#because i too have much enthusiasm for chicken

[adore-laur]

would love to see how dadrry would react if his girls asked him for a baby brother 🤭

——

At dinner, after Harry picked the girls up from preschool and daycare, your eldest rambles on about her classroom adventures through spoonfuls of homemade fruit pasta. You smile at her with an undefinable amount of fondness while hanging on to every word. She seems to be loving school and adapting just fine to not seeing her parents as often throughout the weekdays. It could crumble your heart into ruins if you let it, but you focus on the bright side: it's one less thing to worry about when you're away from your babies. She's safe, she's happy, and while you miss her dearly during the day, her independence is blooming beautifully. It's evident in how she can hardly sit still in the morning.

Harry listens intently, only interspersing questions when appropriate so as not to make her lose her train of thought. Your youngest is sitting on his lap, secured by his fingers splayed across her tummy, while his other hand absentmindedly pretends to be an airplane serving applesauce straight into her awaiting mouth. It's a blissfully domestic scene, and you sometimes wish you could view it outside of your body and witness the pure, tangible love surrounding the kitchen table from an outsider's perspective.

The mellow evening sunlight washes the room in a dandelion-colored hue, and the California heat floats through the window to warm your soul. Crashing ocean waves accompany the sound of silverware clinking and the sweet lilt of your daughter's voice. With the weekend ahead, you feel a strong sense of contentedness. Being at home with the entire family, with no obligations pulling you apart, feels like diving into a pool on a hot summer day—it relaxes your muscles and rejuvenates your mind.

In the middle of a story about finding worms on the pavement during recess, your daughter, with unbridled enthusiasm, says, "A friend I talked to today told me she has a baby brother."

"Really?" Harry replies, matching her enthusiasm. "Did you tell her you have a sister?"

"Yeah, and I also told her I want a brother."

The bite of grilled chicken you swallow almost gets stuck on the way down your esophagus. Your eyes shoot to Harry, whose eyes are already locked on yours with humorous shock swimming in them. He hides his smile against the baby's head before kissing it. Then, he waves his hand, silently signaling for you to take the lead.

"A brother," you say slowly, fidgeting with the napkin beside your plate. "You want a baby brother. When... sorry, how long have you been thinking about this?"

"Since today at school!" On the high chair, she sits on her knees and beams with excitement. "My friend says her brother is cute and fat. Now I want one."

Harry, your savior, jumps in by saying, "Your baby sister is cute. And, well, she's chubby." He pats her precious little potbelly and bounces her in his lap. "Like most babies are."

"I want a baby sister and brother."

"Why do you want a brother?" you ask, mystified by the unexpected dinner conversation. Before her little sister was conceived, she only asked for a sibling. Now she's getting specific, and you're lost on how to answer adequately.

"Because." Dead silence follows her response as she stabs her silicone fork into the last pineapple tidbit in her bowl.

"Fair enough," Harry says. There's a sneaky glint in his gaze, and you know he's enjoying this subject matter far too much. You never have to worry about bringing up the prospect of having another baby together since you know he's all in. But since you're the one who carries the babies and pushes them out, he understands you're not quite ready yet. Or, at least, your body isn't.

"We can't guarantee you a brother," you say gently. "That's not how it works."

She frowns, looking at you and then at Harry. "How does it work?"

Harry snorts and stands up to begin clearing the empty dishes. "You should save that question for another time, lovebug." He kisses her cheek as he passes by. "C'mon, show me how Mommy taught you to wash your hands."

——

Later that night in bed, you lay your head on Harry's bare chest and delicately trace your fingers along the length of his bicep. The room is still, and his breathing is a constant sound and rhythm against your skin. Knowing you get to bask in his presence all day tomorrow is a wonderful thought to fall asleep to.

The weekend plans are still in discussion. Maybe you'll all just stay home and have a beach day. Maybe you'll take the kids to the park and fly the kites Harry recently bought for a breezy day. Whatever may come, you know there will be love and laughter in abundance.

"I need your breakfast order for tomorrow," Harry says, his voice gruff. He had a busy day at work, so you took over the kid's bedtime routine while he luxuriated in a long, hot shower and did his nightly stretches.

"I can get up to help," you reply. You know it's quite literally his job to cook meals for people, but you want to take a load off his shoulders. Going into parent mode after a long work week is no easy feat for anyone. It requires teamwork.

"No, you're sleeping in." He wraps you in his arms and buries his nose into your hair. "I'm serving you breakfast in bed with a side of cuddles."

You smile sleepily. "I'd like that. I'll eat whatever you make, by the way. Surprise me."

He squeezes you, slides his thigh between yours, and murmurs, "Think I'll eat you instead."

You lift your head and kiss his mint-flavored lips to shut him up. He always likes to start things right before bedtime. There's something about the intimacy of being alone with a locked door in the quiet night with the man you wake up to every morning. It's rare to indulge in moments like these.

"So, a baby brother, huh?" you say, switching gears to more innocent matters. You need all the sleep you can get tonight.

Harry laughs, his eyebrows raised as he rubs his hand down his face. "She kind of demanded it, didn't she?"

"Oh, don't even start with that." He'll use anything as a way to inspire the idea of a third child.

"You know my answer. And hers, apparently. I'll be patiently waiting until you say the word."

"What's the word?"

He hums a deep, thoughtful rumble beneath you. "Let's make another baby."

"How discreet," you say, laying your head back on his chest. "Anyway, I think a two-year gap is what works best. It gives me time to, you know, recover from the craziness and sleep deprivation."

"You want another baby with me?"

The fact that he even has to ask is befuddling. There is no one you would rather do this with. He's the best husband and the best father—the family you’re creating with him is just beginning.

"Yeah," you say softly, admiring the vulnerable look in his eyes. "One more. Maybe two."

Harry pleasurably groans and shifts his hips, the mere idea of knocking you up again somehow turning him on. You feel his hardness, which makes you roll your eyes. Men are too easy.

Once he settles down, he says, "Take all the time you need, sweetheart. I'm tremendously happy with what we have right now."

"What if we end up having another girl?"

"Then consider me the luckiest man in the universe." He tilts his head on the pillow. "Is it bad if I secretly hope that happens?"

"You’d have three princesses to spoil rotten."

"Four," he whispers, tapping his fingers along your spine. With a sleepy sigh, he adds, "It's been hard being away from them. From you."

Although he keeps his promise of always being home by dinnertime, he doesn't always get to drop the girls off at school in the morning. By the time you get them settled in the car, he's already in the trenches at work. To make up for it, he cooks their breakfasts and kisses them goodbye before he leaves.

"We have our trip to Italy next month," you mention.

"Fuck, that's right." Harry seamlessly flips you over so that he's hovering over you. "Perfect time and place for babymaking. Maybe we should start practicing right now."

You place your palm over his mouth and say, "Shut up."

For the next hour, he uses his mouth for… other reasons.

——

[heartsforjh]

i was thinking for a luke request.. the two go out to dinner and eat heaps of food & have a super cute time.

(saying this as i just went out for a huge lunch with my best friend and now am feeling super full and a bit like i’m gonna wake up 10 kg heavier🤣)

of course nonnie! sorry for the wait! 🫶 also, i need my adhd meds apparently because i completely missed the fact that this said dinner and not breakfast 🫠 i’m very sorry about that but i hope you still love it 😭

“i’m so hungry,” Luke groans, sprawled out beside you in bed.

“then go get something. get me something, too,” you mumble, not bothering to look up from your phone.

instead of moving, he lets out another exaggerated sigh and reaches over, snatching your phone from your hands. before you can protest, he quickly turns it off.

“luke!” you frown, sitting up and reaching for it, but he holds it out of your reach with ease, his long arm effortlessly keeping it away from your smaller ones.

“i don’t want any of the food in there y/n,” he whines. his voice is pitiful, and he stares back at you with a look that tells you he’s fishing for something.

you roll your eyes and sigh. “well, what do you want, then?”

“let’s go out to eat!” he exclaims, perking up like he just came up with the idea. truthfully, you know this boy has probably been plotting this since he woke up.

you groan, stretching your arms up over your head. “okay, let’s do it.”

luke’s face lights up instantly at your surrender. he jumps out of bed before pulling on a T-shirt and a pair of slides. your eyebrows raise at his choice of outfit, the corner of your lips twitching slightly.

“i’m not going out with you wearing slides and no socks,” you say, pointing at his feet.

he huffs dramatically but heads to the dresser, muttering something about you being “too picky” as he rummages through it. a few seconds later, he turns to you, frustrated.

“babe, where the fuck are all my socks?”

you let out a short, amused scoff, already expecting this. “go check the dryer, lu! there’s probably some in there.”

he disappears towards the laundry area while you quickly make yourself look presentable. once you’re finished, you flop back onto the bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. just a few minutes later, you hear the floor creak behind you.

“luke,” you say without turning around, “if you’re trying to sneak up on me, you suck at it.”

“ugh!” he groans in defeat, laughing as he walks over toward the bed. “how’d you know?”

you finally turn to look at him, a small grin present on your face. “you’re not exactly stealthy.”

he chuckles and sits beside you, pulling his socks on. you lay your head on his shoulder, tiredly. “you ready to go?”

“yes, i’m starving,” he says, getting up from the bed and grabbing his keys.

“you’re always starving.” you say with a laugh.

once you’ve both managed to pull yourselves together—luke still looking causal, but with the much needed socks this time—you head to a small diner down the street. it’s quiet and warm inside, the only noise being the faint buzz of a jukebox playing across the place.

you and luke slide into a booth and he grabs the both of you menus. “what are you getting?”

you shrug, scanning the options.

“i don’t know. the time is weird right now. it feels too late for breakfast, but too early for lunch. what do you think?”

“easy. just get both, baby,” he says confidently, already closing his menu. “that’s what i’m doing—chicken and waffles. you should match with me!”

you laugh at his enthusiasm but nod. “okay, chicken and waffles it is i guess.”

luke smiles and gently takes your menu, setting it back in the holder before reaching across the table to play with your fingers. his touch is warm and absentminded as he talks about why he chose the food like it’s a life-changing decision.

when the waitress comes, ordering is quick since you’ve already decided what you want. luke tells you about work, something funny jack said the other day, and the chaos of finding his hockey gear after it went missing in the locker room.

when the food arrives, luke’s eyes widen as if he’s just been handed gold. “oh yeah. look at this,” he says, gesturing to his plate that’s identical to yours.

“looks good,” you reply with a small laugh, endeared by how proud he is to show you his meal.

as you dig in, the chatter continues. luke pauses mid-bite to ask, “wait, what happened with your friends? the ones fighting?”

“oh, yeah! okay, so here’s the new tea…” you trail off into the story, and luke listens intently, nodding and laughing at all the right places.

eventually, you both finish eating. luke leans back in the booth, holding his stomach dramatically. “i’m so full,” he groans.

“i’m surprised,” you tease, not looking up as you sip the last of your drink.

his jaw drops, mockingly offended by your statement. “you’re so mean to me!”

you shrug, smirking. “i’m sorry, i can’t help it!”

luke shakes his head, laughing softly. “you’re so lucky i love you.”

“i know,” you smile. “now, let’s go back home. i’m still really tired.”

he nods, tossing a few bills onto the table for the check. as you step outside, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to shield you from the freezing air. his warmth and care are silent reminders of just how much he really loves you.

i really hope y’all liked this one! this is my last regular blurb before i start posting for my love language themed celly. if you haven’t requested for that but you’d like to learn more, click here! and last little announcement, i started a tag list! if you’d like to join that, you can do so here! 🫶

[deansbeer]

★ soup, snuggles, and mr. wiggles // beau arlen.

synopsis. you're sick during a visit to montana, but your dad, comes to the rescue with chicken star soup, snacks, and your old childhood stuffed bear, reminding you that you're never too old to be cared for.

warning(s). fluffy fluff fluff | older daughter!reader | caregiving dad beau | mild illness (stomach bug) | nausea | fatigue | father-daughter bonding | nostalgia | childhood memories (beloved stuffed bear & favorite soup).

kari yaps. i love my pretty cowboy sheriff sososo much && literally don't have anything written for him + this idea was perfect for beau, because one im an older sister / daughter myself & two my brain was wired up @ 2am ???? n i took that opportunity to write. but i only got halfway & BARELY got to finishing it 2day.

you knew it was a bad idea the second you bit into the chicken sandwich. something about it tasted... off, but you hadn't eaten at all during your flight from houston to montana, and your stomach didn't give you much of a choice. by the time you arrived at the airbnb you rented, you were already feeling the first signs of regret—your stomach twisting uncomfortably, your body heavy with fatigue. you chalked it up to exhaustion from the drive, but when you woke up the next morning, nausea hit you like a freight train.

you'd planned today for weeks—just you and your dad, a father-daughter day he'd been talking about nonstop since you told him you were visiting. he'd even promised emily she'd get her turn after you left because, as he put it, "this one's special. just me and my girl." and now, lying on the couch of your airbnb, wrapped in a blanket, you felt guilt gnawing at you because there was no way you could keep those plans. your stomach rolled again, and you groaned, reaching for your phone to call him.

"hey, sweetheart," he answered on the first ring, his voice bright with excitement. "you ready for me to pick you up? i've got the whole day mapped out—breakfast, a little fishing, and maybe we can stop by that trail you liked last time."

you winced, both at the enthusiasm in his voice and the wave of nausea that hit you. "uh, about that…"

he instantly picked up on your tone. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you said quickly, even though your voice was weak. "i just… i don't think i can make it today. i'm not feeling great."

"not feeling great how?" his voice lost its lightness, replaced by concern.

"it's nothing, dad. probably just something i ate. i just need to rest, that's all."

there was a pause, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "where are you staying again? that little airbnb by the creek?"

"dad, no, you don't have to—"

"i'll be there in twenty," he said firmly, already moving. "and don't even think about arguing with me."

you sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to stop him. "fine. okay, dad."

"what kind of dad would i be if i didn’t take care of my girl when she's sick?" he said, his voice softening. "sit tight, sweetheart. i'll be there soon."

true to his word, twenty minutes later, you heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling into the driveway. you managed to shuffle to the door, opening it just as he walked up, two large grocery bags in his hands and a determined look on his face.

"you look terrible," he said bluntly, though the warmth in his eyes softened the blow. "not that you're not still the prettiest thing i've ever seen."

"thanks, dad," you muttered, stepping aside to let him in. "just what every girl wants to hear."

he set the bags on the counter and turned to you, his hands on his hips. "all right, let's see what we've got here. crackers, ginger ale, that soup you used to love when you were little—chicken and stars, remember that?—and some popsicles, because you'd always ask for those when you were sick. oh, and a heating pad, in case you've got chills."

you felt a lump rise in your throat as you watched him unpack everything, his movements quick and efficient. he was always like this when you were a kid—hands-on, attentive, making sure you had everything you needed even when life got chaotic. and now, standing in your little airbnb kitchen, he looked just the same, though his beard was a little grayer and the lines around his eyes a little deeper.

"dad, you didn't have to do all this," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. "yeah, i did. you're my kid, darlin'. it doesn't matter if you're five or twenty-five, i'm always gonna take care of you."

you blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. "i suppose you're right."

he gave you a small smile before turning back to the bags. "and because i know you're gonna get crabby—don't deny it, you've always been a little bear when you're under the weather—I brought backup.” he pulled out a small stuffed bear, its brown fur worn and familiar. "found this guy in one of the storage boxes last week and figured you might need him."

you let out a surprised laugh, reaching for the bear. "oh my god, is this… is this mr. wiggles?"

"the one and only," he said, grinning. "thought he'd been retired, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

you hugged the bear to your chest, shaking your head. "you're ridiculous."

"and you love me for it," he said, nudging your shoulder gently. "now, go lie down. i'll heat up the soup and put on a movie."

you didn't argue, too tired and too grateful to protest. you curled up on the couch again, the blanket pulled snug around you and mr. wiggles tucked under your arm. a few minutes later, your dad appeared with a tray—soup, crackers, and a glass of ginger ale—and set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"all right, what's it gonna be?" he asked, grabbing the remote. "something funny? or one of those sappy movies you always make me watch?"

you smiled faintly. "sappy. but you're not allowed to complain."

"wouldn't dream of it," he said, settling into the recliner next to you. "though if i start crying, you're not allowed to tell anyone."

"deal," you said, your smile widening.

as the movie played, you found yourself relaxing for the first time all day. your dad stayed by your side, occasionally cracking jokes or making comments about the characters, his presence a constant comfort. and even though you felt awful, you couldn't help but feel a little better knowing he was there.

"thanks for coming, dad," you said softly as the credits rolled.

he reached over, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "always, sweetheart. you're stuck with your old man, whether you like it or not."

and in that moment, with the warmth of the blanket, the faint taste of ginger ale on your tongue, and your dad sitting nearby, you realized there was no place you’d rather be.

SPECIAL TAGS. @floralscented @titsout4jackles @deansbite @deanswidow @jasvtsc @beausling @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @lacydollette @lustagel @ultravi0lence14 @beausling @ostaramoon @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @bluestrd @jackleslvr @fallbhind . . . ૮っ ̫ _ ྀིა

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 010 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. infidelity. slight angst. reader is beginning to question everything she knew. reader almost drowns. toxic characters. suggestive. toxic relationships. unedited. SHIRTLESS KIYOOMI SHIRTLESS KIYOOMI

notes. the end of kiyoomi arc... mayhaps? also highly recommend listening to the linked song for this chapter and the fanmade playlist linked in the masterlist <3

wc. 8k

series masterlist 

[ TEN ] you’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burning it down. someday when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around

You underestimated Kiyoomi’s enthusiasm.

Blame it on the fact you would’ve never figured the word ‘enthusiasm’ and Kiyoomi could fit in the same sentence, but as always – the Prince was full of surprises. At precisely seven in the morning, he had knocked on your door to wake you up. Not the maid, nor the butler. The Prince himself. He’d asked you to join him for breakfast, boasting that everything was from farm to table – the cheese from the milk of his cows, the meat from his poultry, the scrambled eggs neatly placed around the plate – save for the wine he’d brought all the way from Greenville. ‘Nothing like liquor from your lands,’ he’d commented, and poured you a drink. You stifled a laughter. You hadn’t thought one could have wine for breakfast, but alas, the customs in the Palace were different. Here, you were just you, and Kiyoomi could simply be.

After breakfast, he’d given you a tour of his farmhouse, although calling it ‘house’ was entirely too humble.

Located in the countryside, surrounded by thick greenery and a dense forest with overlooking hills, Kiyoomi’s farmhouse felt like a sanctuary compared to the Palace. He didn’t even need much security, whatnot with the tall trees decorating the driveway to offer privacy. His gardens contained lush greens, and a diverse variety of flowers you hadn’t ever seen before. He knew them all by heart, even their scientific names. You teased him about it, how he was just showing off at this point, because who spews scientific names of flowers when no one asked? He took it with grace, though, or as much grace a flustered Prince could, anyway.

He’d scratched the back of his ear, looking at everywhere but you. “You spend enough time reading books and you can’t help studying everything.”

“I think it’s impressive,” you nudged his shoulder, “I’d certainly boast, too, if I had that knowledge.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “But maybe not about flowers. No one cares about flowers.”

“I do!”

“Sure,” he snorted, “As long as they’re pretty enough to look at, you’ll like them.”

“I can’t help that I like pretty things.”

“No, you can’t,” his face smoothened, and he snuck a glance at you – all too quickly before straightening up. “I certainly can’t.”

Sometimes, you wondered if Kanami made herself busy on purpose. If maybe, just maybe, she had installed cameras all around the farmhouse and giggled to herself if she could see you and her son interacting. Bent over a bed flowers, with Kiyoomi explaining their origins, and you listening intently. Or Kiyoomi introducing you to his chickens (yes, he’d named them), and then snickering (which you soon learned was his version of a laugh) when you ran away after a mother hen mistook you for a threat. Of course, you didn’t share the same sentiments of humor. The mother hen’s claws were not a laughing matter, but Kiyoomi thought otherwise. He’d simply shaken his head because he wouldn’t let any form of harm come to you, anyway.

You wished that offhanded comment didn’t make you feel so warm inside.

Being here with Kiyoomi was… Well, it was better than anything you’d expected. This was how you wished your honeymoon had been – filled with laughter, sharing in good, lighthearted conversation, and being a part of nature. Spending minutes in silence while you took in your daily dose of sunlight. Being in good company. You were glad you accepted Kanami’s offer, and you only enjoyed yourself more with each passing hour you’d made yourself acquainted with Kiyoomi and his precious farm.

And then there was that nagging voice that told you he wasn’t Rintaro.

You snorted. He definitely wasn’t. If he had been Rintaro, you would probably be in the middle of nowhere, miserable, and crying yourself until you’ve dried up like a prune. No – you didn’t want to think about him right now. It would defeat the entire purpose of this getaway. You wanted to enjoy yourself, and enjoy you did. For now, you gazed upon everything your human eyes could take in – the slope of the hills, the slight swaying of the tree leaves from the fresh breeze, the cows grazing on the grass, and Kiyoomi’s dog, Kael, herding those who went astray. Such a confusing image to paint, that of a Prince wearing his riding boots at the porch of his back garden.

“Wow,” you exhaled, following him into the stables. He’d lent you some boots, too, and was now reigning the straddle parts for the horses. “I underestimated your place. Do you own all of these lands?”

“I do,” he proudly said, and swung open the tiny, white wooden gates to reveal a tall horse with shining black fur. He chuffed upon the sight of Kiyoomi. His tail wagged, his snout reaching over just when Kiyoomi extended his palm to cup his nose. In front of you, a ghost of a smile flittered on his lips. “This is Astra. He’s mine. Had him since he was an infant; Kanami got him for me on my twelfth birthday.”

You couldn’t help but smile too. For all his grumpiness around his Mother’s fretting of him, it was clear the Prince loved her. And it was such a nice thing to see since the other Princes weren’t so lucky when it came to their mothers.

Kiyoomi beckoned you to come forward, and so you did. You were hesitant at first, because Astra was enormous. He stood at least two heads taller than you, with thick, powerful legs that could easily crush you with one kick. But Kiyoomi was there holding him close by his reigns, and you grew more confidence with each step. Smiling at him, you bravely lifted a hand to cup his face.

“Hello, Astra. You are so beautiful.”

Astra chuffed at your compliment, and Kiyoomi let out his barely audible breathy chuckles.

“He’s flattered by the compliment. And that one next to him is Lucy, his girlfriend. She’s great for beginner riders,” he was now fixing Lucy’s reigns as he spoke, adjusting the foothold before leaning over her to glance at you. “Have you ridden one before?”

“Only several times.”

Nodding, you followed as Kiyoomi led the two horses outside the barn. Astra seemed to be over the moon upon being with Lucy without being separated by their gates, chuffing and whinnying repeatedly while bumping noses with her. Lucy was much more reserved, but returned the gesture and even licked him adoringly, which made your chest ache. Gods. Now you were jealous because these horses had a healthier, more loving relationship than you.

Before you could dwell on it, however, a pair of strong arms were already lifting you up. You yelped as you rose mid-air and flailed wildly. The ground below you disappeared, and soon, you were perched on Lucy’s back, while Kiyoomi effortlessly hopped on a much taller Astra. The action seemed so natural to him as if he’d done it multiple times – and dare you say, infuriatingly attractive. The Prince had the top three buttons of his shirt undone because he’d worked a sweat chasing the chickens away from you a while ago, and his curls stuck to his forehead in a way that showcased high-chiseled cheekbones you hadn’t seen before. And… wow. He was breathtaking without realizing it. It felt wrong to think that way, to feel this way, but it was just admiration, was it not? He was a literal Prince Charming, with a dash of awkwardness, and a spritz of unexpected geekiness.

You turned away when his large, calloused, and veiny hands began stroking Astra’s mane. You’d rather not have to think about how those same strong, yet gentle hands lifted you up as if you weighed nothing, and truly, that white shirt of his did little to hide his muscular build. Clearing your throat to rid yourself of those thoughts, you tightened your grip on the reins. “Where to, my Prince?”

“To the edge of the world.”

A smirk was all he gave you before he tapped Astra with his ankles, sending the stallion running off. Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected he’d leave you behind, and you refused to be left alone. Mimicking his gestures, you tapped on Lucy and bellowed. She ran and ran, hard enough that your bottom began to feel sore, but that was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the sensation of the fresh wind whipping at your cheeks, the sun shining down on your skin, and the sounds of hooves hitting the Earth. Your racing heart matched the beat of Lucy’s footsteps as she easily caught up to a carefree Astra. She whinnied, and he responded with one of his own, making the Prince smile when you showed up beside him not a moment later – the smile on your faces proud.

“I knew you could catch up,” he shouted from over the wind, and your smile broadened.

The two of you rode aimlessly for what seemed like hours, even if it was just only minutes. Kiyoomi took you everywhere – in the middle of the forest, where you squealed as the horses ran over puddles and the dirt muddied your boots. But you found yourself unable to care. You were filled with so much glee, with so much life, that you were certain your heart was now pulsing in your arms. It was surreal how much you could see in slow motion despite the speed you were riding at. How your vision had become crystal clear as you took in the tall trees surrounding you, the deers running off and hiding when you’d ran past them. How Kiyoomi always seemed to be a few steps ahead, but always looking back to see if you’d follow him. You did, and you always would, even as he led you deeper into the forest and past the clearing.

Astra slowly skidded to a halt as you took in the scenery in front of you, and you tugged on Lucy, eyes wide open and jaw dropped. A nearly torn down fortress built of stone that was probably piled hand by hand stood before you, vines and moss growing from the walls from old age. It seemed sturdy, yet the holes and cracked towers said otherwise. It must have been centuries since someone last used this place.

“Are those castles?”

“Castle ruins,” he corrected, clicking his tongue as he led Astra to circle around the ruins. “Before Inarizaki split from Itachiyama, the first rulers set their base here.”

“So this was where the original monarchs were.”

It was the typical layout of a castle, with a flatter centre in the middle, and two, tall pillars on its side to serve as its towers. The right tower had already been destroyed, though, leaving a hole in its wake. The large wooden doors from the entrance of the castle had multiple marks on it, as if people had repeatedly tried to beat the doors down with their stakes and weapons. Black marks also decorated the stones, and judging by the empty, darkened patches of soils that was blatantly contrasting with the otherwise growing greenery around the ruins, this Castle must’ve been burnt down at some point.

“Yes, but as you can see, they’re nothing but ruins now. Inarizaki took with them whatever old rules and scriptures they had back in the old days. That’s why we still keep some traditions in our country, although its true origin was from the True Land. The old Itachiyama.”

“Traditions such as last dances on a debut ball?”

“Traditions such as that,” he agreed, rather shyly. His voice had grown distant now that he rode before you, more out of protectiveness as he peeked in the open windows. Once satisfied with what he’d seen, he jumped off Astra and walked to you, absentmindedly placing his large palm on your knee. “We can go see the ruins for ourselves, if you would like.”

Heat spread from where his hand came into contact with your skin – or leggings. Blinking back your nervousness, you reached your hands out to Kiyoomi, letting him gently place you down until you were steady on your feet.

“We are allowed? Wouldn’t that be trespassing?”

“We are royals. Technically, these are the homes of our ancestors,” he stated, and then pursed his lips when you didn’t laugh. “It was a jest. Everyone is free to roam around as they please. As I have said, Itachiyama has less rules.”

You venture inside the castle ruins, fascinated by it all. You kept thinking about what Kiyoomi said – how these were the homes of your ancestors. Once, a long time ago in history, Inarizaki and Itachiyama were united as one, huge territory. Their Kings and Queens lived here and wrote history for themselves. People roamed these hallways once, and it must have been bustling with life. These same stone staircases in which you climbed on were probably littered with torches beside the walls, with their knights guarding each mysterious and hidden door. And gods, the things done behind those doors. Did the Princesses giggle amongst themselves during tea times? Did the Princes like to sharpen their swords and had their choice of horses, as well?

Did the Kings love their Queens?

So many questions unanswered, except Kiyoomi did have answers. He satisfied your unending curiosity by telling you everything you wanted to know – that yes, Kings did love their Queens and former monarchs had many heirs and heiresses. Or how the original Castle only had a right and left wing, but the last King before the country was split in two dedicated a South wing as a burial spot for his wife, the last Queen, who had died in childbirth. He was nicknamed ‘The King of the End’ because his wife’s death led him to a dark path of war, bloodshed, and ultimately, the separation of Inarizaki and Itachiyama. He had become so cruel in his grief that he wielded his power as King wrongly; starving his people, abusing his servants, and neglecting his daughter, who had become the leader of a movement that gave way to Itachiyama becoming an independent territory. Unable to handle anymore of her father’s evil ruling, she’d banished him to Inarizaki, to the northern areas of the country, where her father continued the monarchy.

The story – heartbreaking and dark – caused the mood to dampen. You watched as Kiyoomi stopped inspecting the rooms, probably imagining for himself how this place held a lot of memories, both good and bad. He’d even made a point that he technically wasn’t a half-blood foreigner, since Inarizaki and Itachiyama all originated from one nation.

But he brushed it off, and you wondered if the Prince somehow felt alienated for being the only ‘half-blooded Prince.’ Which you found ridiculous because if that was the logic you followed, then all the Princes except Rintaro would be a half-blood for being illegitimate children. You made no other comments, however, and instead let the Prince reveal things about himself that he could in his own pace. Still, it seemed his mind had gone off a different path the quieter you got, and you nudged his shoulder, a teasing smile on his face.

 “I still can’t believe you attended my debut ball. I was a nobody at the time. To hear of a Prince coming…”

Kiyoomi looked confused.

“You were not a nobody. Your father is the kingdom’s general.”

“Yes, but we like to keep to ourselves, and Inarizaki hasn’t fought wars in decades. It isn’t like my father is an active soldier when he has no battles to partake in.”

“He is still an important figure for the Crown. Not to mention your mother comes from a family of business tycoons,” he reminded, narrowing his eyes at you in what seemed to be ridicule – more out of puzzlement than rudeness. “You truly are unaware of your influence, do you? Your family is one of the three noble families that helped Inarizaki’s kings hold the crown.”

You shrugged. You were well-aware of your family’s position in the Kingdom, but it did not feel the same. “That may be true, but I did not go out much. People did not make efforts to befriend me, either. I cannot help but think people do not care much about me.”

“All of the Princes received the invitation letter for your birthday, but we get them enough that Her Majesty discards them, or leaves it up to our judgment should we wish to go,” as if recalling the memory crystal clear, the Prince went beet-red from his neck-up. He tried to hide it by puffing out his collar, but to no avail. The redness of his skin still peeked from his shirt, and you stifled a giggle. “I had just turned twenty-one at that time, so my mother had visited. I guess you could say it was sheer luck that she chanced upon your invitation and insisted I go.”

“To establish connections and form alliances with the general’s daughter?” you cajoled.

“To find a wife, actually,” he sputtered out, “My mother worries I will die a lonely man because I do not speak with women. Or to anyone, at all.”

“You speak plenty to me.”

“Only because I enjoy your company, and our conversations are not mindless, boring politics.”

“True, but if we were back in the Palace, I would have probably talked about politics with you. Or worse, biscuits and tea. We would not have been able to talk casually about flowers, or say,” you gestured around you, “The history of our countries and all the wars caused by a man in love.”

“May history never repeat itself,” he replied drily, and you laugh.

You roamed the ruins for a little longer, noticing details like the dusty and faded portraits of the old monarchs. Some of them have been torn up, save for a portrait of a beautiful young woman who must have been the last Queen. The one buried at the South Wing.

The rooms had been emptied, too, which you found off. You expected to see at least remnants of a bed, or a study, but Kiyoomi had explained that not much survived the fire. You were enamored with everything, though, feeling like you were time travelling. And you didn’t stop exploring until you’ve turned every room upside down without bothering the evidence of history, and Kiyoomi was content to let you be. Later, when you’d both grown tired and weary of the weakening rock fortress, you returned to where you tied Astra and Lucy.

The way back home was blissfully silent. The horses were no longer running, since Kiyoomi said the sun would shine brightest at this time of day, and he wanted to take you somewhere beautiful. Letting him lead the way, he led you back inside the forest and towards a lake hidden by the tall trees. It almost felt like a gated pathway, with all the trees lined up to the side and the lake sitting smack in the middle of it all.

He was right – the sunlight made everything a hundred times more beautiful.

The water glinted, gleamed like it was made of crystals. The water was so clear you could see everything underneath, from the tiny pebbles, down to the fishes swimming underneath in all bright colors. Even your reflection smiled back at you brightly. Unable to help it, you dipped a finger into the water, fascinated by the small ripples it caused, and how the smaller fishes scurried away from the motion.

Meanwhile, Kiyoomi secured the ties of the horses around a nearby tree and opened his satchel, handing you a red apple. “I grew it myself,” he nudged the fruit towards, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

You bit down on it, and held back a moan. Gods. Was Itachiyama heaven or something? Or did fruits just taste better fresh and without preservatives? His apples were juicier than the ones you have back at home, and you were gobbling it, uncaring of the juices that ran down your wrist, leaving a sticky trail in its wake. Kiyoomi had an apple for himself, too, but he seemed too amused by your reactions to start eating his.

“So,” you leaned back on your palms, bum flat on the bank, “What do you do back in the Palace?”

“Avoid Belleview at all costs.” He casted another sideways glance your way. “Do not ask me why.”

You wouldn’t dare ask why – you both knew – but you couldn’t stop your tongue from expressing your curiosity.

“Has… has Her Majesty ever pressured you and Iris to have children?”

“That is a very personal and uncomfortable question,” he sighed, exasperated, “But to answer you, no. She could care less about us as long as we fulfill our duties and do the necessary work. I imagine the case will be different for you, though, seeing as you married her precious son.”

“She hasn’t told us anything, but on the dinners we share with her, she will imply a thing or two.”

He snorted, and took a bite of his apple. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Have you known Iris a long time?”

“No. I never even knew she existed until Her Majesty told me I was getting married,” gently, he took the leftover apple core from your hands and pulled out a handkerchief, dipping the ends of it into the water before reaching for you. You stared at him, confused, when he gestured to your palms. Realization dawned on you, and you handed him your palm. Carefully, the Prince rolled up the sleeves of your blouse all the way up to your elbows and wiped the sticky remnants of the juice with his damp handkerchief.

His actions – so gentle yet intentional – made you feel all kinds of things you shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

Yet, you couldn’t make yourself pull away from his grasp even if you wanted to.

“Why do you keep asking about her? I figured you would avoid anything that concerns her.”

You winced. “I just… I cannot help but compare myself to her. I often wonder what she has that I do not. Why Rintaro is completely smitten with her, and why he cannot love me just the same,” you admitted, thankful that the Prince has your hand in his, otherwise you’d make all sorts of flailing gestures and make yourself look more like a bumbling fool compared to the ever-so-graceful Iris. “It’s not to say I am the better choice, but have I not given him everything? I gave him my heart and soul. I vowed to spend a lifetime with him. What has she given him that I could not?”

“My brother is a fool. You cannot intellectualize a fool’s decision.”

“On the contrary, your brother is very smart.”

“Academically, maybe, but he knows nothing about life.”

“Oh, and you do?”

“I have lived longer than him.”

“Only by three years!”

“And yet it is crystal clear to me what Rintaro cannot see,” he pulled your sleeves down and stashed his handkerchief back into his satchel, leaning forward with his hand on his knee as he cast you a hard look. You couldn’t read whether it was anger, or something else entirely on his face. “He is a witless excuse of a husband, and more so of a man, because he truly deluded himself that he is in love with Iris when he is not.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Those two do not even talk,” he scoffed, “They merely use each other’s bodies as a way of getting oneself of. But I doubt Rintaro has shared anything intimate with her, and knowing Iris, she will not open her heart to him, either. At least I know very well she does not share the same affections.”

You shook your head, consciously rubbing your wrists together.

“What you speak of is impossible. They care about each other.”

“Rintaro doesn’t even know Iris is allergic to shellfish. He has tried feeding it to her plenty of times on their ‘dates.’ And Iris has not an effing clue over what Rintaro likes outside the bedroom – things that a lover should know about their significant other. What makes Rintaro smile? What makes Iris tick? They know none of that. They are not in love. They are just lonely.”

You flinched. “I was lonely, too, when I met the Crown Prince. Does that mean I was not in love, as well?”

“You are in love,” he gritted his teeth, “Hopelessly so. And I honestly wish you had chosen better. Anyone instead of him.”

You opened your mouth to retort – somehow, his words sounded like an insult. As if you were an idiot for falling for Rintaro, and even worse, for marrying him. Fine, you were stupid. Sure, you didn’t make the best decisions when you were in love, but must he be so cruel about it? His words had pierced your pride and shattered it, and you felt humiliated. So you stood up, determined to walk away from the Prince when your foot slipped on something, and the world turned upside down.

The blue of the sky shifted from the clearness of the water as you were submerged. The scream you were about to let out was lodged in your throat, and you kept sinking, sinking, sinking. You thrashed your arms out wildly as your wet clothes weighed you down. You struggled to breathe, your eyes stinging until you were pulled out of the water and hefted into Kiyoomi’s lap.

“Princess! Are you well?”

His hands were everywhere. Cracking your eyes open to ensure you were with him, his thumb brushing over your lips numb from the cold, and his other hand, warm and comforting at the small of your back. Briefly, in the haze of post-shock and the urgent need for air, you could vaguely see your bra peeking out from the white shirt sticking to you like a second skin. A pastel pink bra – and suddenly you were cold for an entirely different reason. Thankfully, Kiyoomi didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he was too much the gentleman to comment on it.

“Princess,” he tapped your cheek, and this time, you had no choice but to look him in the eye to reassure him. The Prince audibly sighed. “Thank the heavens you didn’t go too deep. Are you okay?”

Your teeth chattered, but you managed to flash him a thumbs-up.

“Th-the water is effing cold.”

Alarm painted over his features. The next thing you know, the Prince was shedding off his shirt and motioning for you to remove yours, as well. He’d already turned around before you could be embarrassed, taking his shirt from his outstretched hands. And my, was it warm. It smelled like him, too, of freshness and mint and nature. But mostly, it was dry, and you had no protests as Kiyoomi carried you once again – this time on Astra’s back instead of Lucy.

“Here, ride with me. Share my heat just until we head back to the farm.”

“O–” Kiyoomi was behind you in an instant, his chest deliciously warm as it pressed flushed against your back. Meanwhile, you burned to your core with embarrassment. He didn’t notice, though, because the Prince was too busy trying to get Lucy to follow him, all at the same time leading Astra forward with you blocking his path. He was so close his natural scent wafted off of you, something so masculine yet comforting. The muscles on his arms also flexed when he reached for Astra’s reign, and you were certain you were being tested right then and there. “–Kay.”

“Princess, can you promise me something?”

The hairs at the back of your hair stood. He sounded a lot closer than you previously thought he was. “Y-Yes?”

“You should avoid Iris at all costs. She is not who you think she is.”

You made it back to the farmhouse in half the time it took you to reach the castle ruins. Kiyoomi had been so worried over your health that he rushed back home. Eventually, he’d snapped at Lucy with such a fierce tone that the poor girl scurried forward, leaving you three behind with a heavier weight. You knew he meant well though – Lucy knew the way back home, and he figured seeing her without a rider would alert one of the servants to anticipate your arrival. True to his words, someone was already waiting.

“Oh, dear! What happened to you?!”

Kanami rushed forward just as Kiyoomi set you down. Like mother, like son – you thought. Kanami wouldn’t stop raising your limbs as if to inspect an injury, and she paled once she realized you were wearing Kiyoomi’s shirt, and her son strutted around the porch in his mighty, shirtless glory. Oh, Heavens. All that farm work really paid off. He was nicely built.

“She fell in the lake,” he responded calmly, though his frantic movements as a servant ran forwards said otherwise. “Please draw a bath for her. And make it warm. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir!” The maid scurried away.

Kiyoomi rushed inside the house first, while Kanami guided you back like you were a newborn foal unsteady on her legs. You didn’t need it, but the kind gesture was appreciated. A moment later, Kiyoomi appeared with a handful of towels.

“Th-thank you.”

“Oh, my, you poor thing,” Kanami crooned, “I will prepare dinner for the three of us. Please do join when you have made yourself comfortable, Your Highness.”

Excusing yourself, you headed upwards and took a warm bath. The tub had already been filled with vanilla and other oils, and you soaked in it, letting the hot water seep into your skin and relax your muscles. It also wouldn’t hurt to smell nice – especially when Kiyoomi always smelled delectable. But just as that thought crossed your mind, and the sight of his abs flexing while he ran around the porch looking for a maid flashed in your memory again, you dunked your head under the water. You’ve heard of cold dunks, but now, it was time for hot dunks.

You had to stop thinking about him.

Or… why should you? Was it to stay loyal to Rintaro? Did it even make sense to be loyal to someone who wasn’t? Was it a sin to be attracted to Kiyoomi when Rintaro was clearly into Iris?

You were exasperated, and by the time you’d finished your bath, the time on the clock told you that you perhaps enjoyed it a little too much. Remembering that Kanami was preparing dinner for tonight, you quickly got dressed and rushed downstairs. You were about to announce yourself when you heard two voices – the loud, clear one of a woman’s, and an aggravated, quieter voice belonging to a man. You froze in your spot, unsure if you should make yourself known. But what if they were arguing? Would that make it worse? Or maybe you should just walk away and not eavesdrop? You should respect their privacy –

“If you have something to say, just spit it out.”

“Silly boy. You could be sweeter to your mother. I cooked your favorite dinner!”

“This was my favorite five years ago.”

“Well, how would I know? You don’t tell me anything!” Kanami argued, and faster than you could blink, her aggravated tone quickly turned into a sickly-sweet one – the persuasive Kanami you knew so well. “Anyways, I just wanted to say I am very proud of you, son. I heard Her Majesty was pleased with the work you managed to finish here, and your people are very delighted to hear you have returned. I really wish you would visit more often.”

“…I will try.”

“And bring Her Highness with you, of course,” she added, and you bit your lip. You could just be imagining it, but Kanami sounded like she had another meaning to it. Like Kiyoomi was somehow by default going to invite you. “Also… speaking of the public. Well, they’re just eager to see you! Both of you! Which is why I am inviting you both to the premiere event of my latest movie-”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“Too many cameras. I don’t like it,” he tried to reason, and you heard footsteps echoing from the dining room. Without enough time to duck and hide, you plastered yourself against the wall, forcing a smile on your face when the Prince caught you red-handed. He smirked, seemingly amused, crossing his arms on his strong chest. “Let me ask the Princess herself if she’d like to go, though. If she does, I might change my mind.”

“I…I’ve never been to a premiere night. I would like to,” you smiled, albeit shyly, your gaze darting between Kanami and her son – who you think is now going to be your biggest problem. Or more like the things he was making you feel was becoming the problem.

“Then it is settled! I’ll bring my stylists over and we will all get ready for tomorrow’s event,” she announced, circling the dining table as she pumped her fists in the air. “Oh, you guys will be the talk of the whole country for weeks! This is going to be great!”

“I look forward to seeing your movie, Kanami.”

“Oh, and don’t forget! You’re each other’s dates,” she winked, and just like that, all hell broke loose.

For a country that claimed to not indulge in the luxuries, Kanami’s premier night could rival that of a Prince’s birthday ball. A red carpet. A hundred photographers, with even more journalists and interviews. Celebrities were everywhere you looked. This night was the definition of a night to be remembered, with all the flashing lights on you that it was actually blinding. Apparently, the public had caught wind that Prince Kiyoomi, and you, a Princess of Inarizaki and a potential Queen, would be attending, so the crowd doubled in size in anticipation. It wasn’t often their lovely Prince made an appearance to public events solely catered for media and entertainment. It was even more baffling he brought a Princess with him – one that wasn’t his wife.

At first, you were anxious they might not like you. You were the date of their Prince, and he wasn’t your husband – but the crowd cheered and screamed as you left the car, your gloved arm looped around Kiyoomi’s. He was extra handsome tonight – his curls gelled back, revealing a handsome face sculpted by the Gods themselves, and he wore a tailored suit nothing short of extravagant.

Kanami’s team did great making you look beautiful too. And dare you say, you felt confident enough to be standing next to the Second Prince. You wore a sleeveless champagne colored dress that hugged your figure well, with a fur cloak wrapped around your shoulders. A Bvlgari Serpenti Viper necklace hang on your neck, a gift from Kanami before she left first for the event. It was a simple look – nothing too flashy, and yet you could tell the difference from your usual outfits were you to show up in royal events.

Firstly, you wouldn’t be allowed to show this much skin. The amount of collarbones exposed for the world to see would have Her Majesty in a cardiac arrest. And the necklace you wore wasn’t dainty or minimal enough – by Her Majesty’s standards. The fur cloak would have her in shambles, too, but somehow, you couldn’t care that much.

Kiyoomi couldn’t tear his gaze off of you, and the cameras flashed at each move you made. Every blink, every smile, every nervous graze of your finger against Kiyoomi’s arm.

The last time people had noticed you this much and showed their love for you was when you married Rintaro. The only difference was you didn’t feel this exhilarated. On that day, you only felt miserable. Like your entire hurt was on display for the world to see. That your heartbreak was being broadcasted worldwide, and the smiles Rintaro sent your way was scripted, perfected for the cameras.

Kiyoomi wasn’t like that.

Kiyoomi wasn’t like him.

He never looked at the cameras once. He only had his eyes on you, and when he spoke, he did so behind your earrings, as if he was aware people could read his lips and this moment was private. It was just you and him, and not even the watchful, inquisitive eyes of the world could take this away from you. He made you feel safe, utterly protected even when presented for everyone to judge and criticize.

“If you wish to leave at any point, tell me and I will take you away from here.”

His voice, deep and smooth and gentle, sent shivers down your spine. It felt oddly intimate taking photos with him like this, how his arms had snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him. How he would always speak secretively, yet the slight curling of his lips would be open for the cameras to witness. How his fingerless ring sits comfortably at your hip, and you were leaning against him, smiling at the cameras whilst he smiles at you. The moment was utterly sensitive that you feared one wrong move could undo it all.

And you wouldn’t let it.

Turning your head to the side, you leaned up to whisper at him. “Thank you, but I think I will enjoy myself tonight.” You kept your voice low like his, spoke your words slowly as if you were treading on icy ground, and when you pulled away, you noticed you’d left a smear of your lipstick on the tip of his ear.

You didn’t tell him to wipe it away.

You didn’t stop when he held your hand. You didn’t tear your gaze away from him when he led you inside the building, and neither did you tell him to stop when he kept his arm around your waist until you’d found your seats. Admittedly, you couldn’t focus on the movie. It was difficult when you could feel Prince Kiyoomi’s gaze on you – how braver he seemed when in the dark. You feign ignorance to it all, or more like you tried, because you lightly pinched his thigh and told him to focus on the movie. For a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you. But then he turned his head away and you both watched his mother’s romance film – which, thankfully, she isn’t the love interest in. It would be extremely awkward if she was. But it was still a rather intense romance film – a forbidden relationship between a man and his best friend’s wife.

Kiyoomi shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You were now at the scene where the female main character and her lover, her husband’s best friend, were under the rain. They had gotten into an argument – the woman didn’t want to continue their relationship anymore, didn’t want to have to continue lying to those close to her, but the man was having none of it.

He loved her.

He’s loved her for a long time.

He loved her first.

And he knew damn well her husband wasn’t treating her right. They only got married anyway because he had gotten her pregnant at a university party, and things went downhill from there. But he could only handle so much. He could only endure so much. Eventually, all the love he’d been holding back had grown too much it had poured out from his veins. He would run after her, chase her, and follow her wherever she went. She had his heart from the moment he laid his eyes on her. He wouldn’t give up on her now.

But it was wrong – she knew it was.

You gripped the edge of your seat.

The man, broken and down to his knees, professed his love to her. His tears were flowing down his face on time with the rain, and the woman… Well, she was devastated for a lack of better words. She didn’t like her marriage. She didn’t even like her husband. But what would people say? They wouldn’t understand. They would only see her as a lowly woman who cheated on her husband, with his best friend of all people. They would never see her pain, or how she, too, craved to be loved the way she loved others.

No matter what she said, the man was never swayed. He would fight for her. He would be brave for her. And then he stood up, took her face into his palm, and kissed her. Your eyes grew wide. The kiss was too intense it was hard to believe it was only acting. No, he kissed her like he was consuming her soul, like he was breathing her in. Like he was the air she needed to live, and without her, he would be nothing. And when she kissed him back, she had melted. Like all of pins and needles she used to hold herself up withered away because there was no need to be strong when she knew he would always catch her, that he would be there to be her pillar, her strength, her fortitude.

You looked away from the kiss. Beside you, Kiyoomi had turned his gaze away from the screen, too, and his eyes were so dark it was hard to see him at all. But you knew he was looking at you. And something about his gaze seemed forbidden – felt like a secret. Because in this theater, everyone had their eyes on the screen, completely unaware that the Prince held the same intensity in his eyes when the man kissed his beloved.

Your lips tingled.

Your fingertips curled, aching, itching to reach out to him. He was right there – just within your reach. You could run your hands through his thick, dark curls. You could stare into those dark eyes and get lost within them. It wasn’t love – no, not really. But it was the beginning of something more, and you didn’t know what was louder – your heartbeat or the cheers of the audience as the movie came to an end.

And then the realization struck you –

You wanted Kiyoomi to kiss you.

The lights flashed on. The audience cheered and applauded. The moment was broken.

You looked back to the stage, feeling cold dread wash over you. You couldn’t believe it. You had thought of a different man that wasn’t your husband in ways that were… inappropriate. Is this what Rintaro felt? When he looked at Iris, did he feel this need to have his lips on her? Did he yearn for her? But what could this mean? Were you falling for Kiyoomi? It couldn’t be. It’d only been a week. You were great friends – yes, friends! And friends didn’t go around kissing each other. Friends didn’t want their friends to kiss them.

But you had wanted him to, anyway, and now your dress felt suffocating.

Wordlessly, you stood up from your seat. You headed for the exit, or the restroom, you were unsure. All you knew was that you had to leave. You turned away from everyone who greeted you, pushed away anyone who asked for a photo, and your blood ran cold. What would the tabloids say? That you were a rude Princess? You were sure you look like a madman running out of the theatre when the night had barely even begun. Maybe you looked like a criminal caught in the middle of her act – and what crime? Adultery.

Tears pricked at your eyes. You willed them away, because you didn’t want to ruin your makeup. But you just… This was all a mistake. You should have never come to Itachiyama.

He was your husband’s brother!

You pushed the doors open, arms raised to call for a driver when a flash of lights bombarded you. It stung, blinding you for a moment until you stumbled back. A horde of reporters were shoving their phones and microphones in your face before you could process anything. You pushed back to the crowd, begging for reprieve, but there were too many of them, and only one of you. They all screamed your name, chanted your title, and in the midst of it all, you heard Rintaro’s name being spoken.

“Please,” you insisted, “I just want to get back to my car. Please, let me–”

“Your Highness! Princess!” a reported shoved his way through the crowd, his microphone hitting your lip hard enough that your teeth ached. Shit. You lowkey missed the strict customs in Inarizaki – people wouldn’t be so comfortable being in your personal space otherwise. But the reporter’s next words made your stomach drop.

“Did you visit here with Prince Kiyoomi as payback?”

“I – excuse me?”

Stunned into silence, you stared back at the man demanding answers from you. There was a crazed look in his eyes, his free hand clutching a camera that had taken multiple photos at the look of surprise in your face. Your sweat turned cold, and you took a step back. You headed back for the building, only to collide with a firm chest and a familiar scent washing over you. Before you could do anything, Kiyoomi had spun you around to face him, your head tucked in his neck as he pushed through the crowd. “Out of my way!”

You clung onto him like a child. You close your eyes, letting him shoulder all the pushing and shoving, all to keep you safe within his hold. The entire way back to the car, Kiyoomi bellowed at the people to give way for the both of you, and you’d never heard him sound so angry. Yet, you didn’t feel scared – at least, not of him.

The night was just taking an unexpectedly wrong turn, and you weren’t sure how much more you can handle.

“Kiyoomi,” you cried into his chest, “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared.”

“Do not answer them. Those are reporters and journalists crazed for the latest gossip.”

“Princess! Is it true your marriage is falling apart? Are you here in Itachiyama because of what the Crown Prince did? Answer us, Princess! What will be the future of the throne?”

The car came into view. Kiyoomi’s security team formed a barricade around you to allow you safe entry inside the car, puffing out their chests and shoving away anyone who dared tried to follow. Once inside, Kiyoomi barked on the driver to just move, and the car sped away. Your breathing slowly stabilized, but you were still far from being composed. In front of you, Kiyoomi had his hands balled into fists at his knees, his jaw clenched so tight you feared he’d pop a vein.

“Kiyoomi. What is going on? What were they talking about?”

Kiyoomi visibly relaxed at the sound of your voice. Dragging a hand down his face, he sighed, reaching for a tablet tucked away behind the seats and clicked on something. Then, he handed the tablet to you – and all your worst fears had now come to life. All the secrets you buried, the lies you’d kept – none of it was hidden anymore.

Trending for the past hour was an article recently published by a man named Kuroo Tetsurou, headlined ‘CROWN PRINCE RINTARO AND PRINCESS IRIS: LOVERS WITHOUT THEIR SIGNIFICANT OTHER?’

The headline photograph was taken from a window, the photo blurry yet all the details were clear enough. Rintaro, on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his dress shirt unbuttoned and falling down on his shoulders. Iris, on top of him, bare with only her chest censored by a thick, black line. She was kissing him, her hands looped around her neck. Rintaro held her tightly, too, like he was afraid of letting her go – his hand with your wedding ring on it cupping her cheek as he kissed her back. On his neck were multiple hickeys, and her hair let loose and wild.

You felt like you stopped breathing entirely.

“Sir,” mumbled the driver nervously, “Are we going back to the farmhouse?”

“No. Head for the airport. We’re going straight to the palace.”

“But… Sir, your mother is still at the-”

“Kanami will understand,” grunted Kiyoomi, who suddenly snatched the tablet from you and shut it off. You didn’t know whether to be thankful or not. Quite frankly, you didn’t know what to feel. You felt numb and about to go insane all at the same time. Kiyoomi was more composed, at least, but it seemed he knew about this earlier and came running after you. Sighing, he loosened his tie and leant back against his seat.

“We need to go back to Inarizaki.”

You swallowed. You knew it now – you weren’t any better than Rintaro in the photos. But you could be honest, you could tell the truth, you could make it all better and stop it before it gets worse.

“Kiyoomi,” you trembled, spinning your wedding ring around your finger. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

The Second Prince shut his eyes. His placid face a contrast to his fists tightening even more. “Don’t,” he said, his voice sounding more resigned. Funny, how he was inches away from you, and he suddenly felt so far away when he opened his eyes – and you couldn’t recognize the man sitting in front of you anymore. “Whatever it is, just don’t.”

[byuntrash101]

damnation of a saint (teaser)

pairing — nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3

a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3

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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn���t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.

a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

[42ap]

Talking about the differences in their relationship with desire again, I think it's fascinating how this difference influences their actions.

Stanley usually finds it relatively easy to get what he wants, and he doesn’t want that many things to begin with. Because of this, whenever he does want something, he acts on it immediately and with great enthusiasm to satisfy that desire. Want an electronic badger? Go out after dark and steal one—that kind of thing.

At first glance, it might seem like Stanley spends a lot of time chasing after what he wants, making him appear “greedy.” But in my view, for someone who doesn’t want much to begin with, accepting and pursuing desire is simply an enjoyable experience. You act, you get what you want, and you’re happy—it’s a positive cycle. It’s like how a 16-year-old craving fried chicken is an everyday, even unhealthy, occurrence. But an old lady with no teeth craving fried chicken? If she gets to eat it, everyone around her would be happy for her, because having a desire, and being able to easily fulfill it, is already a joyful thing. Not every old lady is so lucky—just a couple of bites of fried chicken can make her day.

For Stanley, pursuing his desires is undoubtedly a positive feedback loop. Especially after turning 30, when his life stabilized, things generally went well—except for anything related to Ford. Everything else he wanted, he could get. And if getting what he wanted made him happy, then of course he would keep chasing after those things immediately.

Ford, on the other hand, is completely different. He wants too much. He is always chasing after something, always pursuing a dream. But as soon as he gets what he wants, it loses its value because it’s now within reach, and new desires take its place, always distant and unattainable. Everything must feel terrible for him because, in his eyes, he has never truly gotten anything he wanted.

So his relationship with desire is deeply negative. To him, "wanting something" is a feeling that must be fought against—because desire comes with risk, consequences, and lack of control. It doesn’t bring happiness. Trying to fulfill desires only leads to exhaustion (though he is still hopelessly hooked on his “save the world” dream). Whenever a new desire arises, he locks it away in a mental prison, refusing to even look at it. He doesn’t evaluate whether it’s realistic or not, whether it’s saving the world or just a better-tasting cup of coffee—it all gets thrown into the same cell.

But not actively pursuing desires and not thinking about what one wants are two different things. If someone hands him a cup of coffee he wants, Ford wouldn’t refuse it. I think he has simply lived so long believing he can never have what he truly wants that he’s developed a kind of learned helplessness—or, to put it in a more flattering way, caution. He doesn’t really not want things.

If someone takes the first step, throws the opportunity in front of him, and he sees that it’s actually achievable, Ford would be the type to fully commit to making it happen. He has an incredible ability to act, a terrifying level of persistence, and the patience to see things through.

Honestly, I’m just saying all this because I really love the idea of old Stanley realizing he has feelings for Ford. At first, he’s happy but cautious, carefully testing the waters. But then he finally discovers that Ford has always liked him, has never stopped liking him—not just now, but since they were kids. He never truly let go of those feelings.

It’s just such a good flavor.

[kefiteria]

Moonlight Echoes

character: scaramouche x reader

tags: fluff, established relationship, stargazing

summary: stargazing with scara + heart to heart conversation🩵 + reassuring scara

Scaramouche let out an exaggerated sigh, his snark practically dripping from every word. “Don't move too much now, or you'll fall, and trust me, I won't catch you if you did fall.” he remarked, his tone laced with sarcasm as he balanced precariously on the branch with you.

Rolling your eyes at his typical attitude, you couldn't help but marvel at the view. The rainforest stretched out beneath you, a vast expanse of greenery illuminated by the moonlight. “It's so tall, and I can see the whole rainforest here! WOAH LOOK, THE MOON IS SO BIG TOO, reminds me of a rice cracker!” you exclaimed, excitement evident in your voice as you pointed out the celestial sights.

Scaramouche sighed again and wrapped his arms around your waist, out of affection. “What a hassle. Such noise would attract many hidden preying eyes.” he grumbled, his snark cutting through the night air like a sharpened dagger.

“Like monkeys?” you teased, earning an exasperated eye roll from Scaramouche.

“Yes, monkeys. Just like you.” he retorted, his snide remark punctuated by a heavy sigh.

But your enthusiasm was undeterred as you pointed out the constellation Orion. “Look at Orion, isn't it incredible? It's like a celestial warrior, standing proud at the night sky. Maybe the monkeys will not be here because of Orion protecting us both!” you exclaimed, hopeful despite Scars's cynicism.

“I hate to break it to you, but Orion doesn't exactly have a good reputation in Greek mythology. So, don't even bother looking up at that constellation.” Scaramouche interjected, his snark evident in every syllable.

Undeterred, you suggested creating your own constellation. “Perhaps we should just connect the stars and make our own constellations then?” you proposed, pointing to the sky with enthusiasm.

“And what would it be?” Scaramouche asked, raising an eyebrow in mild interest.

“Probably chicken mushroom skewers or Mondstadt Grilled Fish shaped?” you grinned mischievously, earning another eye roll from your partner.

“I should've expected that coming from that brain of yours.” Scaramouche muttered, his snark reaching new heights.

You turned the question back on him with a curious look. “What about you? If you could make a new constellation, what would it be?”

After a moment of contemplation, Scaramouche replied, “Probably the tiniest star. I'll pick it and make it as the sole constellation.”

Confused by his choice, you pressed for more explanation. “Huh? I don't get it. How can one single star be a constellation?”

Scaramouche sighed, realizing he couldn't escape your relentless curiosity. “Constellations are patterns of stars that are named and recognized as distinct groupings by people. They're often based on mythological figures, animals, or objects. So, if I want it to be a constellation, then it shall be.” he explained, reluctantly delving into the topic.

“Yeah, but you still haven't explained why you chose a single tiny star to be your choice of constellation.” you pointed out, looking at him expectantly.

Knowing he couldn't avoid the question any longer, Scaramouche begrudgingly elaborated, “Everyone wants the brightest star to be their guiding star. Everyone wants to create a memorable constellation for future generations to look up to. I want something that only belongs to myself, so I'll choose a tiny star and elaborate it in my own eyes.” His words dripped with his trademark snark, leaving you with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“And how would it be?” you asked as you tilted your head.

Scaramouche smirked, his snarky demeanor returning full force. “Oh, it would be magnificent, of course.” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “A constellation so small and insignificant that only the most discerning eyes could even notice it. But to those who do, it would symbolize independence, resilience, and a refusal to conform to the expectations of others.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his dramatic description. “So, basically, it would be the epitome of your personality?” you teased, earning a playful glare from Scaramouche.

“Exactly.” he said with a smirk, his snark momentarily replaced by a hint of pride. “After all, why settle for blending in when you can stand out in your own unique way?”

You nodded, impressed by his answer. “I guess everyone sees the stars differently, similar to how everyone sees you differently.” you remarked, reflecting on the conversation.

Scaramouche grinned, his snark softened by a rare moment of genuine warmth. “Well, aren't you full of surprises?” he quipped, before quickly adding, “but don't let it go to your head.”

As you glanced up at the night sky, Scaramouche's eyes followed yours, lingering on the stars above. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of something in his expression, as if hinting that maybe, just maybe, you could be a constellation in his own private sky. But before you could dwell on the thought, his trademark smirk returned, and he brushed off the moment with a casual remark, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it all.

Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours, his gaze remained fixed on the celestial canvas above, as if drawing strength from the vastness of the universe. “I wanted to be your tomorrow so I lived today, the past and future.” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with a profound sincerity that touched your heart.

“I'm happy… truly.” you replied, returning his warm smile as you too turned your gaze upward, feeling a sense of connection to something greater than yourselves.

“Ever since the first day I saw you until now, in my heart, it’s only you. Every time I look up at the night sky, it reminds me of you. Anything around me makes me want to treasure you.” Scaramouche confessed, his words carrying a weight of affection that resonated deeply within you.

Scaramouche's tender touch sent a shiver down your spine, his fingers tracing delicate patterns across your skin as he leaned in closer, his breath warms against your cheek. In that intimate moment, his words hung in the air, heavy with emotion and vulnerability.

“But such words are commonly uttered, I want to say something new too… something that you've never heard…” he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

With a gentle smile, you reached up to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jawline. “That's alright though, I love and accept any affection you want to give me in any way, shape, and form.” you reassured him, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed into his eyes, reflecting the depth of your feelings.

“Because they’re such common words, I was worried they wouldn’t sound sincere… please… reassure me,” he choked out, his grip tightening slightly.

Feeling Scaramouche's vulnerability in the trembling of his touch, you gently caressed his cheek, your thumb soothing the tension that lingered there.

“Scaramouche,” you whispered, your voice soft yet steady, “every word you speak carries the weight of your sincerity. And currently, as you bare your heart to me, I feel the depth of your emotions echoing in every syllable.”

Leaning in closer, you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, a gesture of reassurance and understanding. “Your love is not measured by the novelty of your words, but by the authenticity of your intentions.” you murmured, your breath mingling with his in the space between you. “And in my heart, your affection will always ring true, no matter how familiar the words may be.”

Sensing the tension ease from his frame, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as if to shield him from the doubts that plagued his mind. “So, let go of your worries, my dear.” you whispered, your voice a soothing melody in the silence of the night. “For in my arms, you will always find the reassurance you seek, and in my love, you will always find solace.”

Scaramouche's lips brushed against your knuckles, a tender gesture of affection, his words resonated in the quiet of the night. “You taught me how to love in this world that failed me.” he confessed, his voice carrying a depth of gratitude that touched your soul.

“Thank you, my love.” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. With a soft smile, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle yet profound. Beneath the shimmering moonlight and the canopy of stars, his lips pressed against your forehead in a gentle kiss, a silent expression of gratitude and love.

[ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal]

Don’t ever tell yourself that you’re not enough, I am certain that you’re truly fine

PART TEN

Ot8 x reader

Word count: 559

Just a warning, this is my first fanfic! Does have age regression themes so if you’re not a fan, I ask that you respectfully just don’t read <3 also this will definitely have some angst

!THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!

Jisung was freaking out, out of all of them, you choice him to be your daddy???? He was in between interviews, but he feels he needs to take the next interview out his schedule because his little girl called him daddy, him, Han jisung. “I’m here baby, daddy’s here.” He finally responds after a while, after realizing he never responded.

You sniffle softly, “miss daddy” you say with a slightly slurred tone.

“Oh bubs, daddy misses you too” Han says, trying to steady his voice so he doesn’t let it be known that he’s now crying. “You want to tell daddy about your day?”

This only led to you crying a bit more, which makes Han panic which draws attention towards the others. “What’s going on?” Seungmin ask, along with “who are you talking too?”

“Baby, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? So the others can hear, okay?” Han ask gently and once he received a small ‘okay’ he put it on speaker.

Once on speaker, Seungmin can hear your cries and immediately looks at Han. “What did you say to make her cry?” He automatically accuses which makes Han shake his head and quickly says “I didn’t do anything.”

“Stop fighting,” you say while still crying, your voice shaky. “Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

Seungmins eyes widen, “d-did she say ‘daddy’?” He says with his voice quiet, looking at Han for answers. Han looks at Seungmin, nodding, his eyes slightly bright.

“He isn’t being mean to Daddy, Princess.” Han assures you, not missing Seungmin’s look of surprise on his face. “Now…” Han takes a breath, “you want to tell Daddy what has you all upset?”

You sniffle, your nose feeling stuffy. “Work…” you lisp out quietly, and you sniffle again, “missed yall.”

“We miss you too, bubs.” Seungmin speaks up, softly and comforting. Before he can say anything else, a voice cuts him off “what are you two doing? We have an interview in less than five minutes… wait who are yall talking to?”

Your eyes widen, instantly knowing whose voice that was. “Min Min!” You say instantly, as if Minho was the only way to stop your tears, but he can still hear your stuffy nose and the alight shake in your voice.

Minho looks at Han and Seungmin, then focuses on the phone, “hi my little love.” He then looks at Seungmin, “go tell Channie that we aren’t doing the interview.”

Without questioning, Seungmin goes which just leaves Han and Minho on the phone call with you…

Time goes by, and the interview was long canceled. The boys are all gathered in a hotel room, Hans phone is propped up while on FaceTime with you.

“So Changbin Hyung betted us that he can eat the whole chicken-“ Felix is telling you a story with enthusiasm. “In which I did!” Changbin cuts Felix off, causing Hyunjin to shake his head, “liar” he says to Changbin, causing everyone to laugh, your giggles fill the air.

Chris watches the boys and you interacting with a smile on his face. He loves that you are so comfortable to show this carefree side of yourself with them and that the guys all accept this part of you. After a while, he grabs his phone out and orders you dinner to get delivered, knowing you probably didn’t eat much today.

(If anyone has request for future chapters or just one shots, fill free to let me know!)

(Taglist is open)

TAGLIST: @puppyminnnie @galaxy4489 @xxeiraxx @yunhospuppy

[valiantstarlights]

Hob is a chef who owns a food truck selling authentic Indian food, and Dream is someone who doesn't really eat well. (He had a bad breakup a year ago and it caused him to eat less. He's trying to eat better with his siblings' help.)

Dream agrees to go with Death to one of those food truck fairs for her birthday. There's not a lot of people yet so some of the staff offer them free samples to entice them into eating more from their food truck.

Death is having the time of her life, and she thanks Dream for going with her even if this isn't his thing at all.

Dream says that he enjoys the atmosphere (a.k.a. no huge crowds yet) and appreciates the aesthetic of the food they have already eaten: the understated elegance of the mango bingsoo, the dancing bonito flakes on top of the takoyaki, and the satisfying cheese pulls from the megruli khachapuri.

Death, encouraged by his interest, asks him to pick another food that he likes the aesthetic of so they could try it next. Like before, it's understood that they'll share a serving so Dream doesn't have to worry if he can't eat a lot.

Dream agrees. He picks an appetizing-looking plate of butter chicken from a foodtruck selling Indian food near the edge of the fair grounds, where not a lot of people have ventured yet.

They are greeted enthusiastically by a very handsome man and Death does all the talking because Dream is distracted by his forearms and smile and manbun. (He's salivating, so he must be hungry. Right?)

The handsome man turns out to be both the chef and the owner, and he chats with Death while he prepares the food. His name is Hob. He quit his job at a fancy hotel because he wants to feel more connected with his customers and share the food that he loves cooking for his family. (Dream is falling for him the more he talks. He doesn't realize that he has yet to speak and has only been staring.) (Hob is highly intimidated by him but also thinks he's cute.)

The food is served. Death takes her first bite and says something like 'holy shit dude wow this is great' and Hob is just about to thank her when Dream takes his first bite and lets out the most sinful moan Hob has ever heard this side of his laptop screen.

He is (understandably) frozen in place, staring at this beautiful man devour his food while sounding like a porn star. He may or may not be violating food safety standards by getting hard in his jeans in the truck's kitchen area.

Death is astonished because Dream has never shown this much enthusiasm while eating before. Even when they were kids. She is now looking at Hob speculatively. Should she google 'how to politely ask a stranger to (please) marry your brother'?

Dream...honestly doesn't even notice anything other than how delicious the food tastes. When the plate is clean, and Death has only gotten to take that single bite at the start, he reddens and apologizes, but Death waves it off, and Hob says something like, "I have some dessert too, if you want."

Dream unconsciously licks his lips and says, "Please," in a voice that could either mean 'Yes, please, I want some dessert,' or 'Fuck me raw right now.'

Death, immediately picking up on the sexual tension, says, "We'd like some kulfi, but I'll take mine to go."

And Dream is like, "Sister, what--?"

"I just remembered Desire and I have an appointment to get our nails done so I have to go--oh, thanks, Mr. Gadling--bye Dream, love you, be safe!" And then she's gone.

Dream is left with Hob who is still holding the other kulfi in his hand, looking slightly stunned at Death's very abrupt exit. The kulfi is starting to melt. Dream, unthinkingly, leans forward and sucks the tip.

They both freeze and their eyes meet, Dream's pink mouth still on the kulfi. Hob gulps at the visual. Dream, still maintaining eye contact, licks it from base to tip, then starts sucking in earnest, eyes steadily darkening when he sees Hob's breathing becoming unsteady.

Hob hears some footsteps coming their way, potential customers from the sound of it. Hob hands Dream his kulfi and apologizes to the customers, saying that something came up and he has to close. Like, right now. Sorry for the inconvenience but this is really important.

He closes up in record time while Dream taunts him by enjoying his dessert. He's already sitting on the passenger seat of the truck when Hob climbs into the driver's seat.

Desire's text the next day reads: 'DREAM YOU SLUT IM SO PROUD OF YOU'

Destruction for some reason knows Hob's number and has texted: 'Break my brother's heart and I'll break your spine.'

Dream slowly but surely begins to eat better. How can he not, with all the support he has, and Hob there to love him even on his bad days?

Hob gets everyone's approval, even Destruction's, eventually. He's the best cook and most considerate brother-in-law ever.

When Dream passes by his ex while walking down the street one day, he realizes that he's alright now, and is definitely better off without them. He's actually thankful, because if not for them, then he might not have even met Hob. He doesn't greet them because he still hasn't forgiven them, but he also doesn't feel like bursting into tears anymore.

At the end of the day, when he gets back home, Hob is there to welcome him with a sweet kiss, a warm meal, and a lifetime full of love.

[lionlena]

Llamas don't drink whiskey... (JackDanielsxf!reader) one shot

Summary: Jack allows you to have many animals on his ranch, but will he allow llamas?

Warnings: fluff, a lot of fluff, a tiny bit of smut

Llamas don't drink whiskey

A few weeks after you became Jack's fiancée, he asked you to move to his ranch. You agreed immediately because you saw only the advantages. First of all, you could be closer to your beloved Cowboy. Always wait for him when he returns from his mission. Secondly, it was a good opportunity to get to know each other even better before the wedding and introduce your own changes. Although you didn't want to change his home too much, because the truth was that you loved Jack's ranch. It was wonderful, just like in the picture.

And there was a third reason: ANIMALS.

You loved animals, but you could never keep them because first your stepsister was allergic, so your parents didn't let you have pets. When you were a student, you didn't have this option either, and then, the owners of the apartments you rented didn't agree to keep animals. So it had to be enough for you to help at the animal shelter and take care of your friend's pets.

But that finally changed. Because there were animals on Jack's ranch (your ranch) and you could have kept more.

Jack was happy to make your dreams come true. Your happiness was his happiness. So you already had your own horse, dog, cat, Vietnamese pig... Jack agreed to everything.

"You want chickens, Sugar. You'll have chickens."

"You want to have rabbits, Sugar. You're going to have rabbits."

However, your last request was not met with such enthusiasm. You were lying on the couch together. You on Jack with a satisfied face after riding him. You were both catching your breath after you both reached your climax. His cock was still twitching inside you as you blurted out:

"Can we have a llama?"

Jack opened his eyes and looked at you as if you had asked for a giraffe.

"What are you gonna do with a llama, huh? You just want to get one for the aesthetic?"

You looked at him offended and pouted:

"No... Cuddling a llama cures anxiety and calms you down. They are great therapy animals."

Jack chuckled at that. He had never even considered a llama as a suitable therapy animal. But then, his mind switched gears, and he raised his eyebrow.

"But can you even ride a llama?"

You started laughing as you imagined it. Your Cowboy on a llama.

"I don't think you can ride on llamas... They might be pack animals, I guess."

"So why do you need a llama?" He replied jokingly.

You shook your head, knowing full well that he was teasing you.

"You can't ride dogs, or chickens, or even cows, but we keep them."

Jack smiled and stroked your hair.

"The dog guards the ranch, the chickens give eggs, the cows give milk, and the llamas..."

"And llamas bring comfort."

Jack laughed and looked into your beautiful eyes. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist your request for long. He loved you too much.

"So you want a llama for therapeutic purposes, right? That means you have to cuddle a giant llama every time you feel anxious or stressed. Could you do that? Would a llama even be a good cuddle partner? I mean, it has a neck, long neck, and such a goofy little face."

"A llama is a great cuddle buddy… Llamas are so cute and…" You stroked his cheek. "I think you're kind of like a llama."

"I am?" He asked, raising his eyebrows playfully. It was obvious that he wasn't annoyed by this strange comparison, after all, he was so in love with you that nothing could make him mad at you. "So... you're going to cuddle with me to relieve your stress, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes." You said and hugged him tightly. "You're perfect for cuddling."

That's what he wanted to hear. He protected and cared for you, and he didn't mind at all that you treated him like a comfortable pillow. On the contrary, it gave him incredible happiness. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him as if you were a precious treasure.

"You can come and cuddle with me whenever you want, Sweetheart."

You sighed in contentment and kissed his neck.

"So... Can I have llamas?"

He laughed when you asked again. It seemed like your obsession with llamas was even bigger than his obsession with you. But he was ready to fulfill this request as well.

"Of course, you can have a llama, princess. I won't even argue with your request. I'll buy you the biggest and best llama. A male llama too, in case you'd be happy knowing you'll have a little llama guy to cuddle with when you're stressed."

You giggled happily and looked into his eyes lovingly.

"You're the best."

And those were the words that immediately made him smile broadly, his heart swelling with love for you and pride in himself. He loved it when his Sugar was happy because it meant his happiness. He wanted nothing more than to live with you on your ranch. And he didn't mind that this ranch was slowly turning into a mini zoo.

He imagined that maybe one day there would be a little cowboy running among all these animals... Or a little princess.

He kissed your head and purred softly:

"You'll get your llama."

*

A month later, four llamas appeared on your ranch because: "Jack, a llama can't live alone, they need a herd."

So you had three females and of course one male. Each llama was different. One was all white, the second was white and brown, and the third was black. The male, named Cobalt, was light-colored with brown dots and... You couldn't help but think he was making exactly the same faces as Jack. You even bought him a little cowboy hat and secretly called him Jack.

Of course, Whiskey still pretended that llamas were unnecessary and that they were of no use.

However, one day you caught him hugging one of them. You entered the stable quietly and leaned against the doorframe, watching your beloved pet the llama's neck. The day before, he had returned from a hard mission and had apparently discovered the therapeutic properties of llamas.

You cleared your throat and he immediately moved away from the llama and scratched his head.

"What... I just came to feed them... She stuck to me herself."

"Of course, Jack." You replied and giggled. "So, llamas aren't that useless."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He started stroking the llama's neck again.

"They're not that bad, but they have one major flaw." You raised your eyebrows, intrigued. "They don't drink whiskey."

You started laughing loudly. Of course, it was all Jack. He had to find some flaw, no matter how absurd. He couldn't just admit that he liked llamas.

"Oh yeah... Llamas don't drink whiskey." You repeated and walked over to him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his broad chest. After all, he was always your first choice when it came to cuddling.

Jack immediately hugged you back and kissed your head.

"But you know who drinks whiskey?" You started talking. "Me. So I can be your companion."

He chuckled softly and pulled you closer to him.

"You are the best companion." He whispered into your ear. "For everything, not just drinking whiskey."

You felt yourself getting pleasantly warm. You grabbed his hand.

"Let's get out of here. Llamas shouldn't have to witness what happens after drinking whiskey."

Jack laughed loudly and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Of course, Sugar! Leave the llamas... You can't ride them. But You can ride your cowboy!"

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

[igglemouse]

It's only the first trimester but this pregnancy thing is already a bit rough, at least more than I imagined. I never expected it to be easy but I do get tired of having to run to the bathroom. Yeaaa, lets not talk about that!

Instead lets talk about waffles, more specifically, chicken and waffles! My appetite has definitely started to change as I find myself more likely to completely clean a plate but I don't think I've had any specific cravings yet? I mean, right now I'm craving golden waffles and slightly crisp fried chicken drenched in sweet syrup, does that count?

Naturally the scent of waffles wafting waffly through the house is enough to draw Pascal down to the kitchen. I'm pretty sure waffles are his favorite food and the way he lights up before digging into them tells me that I might be right.

He takes a few bites, makes a groan of approval, then turns his attention to me, a bit of concern on his face. "You okay?" He asks with his mouth half full. "You spent a lot of time in the restroom this morning and-"

"Yeaaah, just one of those things I guess?" I say trying to pass it off casually. The constant nausea is common during pregnancy, right? Probably nothing. "It'll be okay!"

"Yeah," he mumbles, getting right back to his meal.

That reminds me, Pascal hasn't really talked much about this whole 'we're going to be parents' thing too much and by too much I mean not really at all? He's told me that he'll be there for the baby and for me and that matters but I do wish he was a little more involved.

I think he saves most of his enthusiasm for mud baths. It's a ritual for him, I think. I can understand why, it can be very relaxing sinking yourself into a puddle of earthy mud and letting the world melt away. I understand he kicks a ball around for a living but it does take a lot out of him. Athletes really push their bodies past limits. It must be a ritual of his at this point.

As for me, I find my own way to unwind. Grooving to Latin pop, the infectious beats fill the room and gets my feet to move but not too much. Sure would hate to trip or something buuut I'm hoping my little one is vibing to the music too!

Doing laundry isn't in any way more fun than dancing but it has to get done. Even if the sun is bearing down on you, making you sweat, and...why doesn't Pascal have a washer and dryer again?

But I wasn't going to spend my entire day under the sun, especially when Sara decided to drop by again. She's been coming over more and more lately, I don't mind, but as I've mentioned before she's a bit nosy. Always asking questions and trying to pry, just a touch annoying actually, but there's something endearing to it? It's almost like little sister energy, if that makes sense? Maybe that's just me wishing I had a little sister.

She does remind me of an old friend I had back home, in Selva. A softer version of her, a less confident version of her, but a version of her all the same. Candela was her name but that's a story for another day.

As soon as we sit down Sara dives right into the topic of Pascal. Completely expected, remember, she's the nosy prying type after all but I decided to turn the tables back on her and ask her about her own love life.

"Umm, remember, I'm not so fortunate," her reply is hesitant and her voice cracks a little, letting me know this is more of a sensitive topic for her.

"Sara, you're way too hard on yourself! I know you've had some luck-"

"What's luck if I'm sitting here single," she interrupts, set on putting herself down I guess.

"Sara, you're young, we all are," I say, wanting to defend her from herself. "It's really not that big of a deal being single. Sometimes, it's better than being stuck with someone that's abusive."

"Yeah...well, for now, I'll live vicariously through your relationship so lets hear about it." The smile on her face is forced but I agree. I don't want to force her to talk about her.

So I tell her about Pascal and me but there really isn't any excitement because there isn't much to go on about? We are just sort of...living together? No big adventures or vacations, nothing overly romantic, we've just been sharing a space and going through life day by day I guess.

"You're going to have to pull him off the pitch long enough for you two to do more together," Sara suggests. It's a good idea. The SPL, which stands for Sims Premier League, has an offseason doesn't it?

After Sara leaves the house feels a little quieter. That's alright because I'll always have ice cream! It's the sort of thing that can bring joy to any evening and so I step right over to the kitchen and pull out my nifty ice cream making machine and make me a bowl of it. because, why not? Feels like a butter pecan kind of day to me and it's feeling like I'll be needing two bowls!

One thing I think I have to consider when it comes to living with Pascal is that I've been doing most of the chores. Whether its scrubbing countertops or washing the dishes or doing laundry out in near 100 degree heat, it's me doing it all and here I am vacuuming so that we're not inhaling dust. Makes me wonder how he was keeping this place clean before me? I'd ask Pascal to do it for tonight but...

The mechanical whir of the treadmill and the pounding of his feet had told me he was busy. I quietly slipped inside of his workout room, which, now that I think about it, looks like it would be better suited for a child but maybe that's a discussion for another day.

I have to squeal out a hello to get his attention and once I do; "Does the offer still stand?" I ask, voice raised to be heard of the rhythm of his workout.

"Huh?" He kinda shouts back, a little out of breath.

"Moving in, does it still stand?" and I shout right back.

"O-oh! Yeah! Of course! Of course it does!" He stammers back and gives me a smile. I'll leave him alone for now I guess.

So yeah, it looks like I've mad my decision or rather, fate has made it for me.

I do have some concerns but that's expected, right? No one is perfect.

Honestly, if I were not pregnant with his child I do not think I would have made this decision but now that I am I want to do everything right. That includes raising a child the usual way. Mother, father, a house, a family, that kind of thing. It's at least worth a try, it's more than what was done for me growing up.

I'll miss this place. I wasn't here for long but that's the story of my life. I don't tend to stay in places for too long. The universe always nudges me on to my next chapter and on to the next episode..

Frida Varela Index ~ Next Episode 6 'Familiar Connections'

[esta-elavaris]

Hi hi hi! I just finished reading Catch The Wind the other day and left a big ole comment on AO3 about how much i fucking loveeee this story! Like seriously I was hooked every step of the way and I wish I could wipe my memory of the last week so I could read it all again from the start with fresh eyes. I said over there that I’d make some fanart because your endless creativity (even in the face of homelessness in classic AO3 author form) inspired me to tear myself out of a massive post-uni art block and draw something. Also because I just adore this ship 🥹🥹🥹

This is my interpretation of the oil painting mentioned at the very end of the story, where Theo and James look like they’re enjoying a secret joke while holding her silver pendant. I also put a little Hamlet in there because I’m deeply obsessed with the running ‘never doubt’ motif…. Ok thank you I hope you enjoy and I’m gonna leave it here before I chicken out and let it fester in my procreate gallery forever and ever. Thanks so much for this amazing story and peep my AO3 comment for my full gushing thoughts!!

I cannot count how many times I’ve read your AO3 comment since I first got it - I only haven’t replied yet because I cannot find the words to even begin responding to such insanely high praise! It genuinely made my entire week.

And now I’m in a similar boat with trying to find a way to respond to this INCREDIBLE piece of art 😭😭😭 like?? Oh my god, I have no words, I’m so stunned at the amount of work that went into this, how perfectly them it is, and the fact that my story would even inspire such enthusiasm that you’d want to make this! Thank you so, so much! I can’t get over this! Would you mind if I put it into the appropriate chapter? With full credit, of course - but no pressure if you’d rather I didn’t 💜

I completely get you on the post-uni creativity slump by the way, I did joint honours in English Lit and Creative Writing, and I swear I’ve never written less than I did during and immediately after my degree. Writing CTW actually majorly helped me shake the last of that off, so the idea that it helped you a little in that arena too is just so 🥺😭🥰

The nod to Hamlet was an amazing idea, too, I adore it! That’s such a good detail, I also really love the colour choices, the details on the clothes, the HANDS, and the sheen on Theo’s dress, and I’m SO glad you didn’t let this go unseen (completely relate to that btw) because at this point I’m genuinely tempted to make this my phone’s wallpaper 😭💜

So yeah if you can’t tell, I love it 💀 thank you so, SO much again!!! Oh my god.

[reaper2187]

Abigail x female farmer reader

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the rolling fields of Y/N's farm. The early morning air was crisp and filled with the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil. Y/N stretched her arms high above her head, taking a deep breath of the countryside air. The life of a farmer was hard, but every day brought new rewards and challenges that made it all worthwhile.

As she set to work watering her crops, the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel path caught her attention. Turning around, Y/N saw Abigail making her way up to the farmhouse. Her signature purple hair shimmered in the morning light, and her expression was as lively as ever.

"Morning, Y/N!" Abigail called out, waving as she approached. "I hope you don’t mind me dropping by this early. I was bored, and your farm is always a nice place to escape to."

Y/N smiled warmly, setting her watering can down. "Of course, Abby. You're always welcome here. I could use the company, too."

Abigail's eyes lit up as she stepped closer, taking in the sights of the thriving farm. "Wow, your crops are looking amazing! You’ve really transformed this place since you first moved here."

Y/N chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks. It’s been a lot of hard work, but it’s worth it. There's something really fulfilling about watching everything grow."

Abigail nodded, her gaze drifting across the fields before settling back on Y/N. "I get that. It’s kind of like adventuring, in a way. You start with nothing, face all sorts of challenges, and in the end, you come out stronger. Plus, there's treasure at the end of the journey. Except your treasure is fresh vegetables."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. Farming is its own kind of adventure."

"Speaking of adventures," Abigail said with a grin, "have you done any exploring in the mines lately? I’ve been thinking about going back down there. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good battle with those cave creatures."

Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans and nodded. "Yeah, I actually went down there a few days ago to gather some ores. It was pretty intense, but I managed to find some good stuff. If you want, we could go together sometime."

Abigail’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I’d love that! It’s always more fun when there’s someone else to share the danger with."

"Let’s make a plan for it, then," Y/N said, enjoying the way Abigail's enthusiasm was infectious. "But for now, how about you help me with the farm chores? I’ve got a lot to do before the day really gets started."

Abigail hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not? It’ll be good to do something different for a change."

Together, the two women set to work on the farm, with Abigail asking questions and Y/N happily explaining the different tasks and techniques. As they worked side by side, Y/N found herself sneaking glances at Abigail, admiring the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity and her hair bounced with every movement.

It wasn’t long before the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the warmth of the day began to settle in. The two women paused to take a break near the chicken coop, wiping the sweat from their brows.

"You know," Abigail said, leaning against the wooden fence, "I never really appreciated how much work goes into running a farm. You make it look so easy, but this is hard!"

Y/N chuckled, handing Abigail a bottle of water. "It definitely keeps me busy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s something really satisfying about knowing that I’m providing for myself, that everything I grow and raise is because of my own effort."

Abigail took a sip of water and nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. It’s like when I’m playing my music. There’s this feeling of accomplishment when I finally get a song just right, and I know it’s all because I put in the time and effort to make it happen."

"Exactly," Y/N agreed. "It’s that sense of pride in what you do. And it’s even better when you can share it with someone else."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to pause. There was something unspoken in the air, something that made Y/N’s heart beat just a little faster.

"Speaking of sharing," Abigail said, breaking the silence, "do you mind if I hang out here for a bit longer? I know you probably have a lot to do, but I really like spending time here. And with you."

Y/N felt her cheeks grow warm at the admission, but she smiled and nodded. "I’d love that, Abby. Stay as long as you want."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and work. The two women fell into an easy rhythm, with Abigail helping out where she could and offering amusing commentary that kept Y/N entertained. It was one of those days that felt like it could last forever, where every moment was filled with simple joy and companionship.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the two women found themselves sitting on the porch of Y/N’s farmhouse, sipping on lemonade and watching the stars begin to appear.

"This has been a really good day," Abigail said softly, her voice carrying a note of contentment. "Thanks for letting me hang out here, Y/N."

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "I’m glad you came, Abby. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the night sky deepen and the stars grow brighter. The sounds of the farm, the gentle clucking of the chickens, the rustling of the trees in the breeze, all blended together into a peaceful symphony.

"You know," Abigail began, her voice a little hesitant, "I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do with my life. There’s so much out there to explore, so many things to try, but sometimes I wonder if maybe...I’m just running away from things."

Y/N turned to look at her, surprised by the vulnerability in Abigail’s tone. "What do you mean?"

Abigail sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don’t know. It’s like...I’m always looking for the next adventure, the next thrill, but I never really stop to think about why. Maybe I’m just afraid of settling down, of staying in one place and missing out on everything else."

Y/N reached out and gently placed her hand on Abigail’s, giving it a comforting squeeze. "It’s okay to feel that way, Abby. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. Life is about exploring, finding out what makes you happy. And if you’re not ready to settle down, that’s perfectly fine."

Abigail looked down at their joined hands, a small smile playing on her lips. "I guess so. But...what if I find something, or someone, that makes me want to stay? What if I’m too scared to admit it?"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the implication of her words, but she kept her voice steady. "Then I think you owe it to yourself to explore that feeling. It might be the start of a new adventure, one that’s just as exciting as anything else you’ve experienced."

Abigail looked up, her eyes searching Y/N’s face for something, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The connection between them felt electric, like the air was charged with possibility.

"Y/N," Abigail whispered, her voice barely audible, "I think...I think I’m starting to feel that way about you."

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of surprise and joy flooding through her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips gently to Abigail’s.

The kiss was soft and tentative, but it carried all the emotions they had been holding back. It was a kiss filled with the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of the lemonade, and the promise of something more.

When they finally pulled apart, Abigail’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and happiness. "Wow," she breathed, her voice full of wonder. "That was...really nice."

Y/N smiled, her own cheeks warm with a blush. "Yeah, it was."

Abigail’s smile grew wider, and she leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh. "Maybe...maybe this is the adventure I’ve been looking for all along."

Y/N wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they watched the stars twinkle above them. "Maybe it is. And I’d be more than happy to explore it with you."

They sat there together, wrapped in the warmth of their newfound connection, as the night settled around them. The future was uncertain, full of possibilities and challenges, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they had found each other, and that was the start of a new adventure, one that they would face together.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions for both Y/N and Abigail. They continued their usual routines—Y/N tending to the farm, and Abigail splitting her time between the farm, the town, and her music—but now there was something new and exciting underlying everything they did together. It was as if the world had shifted, and suddenly, every moment they spent together was charged with the possibility of something more.

One afternoon, a week after their first kiss, Y/N found herself nervously pacing the farmhouse kitchen. She had invited Abigail over for lunch, and though they had spent plenty of time together recently, today felt different. She wanted everything to be perfect.

The table was set with care, a simple but delicious meal of fresh salad, bread, and a homemade vegetable soup simmering on the stove. Y/N had even gone out of her way to pick some wildflowers from the meadow to place in a vase on the table. As she glanced at the clock, she felt her nerves getting the best of her.

What if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore? What if that kiss was just a momentary thing?

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts, there was a knock on the door. Y/N quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Abigail standing there with a bright smile on her face.

"Hey, Y/N!" Abigail greeted, stepping inside. "Something smells amazing. Did you make all this?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit bashful under Abigail’s gaze. "Yeah, I wanted to do something special for you. I hope you like it."

Abigail’s eyes softened as she looked around the cozy kitchen, taking in the effort Y/N had put into everything. "You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, but...I’m really glad you did. It’s perfect."

They sat down to eat, the conversation flowing easily as they enjoyed the meal. Y/N found herself relaxing, the warmth of Abigail’s presence easing her nerves. As they talked about their plans for the upcoming harvest season, Y/N couldn’t help but admire the way Abigail’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her passion for life shining through in every word.

After lunch, they took a walk around the farm, the summer sun casting a golden glow over the fields. The conversation turned to lighter topics—funny stories from town, the latest escapades of the town’s residents, and Abigail’s newest obsession with sword-fighting.

"I’ve been practicing with my sword every day," Abigail said with a grin, swinging an imaginary blade as they walked. "I’m getting pretty good, if I do say so myself."

Y/N laughed, watching her with fond amusement. "I’m sure you could take on anything that comes your way, Abby."

Abigail beamed at the praise, but then her expression grew more serious. She lowered her imaginary sword and turned to face Y/N, her eyes searching her face.

"Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about us...about what happened last week," she began, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "I just want you to know that...that kiss wasn’t just a one-time thing for me. I meant what I said. I really do care about you."

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection, and she reached out to take Abigail’s hand in hers. "I care about you too, Abby. More than I can even put into words. I don’t know where this is going, but I want to find out. With you."

Abigail’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she squeezed Y/N’s hand. "I’m so glad to hear you say that. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it’s kind of scary, but...I want to see where this goes too. I want to be with you, Y/N."

Their confession hung in the air between them, heavy with promise and possibility. Without hesitation, Y/N pulled Abigail into a gentle embrace, holding her close as they stood in the middle of the sunlit field. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms.

As they pulled apart, Abigail looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with a mixture of happiness and vulnerability. "So, what now?" she asked softly.

Y/N smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Abigail’s ear. "Now...we take it one day at a time. We keep doing what we love, and we build something together. Whatever that ends up being."

Abigail nodded, her smile growing wider. "I like the sound of that. One day at a time, with you."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, wandering the farm and talking about their hopes and dreams for the future. As the sun began to set once again, they found themselves back on the farmhouse porch, sitting side by side and watching the stars appear in the darkening sky.

This time, there was no need for words. They simply sat together, their hands intertwined, content in the knowledge that they had found something special in each other. The future was still uncertain, but with Abigail by her side, Y/N felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As they watched the stars twinkle above them, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was the beginning of something beautiful—a love that would grow and thrive, just like the crops in her fields. And with Abigail by her side, she knew that this new adventure would be the greatest one yet.

The days turned into weeks, and soon enough, the harvest season was in full swing. The fields were bursting with crops ready to be harvested, and Y/N found herself busier than ever. But despite the long hours and hard work, there was a new lightness in her heart that made everything seem easier.

Abigail continued to visit the farm regularly, helping out where she could and always bringing her infectious energy with her. They fell into a comfortable routine, working together during the day and spending their evenings talking, laughing, and sometimes just sitting in companionable silence.

As the harvest season reached its peak, Y/N realized that she had never been happier. The farm was thriving, and so was her relationship with Abigail. They had become inseparable, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

One evening, after a particularly long day of harvesting, Y/N and Abigail sat on the porch, enjoying a well-deserved break. The sky was painted in shades of pink and purple, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of ripe fruit.

"This has been the best season yet," Y/N said with a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Abby."

Abigail blushed at the compliment, but her eyes were filled with pride. "I’m just glad I could help. It’s been amazing watching everything grow, knowing that I had a part in it."

Y/N turned to look at her, a soft smile on her lips. "You’ve done more than help, Abby. You’ve made this place feel like home in a way I never expected."

Abigail’s expression softened, and she reached out to take Y/N’s hand. "You’ve done the same for me. I never thought I’d find a place where I truly belonged, but...I think I’ve found it here. With you."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she squeezed Abigail’s hand, her voice filled with sincerity. "I’m so glad you feel that way. Because I can’t imagine this farm, or my life, without you in it."

Abigail’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love and gratitude she felt, a promise of everything they had yet to experience together.

When they finally pulled apart, Abigail rested her forehead against Y/N’s, a content smile on her lips. "I love you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the words, and she smiled, her own eyes glistening with tears of happiness. "I love you too, Abby. More than I ever thought possible."

They sat together, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the stars began to twinkle above them. The future was still uncertain, but Y/N knew one thing for sure—whatever happened, she and Abigail would face it together.

As they watched the night sky, Y/N couldn’t help but think about how far they had come. What had started as a simple friendship had blossomed into something beautiful, something that had changed both of their lives in ways they could never have imagined.

And as they sat there, holding each other close, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their story—a story filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities. And with Abigail by her side, she couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Oh man, this is your least requested? This is my favorite!

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

OH HELL YEAH! THANKS!

306 or 1k for TWATYTK, whatever I hit first <3

---

He brings the process, as easily laid out as he can get it, to Eddie. 

“So we’d need an egg donor and likely an unrelated surrogate,” he explains. 

“Unrelated?” Eddie asks. 

“Mhm, so it’s not their baby,” Buck explains. “Not, like, a hundred percent necessary. Like, if it was someone volunteering to do both. But for a paid surrogate? No.”

“Got it,” Eddie nods. 

“So, egg donor. Then select a surrogate. Then get a notarized contract before any, uh, embryo transfer can happen.” 

Eddie nods again. “And then a baby?”

“And then a baby, if all goes well,” Buck confirms. “We’d just have to file a parentage order, for whichever one one of us isn’t the donor.”

“Well, okay. That’s pretty simple, then.” Eddie looks hopeful. 

“Yeah, theoretically,” Buck nods.

“But?” Eddie asks. 

“It’s all pretty expensive,” Buck says. “Even outside the medical coverage.”

“Like, more expensive than we can afford?” Eddie asks.

Buck sighs. “Potentially.”

☆☆☆

They don’t rush this next piece. Determining whether or not they can actually afford this route of expanding their family. Which is frustrating, because once they understand the process, Eddie finds he really does want it. 

They reach out to a few different organizations to request pricing information. It all sort of suspects what they confirm. It’s just a little bit out of reach. Especially with Chris being only a handful of years away from potentially choosing to go to college. And Eddie thinks he will. 

They meet with a financial advisor. Come up with a savings plan. But it’s going to be a while, if they do it this way. This isn’t something they’ll accomplish soon. 

Eddie can’t help but feel discouraged. He’d got that feeling he was being pointed in a certain direction. But maybe he was wrong. The disappointment bums him out for weeks, but he tries to suppress it. 

And then, just as easy as the news about the medical coverage, one of their other problems is solved. 

In April, Pepa has Eddie, Adriana, and their respective units over for a family dinner. And, in a very Pepa fashion, she is of course pressing Eddie for information about when they’re going to have another kid. The minute Eddie had mentioned it to her, back in February, it’s pretty much all she wants to discuss with him. Classic. Eddie appreciates her enthusiasm, he really does. However, it does rub a little salt in the wound. He can see that in the tightness of Buck’s expression, too. 

“Well, we aren’t sure,” Eddie says. “We’ve run into some snags with the cost that we’re working on.”

“Cost?” Pepa asks. 

“I thought benefits covered a decent chunk,” Ravi - who is of course always included now - chimes in. 

“Uh, they do,” Buck nods. “But there’s still a surrogate contract and paying for donor eggs.”

“Ew,” Christopher wrinkles his nose.

“Don’t say ew,” Pepa scolds. “You were an egg once, mijo.” 

This only has the effect of making Christopher look even more disgusted.

Adriana swallows her bite of chicken and shrugs. 

“Well, I can give you eggs,” she says casually. Like it’s not a wild and potentially life changing thing to say. 

Everyone turns to look at her with gaping mouths and wide eyes. 

“What?” She asks. “Why do you look so confused? You should have asked me, Eddie.”

“Adriana, that’s a big decision,” Eddie says. 

“Not really,” she says. “I’m not using them at the moment, and they kind of have an expiration date.”

“A-are you sure?” Buck asks. Eddie can hear the hope and gratitude in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Ravi adds. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” She insists, like she’s annoyed they need to question it. “Eddie, you and Buck did so much for me when I arrived in Los Angeles. And you know, Eddie, when we were kids. This is a way for me to say thank you.”

“Adri, there was never anything owing from any of that,” Eddie says. “You’re my sister.”

“And you’re my brother,” she says. “Let me help you.”

Eddie looks at Buck. Buck looks so… So much like he’s very excited but doesn’t want to say anything. No pressure on either Eddie or Adriana. But Eddie can almost read his mind. Maybe, because if he steps aside from his worries for his sister, he sees exactly what Buck is excited about. A child genetically related to both of them. That just became significantly easier to afford.

“Adriana, it would be your biological child,” Pepa interjects. “That’s not a small consideration.”

“I understand that,” Adriana replies. “I’ll get to be their aunt, won’t I? And it’s not like I’m carrying them. No offense, Eddie. I am not getting pregnant for you.”

This distinction actually makes Eddie feel a hell of a lot better. She has a clear boundary. Something she’s comfy with, something she isn’t. If this was all motivated by guilt or a sense of owing, she may not. But maybe… Maybe she just really wants to help. 

“If you’re really comfortable with it,” Eddie says, emotion sitting tight in his throat. “Then we’d be extremely grateful.”

Buck beams. “Thank you, Adriana. Seriously.”

Adriana winks at him. “Let’s make a baby, Buck.”

Buck turns red. Eddie sighs. 

“Or don’t say that,” Ravi says. 

“Adriana,” Pepa sounds long-suffering.

“Wait,” Chris says. “So the baby will be my brother and my cousin? That’s weird.”

🗲🗲🗲

It’s really Adriana’s incredible offer of this gift to them that sets things into motion. Buck gets really emotional about it actually. Has a good, teary conversation with Eddie at, like, one in the morning one evening about the incredible role sisters have played in his life. Maddie. Adriana. Even Hen, really. He doesn’t know Sophia too well but he bets she’s great, too. 

Nothing happens overnight, of course. It’s still an uncertain process. They still need a surrogate, and Buck’s research shows that the pre-screening and hormone treatment process for Adriana to donate eggs is extensive and potentially lengthy. Like, maybe six-months.

[thesweetnessofspring]

Katniss Wants Kisses: Part 6 - The Finale

Drabble series: Katniss is fed up with getting no physical affection from Peeta during their training for the Quarter Quell, so she takes matters into her own hands. Rated T.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Read on ao3

At his invitation inside, I want to feast on Peeta's kisses, but a measure of control comes over me as it had in the Games when stretching out the food. Moving too fast in the past has only made him back away, so I follow his pace, which remains soft and shallow, then to a few brief pecks before he asks, “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No,” I say, and he’s releasing me to turn around and go to his refrigerator.

“I have some leftovers,” Peeta says. “Probably cool now, but we can heat it up.”

I’m not really hungry, surprisingly, and I want to get back to kissing, but he’s not kicking me out. Control. I have to stay in control of what I’m doing.

“I don’t need that much,” I say as he heaps chicken pot pie onto a dish. It’s the usual amount I have, but it’ll take longer to eat, which means longer to get back to what we had been doing before.

“Of course you do,” Peeta says. “We’ve gotten our calories and nutrients all mapped out.”

He turns on the oven and sticks in the plate with my portion. Even now with all of the money and food my family can get, we’ve never had to reheat meals. But I suppose with Peeta being on his own, he must have leftovers often. 

When he comes back over to where I wait for him by the kitchen island, his hands find their way to my waist, thumb skimming along my stomach.

“You are still eating all of your calories, right?” Peeta asks, looking me up and down.

“What if I’m not?” I say, sticking my face out in a playful challenge. I am eating everything I need for our Career regime, but I’m not willing to give up Peeta’s attention now that I have it again.

“Then I’ll have to watch you eat every day,” Peeta says, and he gives my side a tickle.

I twist away and giggle, then give him a quick kiss. “What if I need a little more encouragement than that?”

He gathers me up in his arms and I grin at him, but the playfulness falls from his face as he stares at me. I worry he’s going to push me away again, that I’ve somehow come on too strong. 

“This is a really bad idea, Katniss,” he says. “There’s a million reasons why we shouldn’t.”

“And one big reason why we should.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Because we want to.”

I drop my gaze from his eyes to his mouth and back, willing him to initiate again. Even still, when he moves his face toward mine, I’m surprised. Delight runs through me in anticipation of his kiss, then he stops a degree from my lips, so close that as he speaks I can feel their lightest brushing over mine.

“I only want one thing,” he says. “No pretending.”

I want to be mad at him for still accusing me of lying to him and for holding out on the kiss, but he’s making me so dizzy with need and I don’t care anymore. 

“None,” I promise and then press my lips to his, and finally kiss him with the depth that I’ve longed for this whole night–not mired in uncertainty or desperation, but responding with as much enthusiasm as I feel. Our mouths open for each other, tasting and teasing, nibbling and nourishing, and yet–and yet–I’m still so hungry. It doesn’t matter how much I allow his tongue into my mouth, or how I run mine along the roof of his, it’s not enough.

Peeta’s the one who pulls away and I let out a little yelp of disappointed protest. He gives me a kiss at the corner of my mouth then says, “Your food’ll be warm now.”

He lets me go to get a hot pad and remove the plate from the oven, steam rising from the chicken pot pie in front of me.

“I’m not that hungry,” I say when he puts the plate down on the island next to me.

He holds a fork out in front of him. “And yet you’re going to eat this whole thing.”

I grab the fork from him and take a stab at a slice of carrot with some crust clinging to it. After blowing on it, I pop it in my mouth. And it’s good–the sauce creamy and seasoned with thyme, the carrot slightly sweet, the crust flakey and buttery. It’s almost as good as kissing Peeta and I dig in to devour it, picking up the plate once it’s cooled enough so that there’s a shorter distance from my fork to my mouth.

When I’m finished, I’m tempted to lick up the remaining sauce and crumbs. Instead I lift my gaze up to find Peeta smiling at me.

“Told you you’d eat the whole thing,” he teases.

 “Now dessert?” I ask, taking his hand in mine and kissing the back of it. Part of our Career diet included cutting out the sweets, but he picks up on my meaning quickly.

“Living room,” he says, and gives me a short kiss before tugging me further into his house and leading me to the couch. We settle ourselves there and spend the rest of the evening wrapped in each other. There’s quite a lot of kissing, including Peeta’s mouth open and sucking at my neck, sending an entirely new kind of need down to my center. But there’s also time when we slow down, kissing growing lazier or stopping to catch our breath, when he holds me and strokes my back and I curl into him, warm from his heat and somehow happy.

It’s when Peeta notes the time and the fact that my mother will be worried about me, that I can drag myself away from him. He walks me to my door and leaves me with one last kiss before I have to go inside.

I ready myself for bed, feeling cold on my own now without Peeta beside me and I shiver, suddenly reminded that soon twenty-three tributes will be trying to take him from me, including Peeta himself. 

I cocoon myself in blankets and in the memory of Peeta’s kisses tonight instead. The Quell will come. But the next three months will be ours. 

[leesolbeesol]

No Messing Up

(P1: Chicken Scratch) (P2: Call On Silent) (P3: Easy Talking) (P4: Over The Moon) (Part 6: Can We Talk?) (Part 7: Goldilocks)

genre: fluff, college!au

warnings: m/c is scared of phone calls and just anxious in the beginning

pairing: dancer!mark x student!m/c ft. haechan and johnny for like 1 second

summary: you're nervous about calling Mark after you went on a date

wc: 530

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re posted up on your bed, hunched over your phone. Your date with Mark was probably the best date you had ever been on. He was sweet, easygoing, and kind. These reasons are exactly why you’re too scared to call him. The most pervasive thought is what if I mess up? The green call button glares back at you below his friendly face which was so fun to talk to. It’s not like talking to him is Sisyphean, so why are you so nervous? How should you say hello? 

“Hey! I know you just got off of… ugh.” You mumble to yourself.

You jump as your futile rehearsal is interrupted by your ringtone. The selfie of you and Mark picnicking is big on the screen. Your choice is made for you by his face filling the screen. You brace yourself and press green.

“Hey!” He’s talking in English and his familiar voice fills your ears. He sounds a little out of breath.

It’s 17:00 exactly. “What’s up? I heard you just got off dance practice.” You hope your voice doesn’t sound unsure, and… you don't. By some miracle, dialogue comes easy.

“Actually, not yet.” He confesses. That’s why he’s out of breath, you think. “We decided to go a little longer for the comp coming up. I called because I didn’t want you to miss me too much.” He sounds smug.

“Shut up!” You react with more than your voice—you’re sure you’re blushing. “You’re the one who called me immediately during your break, so who misses who?” You scold him, and you hear his heavy breathing through a laugh he lets out. “You just got on break, right? Stop teasing me and get some water and cool down!”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I have been. Plus, this room is cold as hell. Brr.” He mimics freeing and you laugh with him.

“You better not be catching a cold,” you chide playfully. He chuckles, the sound warm and comforting. 

“I’m not that weak, but I’ll take your advice to stay warm.” He assures you. “I swear I’ll put a hoodie on if I feel even a little bit chilly.”

“You better take care of yourself.” You challenge him, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

“You too.” He replies softly, and there’s a warmth in his voice that makes your heart flutter.

You fidget with your hoodie ties to keep focus on responding. You clear your throat, feeling even more butterflies than before. “How’s practice going? Are you going to win your competition?”

“Oh, absolutely!” He responds with enthusiasm. “Me and the guys are putting in the work. Those judges won’t know what hit them!” He’s ardent in his statements and it makes you smile even bigger.

“If you let me come, I’ll be your biggest cheerleader.” You promise him, and it’s his turn to get embarrassed. Somewhere in the background, you hear Haechan and Johnny talking.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice filled with gratitude. “That means a lot to me.” As you catch up on each other's days since your date, the conversation flows effortlessly. Despite the distance between you, his voice makes you feel like he’s next to you, and that's just fine with you.