror as they looked at you or…where he thought you were.

After making sure he was safe, you quickly swam away, hiding behind a rock that was little ways off the shore. From this distance, you were free to gaze upon the man. He seemed confused, lost, as he searched for you, his rescuer. You’ve never given a second thought to your prey, content on watching their misery as the succumbed to the depths. So why did you save this man today?

You’re not sure how long you hid behind that rock, watching the man’s every move, watching as he paced back and forth, back and forth across the sand. He was probably hoping to be rescued, hoping that there was a survivor to take him to shore.

Nightfall was close, the sun casting a golden glow across the horizon, the moon making its appearance in the sky. A small boat made its way across the sea, spotting the man on the island. The man had eventually made a fire, the smoke floating high up into the sky to act as a signal. You watched as he got up and made his way to his rescuers, scrambling to board the ship.

Once aboard, the ship slowly sailed away toward the mainland, taking the mysterious man with it. You decided to follow it, to see where this man lives. It didn’t take very long to get there, as the mainland was not far off. As you watched the men exit the ship one by one, you made a decision here and there to follow the man.

You very rarely visited the mainland, preferring the sea and your natural form over the human form. However, you thought this an appropriate time to transform. You made your way out of the water, your legs slowly taking shape as you made your way further up the bank. You found a piece of cloth on the side of the bank, most likely from a ruined sail, and made a makeshift outfit so you’d look decent to walk among humankind.

While you were disguising yourself, you briefly lost sight of the man, but found him instantly as someone was chastising him. You listened closely, as the other person yelled at the man, telling him he was late and where was the rest of the crew. He kept calling the mysterious man ‘Minho’ and you figured that must be his name.

You tried saying his name, shivers running down your spine as the syllables rolled off your tongue. You said it again and again, a smile gracing your face as you fell in love with the man’s name.

You heard the man called Minho curse and watched as he stormed away, making his way further in land. You decided to follow him, curious as to what he gets up to once the sun goes down. You glided after him, your footsteps soundless as you moved with grace.

Minho moved down the crowded streets, before sneaking down an empty alleyway. He walked until he came to a run down building. Sliding a key into the lock, he let himself in the house before sliding the lock in place. He was home, safely at that.

He sat down in a chair near the fireplace and unlaced his shoes, tossing them aside. He’d need to clean the muck from the sea off of them later. As he sat, he closed his eyes reminiscing on the day. He almost met his fate, as death was looming over his head. It had taken his comrades, but somehow he escaped its clutches.

Minho remembered you, your soft, wavy hair cascading down your back. Your beautiful green eyes on an even more beautiful face. He remembers your body and ultimately your tail, the colors of your fins radiating in the midday sun. Why’d you save him? Why’d you not take him just like the others took his comrades? These were all questions that he wished he knew the answer to.

To make matters worse, no one believes him and his tale. Seungmin definitely didn’t, the man getting angry with him and chewing his head off as to why he was late for his afternoon duties. It sounds almost like a fairytale, he won’t lie. He wonders if he’ll ever see you again? Does he even want to see you again?

These were all questions that ran through his mind as he drifted off.

You peeked through the window, watching as Minho sat down and removed his shoes. He looked relieved to finally be home. His home wasn’t much and honestly looked like it could use some repair. You watched as he drifted off to sleep, his head slightly slumping over, his beautiful, long hair falling in his face, obscuring his eyes.

You were curious, wanting to know more about this man that you decided to save on a whim, and once you decided on something you stuck to it. Seeing that he will most likely be asleep the rest of the night, you made your way down alleys and back to the main street, back to your home, the sea.

You shed your makeshift dress and hid it among the rocks, not wanting it to get ruined. After, you walked into the sea, the waves wrapping around your feet lovingly, welcoming you home. You shifted back into your siren form before swimming away, leaving the mainland behind.

You planned to visit Minho once more. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Everyday since your chance encounter, you would visit the mainland taking your human form, and visit Minho. You’d watch his day to day activities, watch how he’d move lumber to and from, and load boxes onto the ships. You could tell he was strong, watching his muscles bulge as he worked long hours.

You loved watching him within his home, as he busied himself making dinner, as he lounged on the couch reading a book, as he slumbered peacefully, none the wiser to your presence.

You were falling in love with this human, the feelings causing your heart to ache in longing for their touch, their voice, for them. It wasn’t unheard of for a siren to fall in love with a human, one of your clan members having done so not too long ago. Their love didn’t work out, but you knew this would be different. You would have Minho as your lover.

One night as you gazed at Minho sleeping peacefully, you decided then and there to take things to the next step in making him yours.

The opportunity presented itself sooner rather than later, as he came to the sea shore one day. Minho gazed out to sea, his eyes glossing over as he watched the waves ripple and crash onto the beach, the sound soothing to his ears.

Minho often thought of you during his visits to the sea. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wishes he could see you again, he’d do anything to see you.

As he stood there, he noticed movement in his periphery, causing him to look to see who it was. What he saw took his breath away. A beautiful person was walking, no gliding his way, a serene smile on their face. His heart skipped a beat once, twice, as he stared at you. You seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he’s seen you before.

Today was the day you would make Minho yours, you could not fail. Once you were standing right in front of him, you smiled, as you reached out to brush the back of your hand down his cheek.

Minho held your gaze, never faltering as he leaned into your touch. You began to sing a gentle song, one you’d heard your mother sing to your father many times. Your smile widened as you saw Minho shuffle closer to you, his hand reaching up to grasp yours in his.

“Minho,” you breathed, your voice laced with love, “you will be mine.”

Minho nodded his head, surrendering himself to you. “I’m yours,” he breathed in reply.

You leaned forward, bringing your face to his, before pressing your lips to his gently. Minho relaxed further into your hold, chasing your lips as you withdrew. You smiled as you let go of his face and brought your hands to your makeshift dress, unfastening the knot you’d made to keep the dress upright.

Minho watched with bated breath as your dress dropped to the sand, your body on display for him. You seemed to glow, the outline of your body having a luminescent glow to it. His eyes roamed from your face to the swell of your breasts, to your legs. He could feel his cock start to swell, the appendage filling out within his trousers.

You reached your arms out to Minho, watching as he closed the space between you in a few steps. You were met with a kiss, his lips molding with yours, the kiss becoming more heated as Minho gently laid you down.

You watched as Minho shucked his shirt off, tossing it into the sand. In his haste to feel you, he lowered his trousers enough to free his hardened cock. You spread your legs wider so he could more easily slot himself between them.

“Can I?” Minho moaned, stroking his cock through your folds, causing your pussy to quiver.

“Of course my love,” you said, pulling the man to your chest as he pushed his cock within you, your walls welcoming his cock, wrapping snuggly around him.

Minho let out a groan as he began to thrust into you, burying his face in your neck. You cradled his head, a grin on your face. He was yours finally you thought as you moaned out in pleasure. His cock was hitting your sweet spot just right, causing you to clench around him.

You threw your head back to look at the man above you, watching the sweat drip down his face, his beautiful brown orbs dilated as he gazed down at you, love and lust present in his eyes. You grasped his arms, your nails digging into the flesh drawing blood as he brought you to your high, the hair donning his pelvis providing the extra stimulation you needed against your clit.

Minho was lost, his head a fuzzy mess as he became drunk on you. His mouth gaped open as he watched your breasts bounce with each thrust into your warm walls, your nipples peaked in the cool afternoon air. He fell more in love with you as you sighed out his name, his cock swelling even more at the sound of your voice.

He was close and all he could think of was to breed you full, make you his forever.

“Mm close,” he moaned out as he continued to thrust into you, his hips moving at a leisurely pace.

You let out a soft groan at his words. “Let go Minho,” you said, wrapping your legs around him to pull him even closer to you.

“Make me yours as I have made you mine,” you said, feeling the coil in your belly build as you stared into Minho’s eyes.

He never took his eyes from yours as he let out a deafening wail as he came, his cum flooding your walls. The feeling of being full triggered your high as you released around him, your walls spasming around his cock, milking him dry.

Minho collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck once more, as he breathed heavy. You laced your fingers within his hair, dragging them nimbly through the strands. You both laid there for what seemed like eternity as you both came down from your highs, cradled in each other’s embrace.

Finally, Minho sat up, withdrawing his softened cock from you, his release seeping out of your pussy and onto the sand below.

“Come back to my home with me,” Minho said as he fixed his trousers and put his shirt back on.

He reached for your dress and handed it to you, watching as you put it back on.

You smiled, “of course I’ll come back with you,” you said, your heart swelling at the invitation.

Minho stood up and helped you up, ever the gentleman. He took your hand and guided you through the streets, walking the well known path to his home. You feigned ignorance as he showed you where different shops were, explaining which were his favorites. He could never know you have watched him for almost a fortnight go to the said shops and go about his daily life.

You came to a halt in front of his building, Minho stopping to place a key into the lock of the door. He pushed the door open and beckoned you inside, stepping in behind you. Your eyes wandered around his abode, taking in the sights that you have grown accustomed to.

Minho guided you to his bed, pulling you beneath the blanket and into his arms. You laid there in silence, listening to the sound of Minho’s heartbeat, a sound so foreign to you as your heart did not beat within. The constant thump thump, thump thump caused a weird feeling to grow within you.

Listening to his heart reminded you that he was a human, and you a creature of the deep, posing as a human.

“Minho,” you breathed, adjusting yourself so you could see him better.

Minho looked down at you, curiosity in his eyes. You loved this man, loved him with all your being, the short while you’ve known him feeling like an eternity. However, you understood now what your clan members meant, that humans and sirens just couldn’t be. You were about to break his heart, breaking the artificial love between you two.

He could tell something was wrong, as your face seemed pained, a frown etched across your forehead. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, pulling you closer. He desperately needed you, just like he needed air to breathe. He’s not sure why he didn’t realize this sooner, wishing he could have met you sooner.

A part of him knows what you’re about to say, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear the words you will utter that will ultimately break his heart. He just couldn’t take it. He thinks that you both can make this work. He can visit you everyday, and have long chats with you by the sea. Every now and then you can venture on land, stay with him, and let him spoil you.

No, Minho doesn’t want to hear it, not at this moment. He hopes to distract you, as he pulls you ever closer and buries his cock within your walls once more, listening as you yelp in surprise. He buries his face within your hair, the strands tickling his nose as he ruts against you, his cock dragging to and fro within your walls.

He cups your breasts within his hands, toying with your nipples, listening to your sweet moans, the melody causing his heart and his cock to swell. He tries not to listen as you mumble out ‘we can never be, we can never be,’ chanting the phrase like a prayer.

You feel something wet fall down the back of your neck and dribble down your shoulders, your breasts. Realizing that Minho is crying, you squeeze his hand tighter, holding him closer to you as he thrusts into you over and over. You uttered the words that would break him, just as you thought.

No tears graced your face however; after all, you are a siren, a cold hearted creature. You could hear Minho pleading behind you, “please, please, please.” His words went through one ear and out the other. You should have let him be, let him succumb to his fate just like the rest of his crew members.

Minho was close, despite the melancholy within, his orgasm steadily approaching as he buried himself deeper within your walls, giving himself body and soul fully to you. He wanted, no needed you to cum with him, granting him this one wish. Reaching his hand around your body, he found your clit, circling his finger over the nub in gentle circles. He heard your breath catch, his mouth curling up into a smile despite the turmoil he was experiencing within.

With a few more thrusts, he stilled as he came, squeezing you to him as you fell apart beside him. He couldn’t see your face, couldn’t memorize the look of pleasure one last time. He felt more tears grace the corners of his eyes as you disentangled from his arms and got up from bed, leaving him a fraction of the man he used to be.

You couldn’t look at the man below you as you dressed, fastening your makeshift dress to your body one last time. You hardened your facial expression, disdain in your heart for the weakness of the man you thought you loved. You ignored the pleas from Minho, slowly walking to the door.

“Please my love, please, don’t leave!” Minho cried out, his body shaking from the sobs wrecking his frame.

He watched you open the door and walk out, shutting the door behind you. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, squeezing, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. The feeling spread throughout his body, causing him to curl up in a ball. He felt as if he was broken, the effects of your siren charm gone. He didn’t know how or when he’d be able to get up, the pain too much for him to handle. All he understood in that moment was you took his heart through the door as you left for good.

You made your way back to the sea, feeling cleansed after your realization. Yes, a part of you still longed for Minho, the feeling trying to claw its way into your non-beating heart. However, you pushed it down, buried it in the depths of your soul and continued your walk back to your home, back to where you belonged.

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months since you have last seen Minho. You were once more perched on your favorite rock, the sun beating down and warming your skin. You fell back into your routine, playing your role of capturing sailors unawares with a new fervor.

You felt at ease, the thoughts and feelings you had for that man successfully buried deep within. You didn’t care at all for the man, not even wanting to think of his name. Despite this feeling, you once more found yourself swimming out to sea and making your way to the main land.

You arrived at the rock you used to hide at and watch him as he labored by the docks. Nightfall was nearing, and the other men were clearing out, making their way home to their families. As time went on, all but one man remained.

You watched as Minho finished up his duties, a quickness to his step. You figured he was ready to go home, more than tired after laboring in the heat all day. Without knowing what came over you, you swam out to the dock, and stopped, your head bobbing above water to gaze at him.

Minho looked up, feeling the intensity of someone looking at him. He dropped the nets he was holding at the sight of you, the siren that once saved him and broke his heart all within the span of weeks.

He felt the healing seams of his heart rip, the pain searing through him once more as it did months ago. Despite this, he felt something else bubble up, a warmth that tickled his soul like a flame to a candle. The thoughts of your love for him occupied his mind, but also the pain of you walking out plagued him as well.

You watched Minho. You knew he was internally battling with himself, the reminders of what was and could have been tormenting his mind. You should have just swam away, leaving the man alone for good on the dock, so he could get home just like any other night.

However, you decided you couldn’t let your prey go, not this time. Therefore, you stayed in place, treading water as you watched Minho.

‘Fuck it,’ Minho thought. He could be with you. He wants to be with you. Before he knew it, he was making his way to the sea, putting one step in front of the other. His eyes never left your form, not wanting to blink and then open his eyes and find you gone.

You watched as Minho got closer to you, as he waded out to sea, the water getting higher and higher around him until he had to swim.

Minho began swimming, pumping his arms and kicking his legs, propelling himself further out to you. He could feel the burn as he swam further and further away from the shore. He didn’t care however, as long as he was closer to you.

You opened your arms, awaiting Minho, as he was closer than ever, hope written on his face. As he reached your arms, you wrapped them around him, bringing your forehead to his. You felt Minho’s breath against your neck as he breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“We can make this work,” he breathed, his eyes pleading you to understand. “Please don’t leave me again.”

You nodded your head, as you played along, the ruse only a trick to capture your prey. You held him tighter in your embrace, feeling him shake within your hold.

“We can be together forever Minho,” you whispered.

Minho looked at you with tears in his eyes, elated that you were not going to give up on him.

Fate has a cruel way of making its face shown, sometimes ending in a not so happy ending. You felt it was your fate to love this man but also be his downfall. Holding onto Minho ever tighter, you placed one last kiss on his lips and began to swim down into the depths of the sea.

Minho’s face widened as he realized what was happening, his body beginning to twist and turn as you swam deeper into the sea with him tow. He didn’t want it to end this way. You had tricked him and he was too late to realize it. He thought you both were destined to be together but maybe he was wrong after all. Alas, it was too late, as his struggle was moot.

Fate brought you both together, but fate also took away everything. How cruel can fate be.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[pinkslipxox]

Could you do a blurb where one of the twins are scared of travelling and like Billie and reader helps her

hey mami! omg yes i love it! Hope you enjoy ☺️

——————————————————————————

The bustling airport hummed with energy as families hurried to their gates, and you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. Today was a special day—you and your wife, Billie, were taking your five-year-old twin daughters, Ava and Mia, on their first family trip by plane. You glanced down at the girls, their little hands clasped around yours and Billie’s, eyes wide with curiosity and anticipation.

As you all approached their boarding gate, Billie’s comforting presence filled you with joy. The music sensation, with her raven black hair and oversized attire, radiated warmth as she bent down to speak to your daughters, playfully ruffling Ava’s hair and giving Mia a gentle squeeze. “You two are going to love flying! It’s like being in a big metal bird,” Billie said, her voice brimming with excitement.

Once on the plane, you all settled down in your seats. You held Mia on your lap by the window, while Ava kept Billie’s hand tightly in her grip. As the plane began to taxi, the rumble of the engines grew louder, and you noticed Ava’s face turning pale, her little brows furrowing in worry.

“Mama, I don’t like this!” Ava whimpered, her eyes wide with fear as she looked up at you as her lower lip began to quiver.

Your heart ached at the sight of her daughter’s distress. “It’s okay, sweet girl. You’re safe. Remember what we talked about? The plane is just like a big bus in the sky. You’ll see some amazing things out of the window!” you assured in a soft voice, gently squeezing Ava’s hand.

Billie instantly turned her attention to Ava, her own eyes filled with compassion. “Hey, baby girl,” she said softly, leaning closer. “Look at me. I promise it’ll be okay. You know how I always sing to you when you get scared? I can do that on the plane too. And once we’re up, we’ll have the best view ever!”

Mia, taking in her sister’s fears in consideration, instinctively reached out to her twin, her little voice sweet and soothing. “Ava, look! We’re going to fly through the clouds! Just like in our storybooks!” she chimed, her face lighting up with excitement. “You’ll see all the ‘puffy, white cotton candy’ up there! It’s so cool!”

Ava turned to Mia, her fear slowly easing as she took in her sister’s enthusiastic words and kind gesture. Your heart melted. The warmth of sisterly love filled the space between them, and soon Ava managed a small smile, reassured by her twin’s encouragement.

“Alright, my loves, let’s take a deep breath together,” you suggested, guiding them both through the motions. Billie held Ava’s gaze as they inhaled deeply and then exhaled together, allowing the tension in the air to dissipate.

As the plane finally lifted off the ground, both twins squealed in delight, their fear forgotten as they looked out the window, eyes widening at the world shrinking beneath them. You and Billie exchanged proud and relieved smiles, your hearts swelling with love.

Once the flight settled into the smooth cruising altitude, the girls leaned against you and Billie, sleep beginning to take over their little bodies. You wrapped her arms around Mia, feeling the gentle warmth radiate from your daughter. Billie leaned closer, gently gripping your chin to mold your lips with hers together in a soft kiss. The world around you faded into a blissful moment filled with love.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Billie whispered against your lips, her voice laced with pride and admiration.

“You are too,” you replied, smiling as she pulled back slightly, your foreheads touching. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

As the girls nestled against you two, the sound of their soft breaths filled the cabin. You sighed contentedly, feeling grateful for this beautiful family you’ve had created with the love of your life. Billie’s hand found yours, intertwining her fingers with yours as you shared hushed words of love while your daughters slept peacefully in each of your arms.

You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

[writingoddess1125]

Hello! Could do Mihawk with an beloved who's like a Disney princess and attracts animal whenever she/they sing, but Mihawk is just confused standing there like "wtf? Why are there deer inside?? There's litterly no deer on his island????"

I love this!

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How and Why?

When Mihawk had gotten with you he knew you were... odd-

The opposite of him in every way. While his hands were for killing and takinf away- yours was for life and charity. The embodiment of a Innocent Saint in his eyes- that he had in some wait tainted said innocence with his nature and desire for you.

It was hard for a killing machine like himself to gave to curve said nature when you came along. You promoting mercy, second chances and guidance for others.

While this tested his patients- it wasn't the main thing- no no

It was the animals-

It was the God damn animals that seemed to follow you everywhere!

You hum while outside- Bunnies suddently appear to shit on his lawn.

You whistle happily while gardening birds from all walks of life appear to once again shit on everything.

Goddess have mercy if you sing cause the animal kingdom appears randomly.

If he took you with him say out to a light mission or just for a vacation, suddently you'd have half the God damn forest trailing behind you and he would have to sneak a quick blade to snag a few rabbits without you noticing for a nice dinner. In fear you'd cry in knowing your abilties were being used for Mihawk to hunt dinner.

However..

Non of this mattered since he loved you, he loved you more then he had words to express and you loved him just as much- So he was willing to turn a blind eye to this all. Till the day he couldn't.

It was suppose to be a relaxed day- get some nice food, some drinks and just lounge about. Mihawk was excited for this, he had been working hard and wanted some down time.. especially with you- Stepping into the livingroom ready to shower you in attention he froze.

"What the actual hell?-" Mihawk said way louder then he ment to and seeing you turn around quickly. There in the livingroom you were on your knees petting a fully grown fucking deer that was leaning into your touch.

"Hi honey!"

Mihawk is just standing there holding a wine glass in his open shirt and staring at you in what can only be described as total shock and you can practically see the vein in his forehead.

"(Y/N)' How the hell did you get a deer in the house- Wait deer at all there are non on the island?" He questioned as he downed the glass of wine like a shot and set it aside.

"I sang and she came here" You say with a shrug and continue to pet the wide eyed doe.

He huffed at this, rubbing his temple.

"I thought we agreed no animals in the house?.." He grumbled- Trying to mentally wrap his head around a doe in his livingroom.

"But she looked so cold and was by the front door Hawks! I couldnt just leave her there" You say poking out your bottom lip- Mihawk mentally sighs.

"That doesnt... No- No matter... saves me from going to the market for venison" He says calmly and reaches for his blade calmly.

Your eyes widening as you realize what he means and hug the deer close to you.

"No! Mihawk you cant kill her" You yell as tears well in your eyes.

"You have a fully grown Doe in our livingroom- no idea were she came from and a meat locker low on venison" He tried to reason by you sat there crying and Mihawk groaned-

"Then what is your plan with it hm?" He questioned. That was what lead him outside, carrying a squirming 120 pound doe to the stables he had long since forgotten about while you set down some old hay, cut apples and nuts for feed and he releases the kicking animal into its new space.

Mihawk sighed now looking at the once empty stables of the castle now housed a doe- A Sinking feeling that this stable was going to be getting fuller..

"You are lucky I love you-" He grumbled, Hearing you giggle and jump up to kiss his cheek.

"I love you too Mihawk. And I promise to make it up to you~" You say with a wink. Mihawk now remembering how and why he had forgiven all the times before.

[seonghwaddict]

stupefied — kang yeosang

in which a small accident leads to something more.

prince!kang yeosang x fem!reader. genre. fluff, domestic fluff, slight crack. warnings. they're super awkward, description and mentions of wounds, a tiny bit of blood, they're super cute. wc. 5.8k.

lilo's notes. hi i'm back :3

　　　　　　　　　main masterlist

There was nothing that could explain why Prince Kang Yeosang was roaming the woods, other than the fact that he desired a break. He told his servants not to go looking for him because he was on a personal mission, but in reality, he wanted to mindlessly wander around in a disguise that would not attract attention. He set off in his worst garments and a hood above his head. The brief vacation was only supposed to last for a day, but it did not go as he had anticipated.

After winding his way through snow and wood for so long, he fell into a rhythm. His defences were down and his thoughts were building themselves into other things until he heard singing. It was an enchanting melody, but that did not keep him from being wary. Once he brought more focus to his path, he realised that the part of the forest he was in felt unfamiliar. He told himself he was too competent to fall into such a generic trap, so he got off his horse and secured him to a tree. After asking his companion not to make a sound—as if the animal would understand him—he moved further with much caution and hands raised. His fingers twitched as the voice grew louder and his boots pushed quietly onto the earth.

Up ahead, you hummed a sweet melody. However, you faltered for a second when you heard the snap of a twig. It was easy to believe that it was likely one of the many harmless animals that liked to roam about the area in the afternoon, so you continued. Your confidence began to diminish once the sounds of birds twittering faded into silence. It did not look like a storm was coming, so the safest conclusion was already thrown aside along with your composure. By all accounts, if you were so nervous, why did you continue singing?

As Yeosang passed a shrub, he saw you by several bushes filled with various berries. His first thought was not him questioning why a young woman would be by herself in this secluded part of the forest. Instead, he thought of how carefully your fingers skimmed across each fruit to study them. He was close enough to see the way the sun caused a glimmer that beamed off your shoulders and brought a shine to the locks of your hair. If he was closer, he would have seen that your rosy lips were the result of you biting them to strengthen your concentration on berry picking. To his hidden delight, those same lips did not stop singing as minutes passed. The sight before him eased his suspicions significantly, but he was still hesitant about making his presence known. The Prince had planned to turn on his heels and try to forget what he saw, but once he put his guard down, his vigilance followed suit. A larger branch whimpered as it cracked from the weight of his body, and the next thing he could properly process was the girl’s frightened eyes meeting him.

From your perspective, it was after you had noticed that the birds were completely silent that you heard the branch break. You glanced at your surroundings briefly, picking up the largest rock you spotted. Just in case. You were on edge more than usual, so you whipped around to see why the sound was coming from behind you, and what had been causing it. Any other creature was what you expected, but when you saw a man crouched behind a shrub, you instinctively screamed and threw the rock right at him, hitting his head. The basket of freshly picked berries was knocked over as you tried to gather the fabric of your dress. Your shoes carried you to the nearest tree and you hid behind it and held your breath. The anticipation grew up your spine as the silence persisted. Minutes passed without any response from the mysterious man so she peeked. You could see the man’s wavy black hair still peeking out of what he previously hid behind.

You had concluded that ten minutes was not the normal amount of time that someone would pretend to be unconscious, so you approached his still body with your hands stretched out, ready to defend your own life. His face was the first thing she noticed about him. His features were so striking that you felt that if you reached out with your hands, your fingers would have bled. His physical appearance did not match the frayed clothing that he was wearing. Every strand of his hair fell into perfect position even though he had been knocked down on the ground. He was well-groomed in every sense of the word. It was odd. From your speed search, there did not seem to be any weapons on him, which made the situation even stranger.

“Oh, no.” You sank to the ground in shame.

Your fingers warily made their way to his wrist to check for a pulse, then his neck. He was so cold that without the hammering beating of his heart, she would have assumed that he was already dead. The growing red colour on his arm and the thin cut on his temple made the situation even more critical. You needed to get him to your home, but you did not know how to. You scrambled to pick up the man, but the weight you felt when you attempted to lift him by his shoulders was enough to convince you that dragging him back home would not work. Everything seemed pointless until you heard the heavy breaths and cries of a horse not too far from where you were. You thought that if it was not this strange man’s horse, then who else would be around to tie a horse to a tree? After practically begging the horse to lie down, you were finally able to drag the man onto it. That’s when you definitely knew you made the right decision. The majestic, pitch-black creature seemed so comfortable with the heavy man thrown over it like a towel.

“Come along now, sweetie.” You took the horse’s reins and walked it to your cottage.

When Prince Yeosang woke up, the first thing he saw was a cat. It was perched on his chest with no thought about the consent of the stranger. Its mismatched green and blue eyes almost distracted Yeosang from the fact that he was in a room that he was unfamiliar with. Not only that, but he felt something wrapped tightly around his arm and something else sticking against his temple. Before he could panic, he heard someone coming into the room.

“Laura!” You came rushing in. The cat was quickly removed from the prince’s chest, and he felt like he was left completely thoughtless. You tried to cradle Laura, but the cat leapt from your hands and out of the room. “I’m so sorry,” oyu said. The man stayed completely still, as the emotion on his face still remained ambiguous. You took that as your cue to introduce yourself with your first name. You waited to see if he would introduce himself too. When he didn’t, you continued. “You fell on a rock and were out cold when I checked you. Um,” you quickly pointed to the window on your right, “your horse is outside. I fed him… he’s really pretty.”

“Thank you,” he said. At any other time, the prince would be ready to fight his way out of a situation, but he was more focused on the light from the candles in the room gently contouring your face. Your beauty was painfully enchanting. It was a surprise how your features stupefied him the moment you stumbled through the door.

“Your food.” You dashed out of the small room as quickly as you came in. Your dress moved like billowing clouds as you made haste to retrieve his food, your quick footsteps giving the illusion that you were floating. Yeosang felt like he was looking at a person from the very fairy tales he heard as a child.

You came back in carrying a tray with a bowl and utensils in the centre. “Would you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Some food,” you nervously stated. Your idea of bringing the man back to your cabin was as awkward as you expected it to be, you were starting to regret your plan.

“Oh…” he nodded, “yes, please.” It should not have been that easy for a stranger to convince him to ingest anything, but he already had the silverware in his mouth before he was mentally chastising himself for being so easily charmed.

“I’m sorry for the confusion. I think you got cut on a sharp rock because your arm was bleeding really bad,” you said. That is when Yeosang finally stopped eating and looked at his left arm. It was utterly embarrassing that he did not notice it was entirely bandaged until now. He did not want to admit how bad it looked from the few discoloured parts of flesh peeking through. “And… you must’ve hit your head on something. I put some plasters on the little bit, but I think it should be fine by now.”

“Still, I would hate for you to continue your journey with an injured arm,” you added. You kept your attention on his wounded limb, it was jarring to see how dark his eyes were. They intimidated you into looking anywhere but at him and attempting bad conversation. “You can stay here until you feel well enough to return to what you were doing if that’s what she would like.”

“Thank you so much for your kindness.” Yeosang was no longer going to lie to himself. He knew he would rather spend days with the bewitching woman who saved his life than return to his very own prison. He would just hope that you didn’t have any ill intentions because it would be a shame if he would have to take you out himself.

“So,” you got up to mindlessly shuffle some stuff in the room. “What’s your name?” you grinned.

“Yeosang,” he replied without much thought. He wanted to take it back, but it was too late. No one really called him that anymore—but if you didn’t recognise him as the prince of this nation, he would try his best to keep it that way even if he could only experience a form of normality for a few days.

“That’s a lovely name… May I ask where you’re from? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the nearest town…” You trailed off at the end in hesitation.

He thought for a moment before he said, “Gyeongju.”

“Oh, my—What’s it like? I’ve never been to the capital.” You could not stop your true reaction from escaping.

“It’s…” he let out a sigh, “pleasant.” The conversation died for a moment so you focused on Laura making it to the top of your dresser. It was your excuse for still not looking at him. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was raised here” you replied as you stroked Laura. He nodded. The conservation did not go any further until you chimed in again, “Well, it’s late. It’s such a shame that you just woke up.”

“I’m sure I’ll sleep,” he voiced politely.

“Okay.” You smiled and began to snuff out the candles around the room. “The door’ll be open so if you have any problems, you can just ask.”

The prince mindlessly nodded to your instruction. It would have been easy to ask where you would be if he was not so uncharacteristically timid. Yeosang refused to try to sleep. There was still some hesitance that made him cautious of sinking into the bed with a weak arm. It grew stiffer as the night continued, so he distracted himself with a book that was left on the wooden dresser.

The feeling of a weight on the Prince’s chest woke him up. When his eyes snapped open, they were looking at the sharp eyes of a feline which brought back memories of the afternoon before. His consciousness did not scare away the cat—as he had desired—but he knew picking up Laura would surely bring unpredictable pain. So, he stayed in an undisclosed staring match with her even as he heard small movements outside the room. After a short period, his focus broke once he heard distant calls for the cat. The young Prince looked back at the cat, which was now preparing to fall asleep on his lap until it met his eyes again. Laura stood right back up—he almost expected her to groan—and hopped off of the bed and out of the room. He followed suit, careful not to strain his injuries, and got out of bed. His body ached more than he was used to. It hurt all over, but there was a more pronounced pain in his forehead. Unfortunately, there was not much to do but follow the path Laura had shown to the kitchen.

“Laura—” The cat quickly interrupted you by hopping into your arms as you crouched. “Where did you go?” you petted her. Yeosang walked into the kitchen, but his steps in his shoes were very quiet. You didn’t notice him until Laura turned from staring at absolutely nothing to the towering wounded man. “Did you wake him?” You whispered to her. Laura continued to stare at the towering, pale man. “I apologise,” you muttered. He nodded with the faintest, courteous smile. You took the trace of emotion that you were given and pulled out a dining chair as you gestured him over. His long legs took him over to the dining table without much effort.

“Thank you.” He completed a small bow, and he sat. Instead of going into his meal, he looked around as you were occupied with trying to get Laura to eat. His brief scanning of the house had him see his horse through the window to the right of him.

“He was fed this morning,” you reassured him.

“Thank you.” He felt like an echo in a cave. He still had not said anything besides constantly thanking you for your hospitality. “He appears to be doing much better than I am.” He was satisfied to see how easily you let out a small chuckle.

After making sure Laura had finished eating, you rose and grabbed the handles of a woven picnic basket. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you told him as you looked at his nose instead of his eyes because it was easier that way. You turned to Laura and whispered to her ears, “Please, behave, and don’t embarrass me.” As if she would listen if she could. As you went through the door, you looked back for a brief moment. You saw the man’s head whip back to attentively look at the cat on the dining chair. You closed the door and sent a small prayer that if the man tried to take anything or cause any trouble, then your cat would at least try to put up a fight.

Once the door had completely closed and your gentle footsteps grew quieter, he waited three minutes while eating and carrying on the staring match he had with the tabby cat, then got up and let his legs lead him throughout the house. Different varieties of dried flowers spun into circles were gently laid into a bowl. Next to it was the basket of berries he believed he saw yesterday. Plates were lazily leaning against the wall on a shelf while mugs were hanging from hooks. A sweet smell lingered in the kitchen, even though it looked recently cleaned. He couldn’t exactly name the scent but it resembled a mixture of vanilla and something fruity. He did not lose interest in the kitchen but knew his nosy lingering may take longer if he stayed. Yeosang walked to the living room to see two small armchairs next to a well-maintained fireplace. The abundance of shelves on the wall were filled with many books of varying sizes and colours. There was a knitted blanket haphazardly tossed over the chair facing his room.

He continued scanning the room and saw a closed door he never noticed; he had no time to think about the chairs any further. Had he been a guest anywhere else, he would have honoured privacy, but he considered this a unique circumstance. His fingers enveloped the handle and the door whined as he slowly pushed it open. All he did was poke his head in and was met with a clean and very simple room. It was a lot like the one he slept in, except there were different items decorating the tiny dresser. 

Ultimately, Yeosang felt pleased enough with what he glimpsed that he took his snooping to the front door. He held the door latch, peered through the window next to it, and opened the door.

The sun hit his cheeks in small ruptures as its rays tried to twist through the thick trees that blanketed and guarded the cottage. His horse stood without any sign of distress. Yeosang petted the horse while simultaneously giving him some of the berries that Yeosang took off of his plate.

The Prince looked around the exterior of the cottage as his companion leisurely absorbed the sun. The house almost appeared swallowed by bushes, shrubs, flowers, and a few potted plants. His slightly tattered shoes led him around the house. There was a small garden of salad leaves in their pots. With one of his hands brought behind his back, he leaned in to look further at the vegetation.

“You found dinner.” 

Your small voice only tapped his ears, but it startled him into losing his balance. He would have caught himself if she had not assumed he would crush the leaves and attempt to catch him. Your hasty moves caused your steps to be misplaced and she crashed into his hard, warm back. You expected to take him down with you, but he did not budge. Once you realized your face was not meeting the dirt, but rather remained on his back, you erected your spine back up and tried to ignore the wave of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry!” You frantically tried to smoothen the wrinkles on his clothes while avoiding his eyes.

You thought you heard a chuckle come from him. It would have been hard to miss it if his shoulders did not shake when he laughed. “I should be apologizing,” he briefly looks at the plants before switching to look you in the eyes, “I’ve been exploring.”

“That’s fine,” you assured. As he watched you pick up your basket, Yeosang wondered how he got so occupied that he did not notice your return. You walked back to the front of the cottage and inside without checking to see if he was following you. Laura poked her head up upon the opening of the door and right back down when she saw it was you.

“May I?” you heard him say. You turned and saw him, gesturing toward the rows of books you had on display.

“Go ahead,” you said, “there’s not a lot for you to do around here, unfortunately.”

“It’s quite alright, this is enough entertainment.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” You went back to rummaging through a cabinet for the items you needed to tend to the plants outside.

For Yeosang, the morning went by as quickly as the last chapter of the book had arrived. He noticed that you had gone outside, but not that the sun had already made it to its highest point by the time he closed the story and set it aside. He made an effort to inconspicuously look outside the window leading outside to the front of the house to see if he could spot you and not just a tall black horse. His effort was a failure, but his pride found another alternative. The Prince rose from the chair and walked outside.

As he pretended to walk closer to his companion, he got a much better view of you. Your hands were occupied with tending to the pieces of each plant as your eyes followed them with deep concentration. He saw strands of your hair spilling out of a patterned headscarf you used to protect yourself from the sun. From those same strands came a single bead of sweat that started from your head, down the side of your face, and past your jaw. It continued down your neck and that’s when he refused to keep looking further.

“How was the book?” You looked at him for a moment to see him looking at his horse with too much focus.

He looked over and tried to pretend to have just noticed you. “Good,” he replied. He watched you get up from the ground.

You removed your gloves and walked closer to him. “Could I– um–” She pointed to his bandaged arm.

“Of course,” he replied.

As soon as you were given permission, you took his hand with one hand and lifted his arm with the other. You inched closer in hopes of seeing more without having to move the arm any more than needed. During your inspection, from his height, he was able to see the natural curl of your lashes. The fragments of the sun made the warm glow of your skin more apparent. When you took his hands, it was a moment of cold clarity. He could not remember the last time he was so aware that he was touching another person as it was happening.

“Yeosang?” you looked up at him and were surprised by the lack of space you were giving him. It was easier to pretend that you did not notice.

He hummed in response

“I asked you ‘how much does it hurt?’”

“It aches, not as painful as yesterday, though.”

You nodded, gently placing his hand back down. “And your head?” You gestured at your temple.

“Feels fine to me.”

“Wonderful.”

The rest of the afternoon flew by thanks to the chores she tended to outside and inside, with Yeosang lingering behind you every step of the way. He offered help many times, but you denied his offers and told him not to put stress on his arm. Not wanting to be completely useless, he held a short conversation. It was when dinner was ready and Laura was eating out her plate that you both fell back onto the topic of where he was from.

“Forgive me for asking, but what’s the Palace like?” you asked. He mentioned working there during one of your short conversations.

“Um,” he thought for a moment as he chewed, “clean, I suppose?” You finally heard the sound of laughter not just from yourself, but from him as well as he shrugged. It was nice, and it filled up the house with warmth. “I’ve never had the chance to observe it all,” he said.

“Were you busy?”

“Many duties,” he claimed.

His responses were as short as the time you had known him, but they were getting longer, much to your delight. You wanted to ask him what his job was, but you were not sure if you would be poking too much into his personal business. However, your curiosity about the outside world fueled you to keep going. “Are those duties being neglected right now?”

 “Possibly.”

“I’ll try my best to help speed up your recovery,” you pushed around a piece of asparagus on your plate.

“Much appreciated, but I’m sure they don’t miss me too much.” He quietly appreciated your questions, because as he answered them, the excitement in your eyes never dimmed.

You nodded in response and continued to eat. You pretended not to look at him as he ate, but even in the evening, the dim lighting of the candles scattered around the house made his face look even more enticing. You saw him glance over to check on his horse outside.

“Your horse should be fine outside. Nothing ever comes by here,” you assured.

“It is quite an isolated home,” he realised.

“Yes,” you agreed.

It was quiet for a few more moments until he asked a question of his own. “Have you always lived here?”

“Yes. Can’t really remember living anywhere else.” You tried to pet Laura as she wrapped herself around your foot, but she then began avoiding your hand before skittering under the table to settle at his feet.

“Really? I’ve never come across here,” he said as his brows furrowed, but he nodded before going back to his meal.

The rest of the evening was spent cleaning up the events of the day that passed. The current occupants of the house finished the day with reading. Once it was time to retreat into sleep, you were already fast asleep on the chair with your quilt and a book trapped under it with you.

Yeosang saw how shallow your breaths became and how supple your cheeks were when they were pressed against your shoulder that you used as a pillow. He took it as his cue to go to the bed he was given. He went around and snuffed out each flame in every candle with the tips of his fingers. He pretended to ignore the cat as she followed him into the room and slept beside him. He made the effort to try to rest by telling himself that this would probably be the only real rest he would get for the next decade.

The sun brought in the next day and he never remembered falling asleep or waking up. The stiffness in his back made it clear that he did both of those things. He wished that he was not a little disappointed that Laura did not greet him with her morning stare, but he did not take it personally. He simply put on the same shoes and hoped that he would find someone in the kitchen even though there was no noise coming from any part of the house. He made it into the living room and was met with complete stillness and silence. From the window, he could see his horse grazing. Once he made it outside, the sun was shining much brighter than he expected. He had slept longer than he had intended.

It was relieving to see Laura preoccupied with attacking insects, but one more person was missing. Amid his deep thoughts, he petted his horse and scanned around the house for any sign of you getting a task done.

“I suppose you don’t know where she is,” the Prince playfully said to the cat.

Later, a certain beauty walked back to her cottage with a picnic basket of her clothes in one hand and a large bucket of water in the other. You bid good morning to your cat and his horse on your path back inside the house. It was almost as quiet as you left it, but you did hear some movement coming from inside your old room.

He could already tell it was you who came back just by the gentleness of the sound of the footsteps that came inside. The prince already had a book in his hand, trying not to look flush when he saw your head poke into the room.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” he made the effort to remember to smile instead of just staring.

“I’m here to change your bandage.” You came in with a new set of clothes in your hand and the other necessary items to clean up a wound. The various plasters you stuck onto his right temple were already removed the day before, nothing but a faint bruise was left behind. His arm, however, would take a bit longer to heal. As you took off his bandage, you forced your hands to not tremble, repeatedly reminding yourself to only touch where it was necessary despite how tempting the muscles of his arm looked. Once the fabric was completely off, he got to see the injury that was his excuse to extend his vacation. The deep cut started halfway up his forearm and to his upper arm. It was like a dark red serpent permanently etched on his skin. I suppose that does seem pretty bad…

“I think it might scar,” you said as you gently tried to wipe off areas of dried blood.

“I wouldn’t worry,” you heard him say, “… a scar isn’t too hard to get rid of.”

You nodded in hesitation and pretended you could not feel his deep brown eyes staring at you as you worked. “I brought you some water from the stream so you can bathe. You can wear that shirt over there while I clean this one.”

“Thank you, but I’ll heal just the same without you inconveniencing yourself.” His comment was genuine but had a mixture of disappointment.

“Well, it is my responsibility.” You tried not to seem entranced by his starless eyes as you both stopped for a moment to look at each other.

“Why?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders in response, ignoring the unspoken truth marinating on your tongue. It’s my fault you got hurt.

The afternoon with him in the cottage was slightly more talkative than the days before. He attempted to play with Laura as he pretended to read, skimming the same line over and over and over again. In the moments when he was not too distracted, he watched you complete some more chores around the property with the occasional insistence to help. You begged him to remain rested and even threatened him to sell his horse if he tried to help, but in exchange he let you continue to ask about the capital. His description of the palace brought shame to the books describing the same place. He was surprised at how willing he was to recount the layout of the place he had come to know well. By then, speaking more openly to you was much less difficult than he had expected it to be.

By the time the sunlight took over the country, he was intrigued by how quickly the days were being eaten by the cooperation of the moon and the sun. On his way to return the books that he took, he watched you begin to blow out each candle until the darkness flooded the cottage. Yeosang took the opportunity to retreat into his temporary room, in which Laura was already sleeping at the foot of the bed.

“Yeosang,” you spoke into the darkness. He turned around. You noticed how well his figure fit into the darkness. His ink hair almost blended into the surrounding shadows. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled.

It was a good night. He allowed his bed to swallow him much easier than the nights before, but you took longer to fall asleep.

The very late afternoon the next day was the perfect time to go searching for food in the forest. It was initially meant to be a solo trip, but the not-so-unfamiliar stranger refused to hear your request to rest his arm, tagged along, and promised to only watch. The walk throughout the woods was filled with the sound of shoes crushing leaves and branches accompanied by a pleasant chat. It was a few minutes into your search that she found what they were looking for.

“They’re beautiful!” You smiled and looked back at the tall man to see if he was just as happy as you were. He returned your smile with his own since he was amused by your child-like giddiness.

Without paying caution, she enthusiastically reached for the berries. He reached for your wrist to stop you from hurting yourself, but it was too late. A particular thorn right above the fruit sliced through your flesh much deeper than it would have if she had noticed it. As the thorn ran through your hand, parting skin from one another like a boulder spilling crashing waves in the ocean, blood began rushing out of her open wound. She knew better than to pull back her hand recklessly, knowing it might make the situation worse. He did it for her instead. He carefully took her hand and tried to cover the wound. 

The wound wasn’t terrible or serious in any way, but neither of you acknowledged that as he cradled your hands a mere five minutes later, the two of you sat on the sofa. His hands, though large and masculine, felt surprisingly soft. He wiped the spilt blood clean and carefully placed a plaster over it. Even after successfully treating your small wound, he kept your hand in both of his, looking down at them and absentmindedly brushing his thumb over your knuckles. You didn’t mind one bit. In fact, you’d been yearning to feel his touch more and more as the days passed.

A comfortable silence passed over the two of you, but minutes later a conversation came by naturally. If someone asked you what this conversation was about, you wouldn’t have been able to answer, for you were so comfortable speaking to him that you let down your guard, words flowing freely without a second thought. At some point, the two of you had moved closer. So close that you had lain down while he stayed sat, your legs thrown over his at some point as his hands tapped and caressed your knees.

You talked well into the night. Naturally, you grew tired, your eyelids drooping as you looked up at him, trying your best not to fall asleep. He caught on quickly, a chuckle escaping him as he gave your knee a brief squeeze.

“You’re tired,” he pointed out, “you should sleep.”

In response, you pouted and shook your head. “No, no. I’m fine. Keep talking to me, please.”

His smile softened at your words and did as you asked. The low baritone of his voice did nothing to keep you awake, soothing you further asleep. Minutes later, he thought you’d agree to go to your bed and sleep, but you only whined in your half-asleep state and pulled him down with you, clutching onto his sleeve but still careful not to hurt him.

And so he found himself laying with you on the couch, the two of you squished together on the narrow furniture yet it was still comfortable. You fell asleep much quicker than he did, already prancing around in dreamland by the time he finished manoeuvring the two of you to lay comfortably. Eventually, your gentle breaths against his neck and soft hand on his arm lulled him into a deep sleep.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb

[cursedfallingmoon]

Listen

Rory and reader dancing in the forest in the rising sun's light while they both him and the reader humming "Once Upon A Dream" softly as birds sing along all around them

Wfkysjiolc

I need it

- Anon💤

Who?: Rory

Type?: G/N Reader

Cw?: Possessiveness

A/n?: Sorry this was responded to so late! I got caught up in IRL stuff and my writer's block hit me so hard. Hope this is up to your expectations!!! Sorry for the weird ending, I wanted to fit the crows in from the first headcannons.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Rory was enchanted by the person in front of him. Their eyes were beautiful under the orange hue of the setting sun. The two were in the very forest they had first met. Where Rory found his true love. Rory followed every move, every gesture. He let you lead him. The rustling of the trees added to the serenity of the moment. You were alone with him. Him! It had been a couple moons since you saved him from the eternal sleep he was victim too. Rory couldn't imagine not being able to see you for a hundred years. Nor could he live with himself if you had died. But those worries are far behind. He's here with you now.

The sky covered you both in a magical light. The rustling of trees slowed as Rory caught your voice. You were singing! Your voice was so soothing. He could fall asleep with just listening to you. You could say everything was okay, and he'd believe you without question. Your singing was even better.

"Once upon a Dream..."

Your voice was so alluring that even the birds started to sing the same tune. Rory held you tighter as you guided him through the dance. It was a fluid harmony between you two. He had been working on his dancing. After your first waltz during Rory's birthday party, he had been inspired to improve. You inspire him to do more. Right now, though, all he can focus on is you.

The sun continued to set, the birds singing along with you got a bit louder, and your eyes shined. Rory fell in love with you even more. If that was even possible.

This moment was perfect. His dream come true.

Rory found himself humming along with your tune. He made sure he harmonized with you. Rory felt safe. Loved. Like nothing could ever harm him. Nothing would take him out of this moment. As long as he had you in his arms, then he could be happy. He could be safe.

This started out as a simple picnic date. That was what this was meant to be. That alone was perfect. But when you held out your hand to Rory, and pulled him against your chest, the date became perfect. He would do anything to make this moment last forever. To be in your arms forever. Your chest, and your arms, were where he was meant to be. No other space was ever warm enough for Rory.

When the sun finally set over its horizon, Rory felt saddened. The moment with you was over. Slowly, the birds dispersed, leaving you the only one singing. It was haunting how it echoed. Rory's body broke out in chills. His dream slowly seeped into a nightmare. He didn't like it.

"Dear… It's getting late."

Rory felt so meek. Small. He hated it. His hands tightened around your back. Rory found himself pressing his body tighter against yours.

"Oh. I hadn't noticed. Your smile distracted me from the sun. I swear it's just as if not more blinding."

Rory's anxieties slowly eased out of him. You always knew what to say. How to make him feel better. That's why he adored you so much.

As you pulled away to clean up the picnic, or what was left of it, this sinking feeling made its way to his stomach. The vibrant birds that sang along with you were all replaced with crows. Their eyes never left you.

Rory crept closer to you, his hand missing your arms a few times before he managed to grasp it. You noticed his tremble. You gathered everything up from your outing in one arm, using the other that Rory was holding onto to steady his hand.

"Come now. Let's get you back into the castle. You must be exhausted."

Your voice pulled him out of his worry. He nodded slowly and remained close to you as you both made your way out of the forest.

"You will cuddle me when we get back, won't you? I want to remain closer to you, even if our dance ended."

Rory asked softly, even the evening winds could blow them away. You heard him, however. You always did.

"Of course."

Leaving the crows, and the eeriness the night brought, Rory and you returned to the castle. Even with the eerie ending, that moment with you will forever live in Rory's heart. Nothing will ever take it away.

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