#god I JUST WANNA BE A NORMAL KID FOR ONCE

[alltimecharlo]

Crosby is going to worlds I need a jealous Will because Mack is constantly talking about Sid.

anon… you read my mind. of course this needs writing about hehe 🩵 fic under the cut!!!

Will answers the FaceTime with his hair still damp from the post-game shower, wearing his new Team USA hoodie and the satisfied, low-simmering glow of someone who got on the scoresheet tonight.

Mack, when he picks up, is grinning like he’s got something up his sleeve already. He’s still in his base layer, sweaty and a little flushed himself, sprawled on the bench in the Canadian team’s dressing room, one leg bouncing like he’s buzzing from his own win.

“You looked good out there,” Will says first, preempting whatever smugness is about to come his way. “That goal was nasty.”

“I know,” Mack replies, all breezy confidence. “But I saw your little backhand sauce on that assist too. Real cute.”

Will smirks. “We’re winning Worlds this year. Just prepping you for heartbreak.”

“Oh?” Mack leans forward, chin in hand, eyes dancing. “Is that so?”

Will narrows his eyes. “Don’t start.”

Mack just grins wider. “It’s just… maybe you haven’t heard.”

He’s drawing it out. Dramatic. Cagey. Smug.

Will rolls his eyes. “Oh my God, what.”

Mack leans in close to the screen, eyes sparkling. “We got Crosby.”

Will’s brain screeches to a halt. “What?”

“Yup. Official. Sid the Kid’s joining the Worlds roster.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way.” Mack is downright giddy now, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Can you believe? I’m gonna get to skate with him. Play with him. I think our styles are gonna match real nice, y’know?”

Will’s jaw tenses. “Sure.”

“He’s just got this vision, right? This—like, effortless read of the ice. And he’s so good in the corners, and off the cycle—”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him play before, thanks.”

Mack pauses, eyebrows lifting. “Wait a second.”

Will glares.

“Oh my God,” Mack breathes, the grin back and bigger than ever. “Are you jealous?”

Will scoffs, loud and theatrical. “What? No.”

“Bullshit.”

“I just don’t want to play against Crosby. Who would? It’s—come on, he’s, like, an Avenger. He just shows up in red and white and ruins lives.”

“Uh huh,” Mack says, leaning back against the lockers, still grinning like he’s won something. “But that’s not why you’re jealous.”

Will crosses his arms. “Whatever.”

“You’re jealous I wanna play with him.”

“That’s—” Will falters, jaw twitching. “It’s not like that.”

Mack tilts his head, mock-sweet. “Aww, Smitty. You know you’re my number one liney always.”

“Fuck off.” Will’s voice cracks slightly with laughter despite himself, cheeks visibly flushing. “You’re such a dick.”

Mack cackles, unrepentant. “You love it.”

Will mumbles, “Shut up,” under his breath, lips quirking. But his eyes are warm.

And then Mack softens, like he can’t help himself. “Hey. You’re my favourite. Always.”

Will glances away, swallows once, then looks back. “Yeah. You too.”

They talk a bit more—Mack chirps him for the turnover he had in the second, Will points out that Mack almost blew a backcheck before his goal—and then the conversation drifts, easy, warm, familiar. Will watches as Mack yawns mid-sentence and slouches more heavily into the bench.

“It’s bedtime for you,” Will says, fond.

“Mm. Same time zone,” Mack says through a yawn. “You should sleep too.”

Will shrugs. “Don’t feel tired.”

“Well,” Mack says brightly, eyes lighting up with mischief again, “I would say goodnight like a normal person, but I gotta go suck Crosby’s dick now, so—”

Will ends the call mid-laugh, rolling his eyes with a fond groan.

His phone pings a moment later with a text from Mack:

Mack: 💛🖤💛

Will glares at his screen before typing.

Will: do they rlly have to be the fucking pens’ colors

Mack: jk :P 🩵🩵🩵

Will sighs and lets his head thunk back against the headboard. Then he types:

Will: 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 idiot.

He grins at the screen before locking it and letting it fall onto the comforter beside him. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

God help him—he’s such a fucking sap.

And, apparently, at war with Sidney Crosby now.

♡

[insufferable-homestuck]

that one post calware made about classpects being just another aspect of sburb the kids should abandon as they grow up is fun and in my head so ☝️

maybe the kids *were* supposed to just stop using their godly powers after successfully making the planet, but they didnt make *a new* planet they made *earth C*. rookie fucking mistake!! turns out choosing to scrap the universe but stay alive and just not play the game meant you skipped out on the fucking life lesson. it wasnt supposed to go this way "the only way to win is not to play" doesnt apply here!! Rose darling i know you dont wanna be a mom to the flowers but if you ignore it forever its not gon get resolved, play the game see you hate it instead of turning to alcoholism and THEN dont be a mom

maybe that's even why the final tier (( up to a point )) was the ultimate self, cause it sounds like there can't be anything above it, the game barely functioning atp is trying to SPOONFEED these fuckers that theres no reason to keep going!! "fuuck he didnt drop it at godtier um. ok uh ULTIMATE SELF YEAAAA is he gonna stop now." theres no reason for wars between gods and political arguments you only have those cause you made another earth instead of a new planet its an earth issue fucker..

thats why vriska went helltier instead of ult self cauuuse she faced her demons, but is still in the game, she was made helltier which is. all powerful from what im told to resolve the issues between these god man babies who think they can just blast each other with rays forever, vriska played the game more than anyone could and i hope once shes happy with terezi and shit she stops fighting (( aside from normal strifing which is a world concept not a game one )) and just gets normalcore. but maybe once you reach the tier of author (( retconner/writter of script like ult dirk )) you dont need to grow anymore, you can be a baby forever thats what hussie did .,,., looks out the window wistfully

[chiisana-lion]

years ago got this super cute lilac long skirt that ive never worn since getting it but would really like to if only it werent for the fact id hate to be perceived anything remotely close to femininely. and Especially by my extended family who i just know for a fact are waiting for me to grow out of my "phase" and be able to say "see that? you're acting like a normal girl now"

[naisaa]

okay i. didnt expect you are so not invited to my bat mitzvah to actually make me cry real tears. ???? the adam sandler teen comedy movie??? was good???? and genuinely funny??? and made me so emotional?????

idk maybe im surprised bc the last time i watched an adam sandler movie was in like 2012 and i never rly liked any of them. and with this one Some of the humor and over-the-topness was a toned down version of the same type of not rly my thing... but i liked and felt for the characters and the overall tone was so. charming?

i feel like if i was a teen i'd've haaated this movie bc of how it portrays teens. like i assumed the 'ha ha look at the silly slang and behaviors of Kids These Days amiright' would start to annoy me v quickly at the start of the movie... and i do think there were a FEW moments of it being like that. but overall i was so surprised that it just felt very loving, more like lighthearted teasing. i'm sure it'll grate on actual teens anyways (and fair enough) but as an adult the more remarkable thing was rly the palpable empathy.

'look i dont understand all of this and think a lot of it is silly or even worrying and i will make fun of it a little bit, but i can see you're struggling and i care and feel for you regardless.' like. im not even a parent but that was the vibe of the whole movie and it was. genuinely rly touching. and i did not EXPECT THAT

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[felixknow]

✩｡°⋆ C. Warming Big D. B. Chan ⋆｡°✩

y/n + “ you” pronoun; “cunt” but no specific anatomy mention for y/n though it leans afab bc of the mention of being "wet" though that could be implied self-prep!!!!; i tried to make chan’s partner gender ambiguous (: slight bratty reader, no prep by choice, established relationship

18+ ONLY, I do not write for kids, do not interact w my acc in any way if you're not an adult.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but you do.

It had been a long day of work after an even longer week. Normally it would have been fine for you to come home and crash, but when it’s the only day Chan has had off in two weeks, it sucks.

Not that he minds, though. Really, he doesn’t. Seeing your cheek cutely squished into the arm of the couch, and hearing your soft breaths and little noises while you sleep makes him happy. 

It’s just… he wishes you were awake to help him out.

It’s been days since you’ve seen each other, and while you’ve had plenty of phone calls and face times, but to have you physically… 

Chan sucks in a breath and sinks lower in the couch, spreading his legs to try to avoid his cock getting much friction between his legs. It’s hard-- painfully so-- but he can’t make himself wake you up. You’d told him once that it’s a good sign that you both get sleepy when you’re together, it means you’re comfortable and safe together. And you deserve the sleep after having such a tough week, and you’re so deep in your nap and--

“Ahh,” he hisses, bunching his fists up on his thighs. Fuck, the look of your mouth hanging open, your cute lips… if he could just be a little more bold, you probably wouldn’t mind if he woke you up…

No, he can’t. You need the rest, clearly.

Fuck, but now that he’s spread his legs apart, your feet are pressed to the side of his thigh, and even that innocent touch feels like it’s setting him on fire.

Fuck, he thinks. I’ve gotta calm down or I’ve gotta move.

So he tries to move, and he tries to be careful but you suck in a deep breath when he tilts away from you, and when he looks over, your sleepy eyes are open and peering over at him.

“How long have I been asleep?” Your voice is so god damn precious, all sleepy and pouty and soft. Fuck.

“Uhhh… Half an hour? I don’t-- I’m not sure actually, I--”

“Channie?”

Oh shit. Of course your eyes caught the tent in his pants, he wasn't even trying to hide it. Somehow he feels embarrassed about it even though you’ve seen it plenty of times, but for you to wake up after being so vulnerable with him sitting right there like this--

“Do you need some help?”

He doesn’t have the willpower to say no.

“I was gonna let you sleep, baby. I wasn’t trying to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, sitting up slightly and turning so your back is against the arm of the couch. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and stretch your tense shoulders and neck.

“You can sleep. Why don’t you get some more rest? I’ll be okay.”

“No,” you whine, “I want you.” You reach out for him, and yeah, there’s no fucking way he can say no now.

“Okay,” he says, scooting toward you. He groans softly at the feeling of his boxers and pants shifting against his aching crotch, and you have the nerve to giggle at him.

“You think it’s funny?” he asks playfully, reaching up to pinch your cheek. “You’ve been all cozy and sleepy and I’m so hard it hurts, baby.”

“Let me help you then,” you coo, sliding your hands down his chest. Your voice drops and you all but purr your next words. “I wanna cockwarm you.”

“Mm, I’d love if you did.” He rests his hands on your knees, fingers moving back in forth in a gentle scratch. “D’you wanna go to my room?”

You shake your head.

“Want you now, right here.”

“But what if Jeongin comes home, baby?”

“Don’t care,” you mutter, words slurring from a mix of remaining drowsiness and desire. You reach out and pull him in by his biceps until he relents and his hands latch onto your upper thighs, his thumbs brushing ever so gently against the seam of your pants. Your legs part, and his hands drift higher, blatantly teasing over your crotch.

“Mm… If you’re sure.” His voice is just above a whisper as he leans in, head tilted, eyes heavily lidded. His full lips brush yours, just barely. Not enough.

Your arms wrap around him, one hand sinking into his soft hair, the other pressed flat against his broad shoulder. Once again your actions lead him further, pulling him in, entranced. His kiss is heavy against your lips but soft to the touch. You kiss him back lazily, savoring every touch he gives you. His lips on yours, his hands starting to work you free of your pants.

You help then, pulling them and your underwear down in one movement, leaving it behind your knees. Sinking lower into the couch, you present yourself to him this way.

“Put it in.”

“Baby,” he chuckles, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. “You need to be stretched first. Let me eat you out, yeah?”

“No.” You shake your head and frown at him. “I want it. Put it in, Channie. Please.”

“Y/N,” he says in warning, but you huff and reach down, shoving at his hands to make him hurry up.

“I want to feel you. I like it tight sometimes. Don’t you?”

“Oh, baby,” he sighs-- or is it another wanting hiss?-- leaning in close once more. “It’s always tight. So fucking tight and hot for me, aren’t you?” His breath fans across your face, and you give a small mewl of interest and try to catch his lips with yours.

“You need to let me stretch you,” he whispers so close that your lips brush together.

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No,” you whine. “I want you to work me open on your cock. Don’t tell me no, Channie. I want it so bad.”

“So bad, huh?” He fidgets a little, and when you hear the quiet rustling of fabric, you know you’ve got him. “How ‘m I gonna tell if you’re wet if you don’t want me to finger you first?”

“Don’t care.”

He laughs softly in your face and drops his head to your shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re being a bit of a brat today, huh? ‘Don’t tell me no.’ ‘Don’t care.’ What’s gotten into you?” You’re slightly distracted by the wet trace of his tongue against the side of your throat, but you manage an answer.

“I’m tired and I want you inside me before I start screaming.”

“Screaming?” he laughs again. “I can make you scream, baby. But that’s not what you mean. Are you needy? Want me that bad?”

“Need you, Channine,” you whine, squirming, trying to get your cunt closer to him. Your cheeks touch his thighs, and you can’t help the twitch of desire you get from knowing his cock is so, so close. “Stop teasing me and let me hold you.”

“Hold me?”

“Cockwarm you!” You snap with no venom.

“Okay, okay!” He laughs again against your neck. “Don’t get worked up, baby, I’m gonna give it to you.” He peppers kisses up your jaw as you blindly reach for his dick. When your fingers nearly grasp it but fail to get purchase, he moans with a breathy ahhh.

“Fuck, c’mere.” Chan takes your hand and spits into it, then guides your hand in place. You wrap your fingers around his thick shaft and rub his spit upward, smearing it on his head as much as possible.

“Ahh, your hands are so nice.”

“Mm?” You tug slightly, pointing him toward your cunt, and he jolts and groans and finally, finally, finally gives you what you want.

His fat tip prods at your hole, dipping in just barely, pulling back, pushing a tiniest bit further to test how far he can realistically get with just the slick of his spit to start. But once he’s gotten past the widest point of his head, your warm, wet cunt flutters around him, he has to fight back every urge he has to bury himself completely.

“Ohh, fuck,” he sighs. “You’re so wet, huh? You like the idea of cockwarming me that bad?”

“Yes.” You nod frantically and try to push down onto him, but you’re pinned between the armrest and Chan and fuuuck is that a good place to be. “More, more, please. Just do it, slide in until I tell you to stop.” 

You expect him to play the concerned boyfriend and ask if you’re sure, but it seems he’s finally thinking with his other head.

“Yeah, fuck.” He nestles one knee between you and the back of the couch, and the other leg hangs off the edge of the couch to give him the leverage to move as he plunges deeper. As deep as he is in lust, he keeps a careful ear trained on the sounds you make. The whimpers, the gasps, the way your breath catches in your throat.

“Hold on,” you say with your face scrunched up and a hand pressed to his chest. He takes your hand in one of his, raises it to his face and kisses your palm.

“You’re so good to me,” he mutters. “You take it so well.”

You breathe through the pinching pain, and as it subsides you grab for Chan’s sides, balling your fists in his t-shirt.

“It’s good.” Your mouth mushes the words together and you have to try again so he can hear you properly. “It’s good. I’m good. Keep going.”

“More?” he asks, but without waiting for a response he hovers over you with his lips to your forehead, and you feel that uncomfortable, nagging pinch of there not being enough god damn room.

“You’re so fucking big,” you dry sob, and he stops again.

“I thought you could take it, huh? You’re the one who said no. You said you wanted it tight.”

“I do, I do.” Your arms latch around him, not leaving any room for him to pull away. “I want it.”

“Just a little more then, okay? Then we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

You nod and close your eyes tight.

Breathe in. Relax, relax, relax.

Out.

In. Relax, relax.

Out.

“You’re so good to me,” he says again. You know he’s finally done by the way he nuzzles into your neck and sighs contentedly. “D’you wanna lay down?”

“Not yet,” you mutter. “Like feeling surrounded by you.”

“Mmkay.” He sounds tired now, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Did I mention I love you?”

“You love cockwarming.”

“Mmm… says the one who wanted to do it so bad.”

[2tarbell]

vanilla birthday cake — send some dialogue 4 a short drabble with rafe + any of my !readers

mean!rafe + crybaby!reader “i don’t wanna know”

HAKSJSKSJKS

MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

participate in my bday celebration!!!

rafe had had just about enough. he wasn’t very patient to begin with but he was trying to be better — for her.

his poor little girlfriend that had a never ending supply of sorrow and tears. normally, around him, she was content as could be. and he was happy to indulge her and be the one to soothe her when external factors hurt her sensitive heart.

but she just wouldn’t stop crying.

today, she had to have set a new record. whimpering away next to him while rafe tried to get some work done on his computer. she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working, but crybaby just needed some attention. some love.

what if he was all quiet ‘cause he realized how annoying she was? what if—

“okay, what’s a-matter?”

her watery eyes flickered up to his deep blue and thundering ones.

rafe stared at her impatienty — fingers poised as if about to start typing. but his eyes held a question in them. an intensity that makes crybaby shrink into herself, eyes shifting and babbling for an answer while her shaky hands played with the buttons on her shirt.

“wha—? oh, um, s’nothing…”

not a good liar, but even worse at holding eye contact. rafe huffed and closed the laptop abruptly. he spread his legs further, setting the device somewhere beside him. she could be so difficult sometimes.

“kid, you’re over there, sniffin’ and shit — what’s the problem?” his voice was gruff and low, but so familiar and comforting in its own way. running a hand over his buzzed head in a way that always sent her heart racing.

“well, uh, i— i jus’— um…” the stuttered words came out clumsily, not a coherent thought in her head as she stared wide eyed at him. tears began to well anew.

“okay, okay— shut up. i don’t wanna know anymore, jus’— c’mere.”

god, she looked dumb with that look on her face. all frozen and tense as he tries to coax her closer. like a deer and a hunter.

rafe tilts his head to the side, a small smirk settling on his lips. he sees the moment she relaxes; eyes still wet and lip still trembling but she’s scooting closer nonetheless.

he scoops crybaby into his lap, strong arms circling her and pulling her into his chest. rafe sighs like it’s hard work — but the concerned furrow of his brow says otherwise.

she’s still sniffing, nuzzling her face further and further into his chest as she straddles him. trying to disappear fully into his warmth and affection. it’s like just being in his arms sends her into a daze. it’s made worse by his hand pulling her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

her rafe. that soft mumble only she’s privy to. his gentleness entirely reserved for her, for her moments of need. yet, she loves when he’s mean to her — in that dirty, knowing way he is. when her heart just feels so heavy and she doesn’t wanna think anymore. she craves that fuzziness only he can make her feel, a warmth pooling in her underwear. she needs it.

her voice is meek and barely audible when she huffs, “i jus’— today was so—”

rafe rolls his eyes, but tugs her closer. pressing firm kisses to her hairline and letting her ramble on about all the hard things she went through. she doesn’t register his wandering hands. it’s only when his fingertips are breaching her lace panties when she finally notices how he’s pushed her skirt up.

“hmf— rafey—”

her slickness makes a groan vibrate through his chest, fingers pressing forward until he’s prodding at that spongey spot just right. crybaby is hiccuping and sniffling again — eyes pitifully squeezed shut from the intrusion.

“shuddap, let daddy do this, yeah? getchu to stop whinin’ for once.”

based off this little thing i wrote!!!

[tiredeyesight]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ in your mind (mattheo riddle x fem! reader)

summary : mattheo riddle, your sworn enemy, forgets about your ability to hear others thoughts

mattheo fucking riddle, waltzes into the class as if he owns the place. that stupid smirk and knowing eyes that he could do anything for salazars sake and not get into any trouble. flitwicks dismay is obvious, yet he does nothing but instruct riddle to take a seat just behind you. now your dismay was obvious, riddle had been your sworn enemy for as long as you could remember however you couldn’t really remember why.

‘oi y/l/n, what’re we doing?’ riddle questions you. ‘come on time and focus to find out’ you respond and for some odd reason there was no sarcastic comment or any insult thrown your way. just silence from mattheo. despite your normal dislike for your abilities to hear other’s thoughts, you used it. just this once.

voices boomed and echoed through your head, clashing together and combining until you focused in on one particular annoyingly attractive voice. ‘god why does she have to be so pretty’ you hear from the same voice that had called you a multitude of opposing mocks. surely he wasn’t talking about you. ‘her hair is so gorgeous, looks so soft, i just wanna play with it ugh.’ to confirm you weren’t dreaming, you dropped your pencil and turned your head. all you saw was his dark, rich brown eyes completely focused on you.

‘i always forget how beautiful her eyes are, this lighting doesn’t do them justice.’ and there was your confirmation.

for the rest of the lesson, you couldn’t focus on the work only on the handsome yet annoying boy behind you who hadn’t stopped thinking about you. as the bell rings you shove your items away in a haste determined to learn more about this admiration for you. the halls become flooded with kids rushing to get to their dorms or the hall for a quick snack before dinner yet all you were focused on was mattheo riddle.

he turned into a quiet hallway and you followed suit, your presence becoming known to him. ‘what are you doing here?’ he asks with irritation in his voice, a very fake irritation as all he could think about was ‘i want her so bad’. you walked closer towards him with a small smile plastered on your face, almost chest to chest and whispered the words, ‘for being someone you hate, i’m sure on your mind a lot’.

a blush rose to his cheeks, ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about.’ a continuous, ‘fuck fuck fuck, i forgot she can hear peoples thoughts’, jostled through his mind. a small giggle arose from your sweet lips and that’s all it took for mattheo to completely fold. ‘christ all right, you caught me’ he started, ‘im like head over heels for you, even with our little fights it makes me fall more in love with you every single time. you’re just so gorgeous and so kind, the complete opposite to me yet im totally obsessed with you.’ a smile that you had never seen before appeared on his face.

you were in complete shock, this was almost the last thing you expected from him of all people. mattheo riddle. yet you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach exploded in flutters by his words and how you suddenly became speechless. ‘can i kiss you’, you uttered out after moments of silence. ‘please.’

author note : i feel like this may be the most common thing ive ever wrote but hey it’s common for a reason so live laugh love i guess. and as always requests are still open!!

word count : 557

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

I need an au where joker torture reader (his daughter) without him remembering shit but reader know it's him so she tries to reasons with him, begged for him to snap out of it but nothing happens. Batman tries to save the reader but it was already too late, she was already dead.. Body torn, dismembered, skin peeled, bones broken, blood everywhere, eyes gauge out, teeth pulled out like her finger nails.. She was beyond recognition. In a fit of anger, Batman beat up joker and somehow made him(joker) snap back and memories of the reader as a kid flashing through his mind. Joker remembers why he was joker in the first place.. Remember why he sent her away and left her as a child(to protect her from himself because he knew that he'd lose himself one day). He starts blaming Batman for making her a Robin, for bringing her to the life of vigilantes when all he (joker) wanted was for his little treasure to live a normal and peaceful life. (Do your magic, I suck at writing)

-👻

waited for life to hit me hard so I can make this angsty

OH FATHER DAREST PLEASE SAVE ME

What defines evil? What defines the line between betrayal and trust ? What defines the line between justice and superiority ? TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME PLEASE !!

Name grew up to be a good child - a child that Jack Naiper and Harleen Quinzel felt pride in . Name was their saving grace , their redemption from the filthy fangs of Gotham's slum and criminal underground. Name was their heaven in a place of hell.

They were never Joker or Harley Quin for her - no they'd never dawn such a monstrous mask for their sweet child no - for her they'd be normal - for her they'd love her .

Joker always smiled around her - not the smile he dawns at night no - it was a soft fatherly smile when he watched you color away in your book . He always took pride that he was your safe place that you would always come running to him when you injured yourself or wanted to excitedly show off your drawings.

Harley loves her child - her precious daughter always takes pride in dressing her and making her lunch before the school bus picks her up . She revels in the sweet way her daughter calls her " mommy " and makes her feel so proud and happy.

You may not be biologically Joker or her child but God did you feel like you were made for them - this small little angel that just likes holding her mommy's hand and coloring in her daddy's tattoos while babbling on about her day.

It feels surreal for them both every day when they wake up to your happy giggles every morning . It's a routine so soft- Harley makes herself and Joker coffee while you get a glass of apple juice . Joker always finds himself getting your book bag and lunch bag ready before helping Harley with breakfast.

You're in the living room watching Dora, the explorer on the t.v, your little legs rocking back and forth . Joker sits you on his lap and feeds you while Harley gets your bath and uniform ready. " Daddy, can I be like you and have green hair ?" You asked him once oh so innocent .

Joker giggles at your antics , " Now why would my princess want green hair ?" . " I wanna look like you !" You exclaimed as you snuggled into him. Joker laughs and kisses you on the forehead . " My princess is too pretty to look like me."

Before they know it, they're standing at the front door waving you off as you enter the school bus. They both sigh, but their face melts as they peak ,Balck Mask lackies further down the road.

" I thought we agreed not to bring home work," Harley asks , practically boring a hole into one of them. " I thought so too," Joker mumbles as he clenches his fists. There was an agreement - an agreement generally acknowledged by all criminals of gotham's slums and underground world that under no circumstances that you were to interfere with one another as civilians.

Guess black mask wants to play a dangerous game. Harley watches in silence as she watches them offload boxes from an unmarked truck into a house.

Joker pursues his lips - he knew he was no one to talk since he does his own dirty business, but he hates it that Black Mask chose to do his near his home - your home. " I swear if name gets hurt because if this I am going to kill everyone," he swears . Harley nods in agreement.

The evening dawns upon the Gotham , the sun sets under the tall distant sky rise like a collapsing star - its beams of light breaking apart upon the floor as a last abode. Name happily skips to the Wayne Manor , her barbie back pack in tow.

The manor so dark - so looming in the distant had once scared her so much, but now she's grown so accustomed to it. Name carefully yanks the door black , iron gate open , her small feet push her towards the big mahogany halls of the manor.

Name gets on her tip toes and carefully presses her small finger on the doorbell. Moments pass, and Alfred opens the door , " Miss name, you know you don't have to ring to the doorbell every time you visit " Alfred greets her. Name smiles , " papa told me it's rude to enter someone's home without asking for permission first" .

Alfred shakes his head but still motions her to come inside - Name was a newly addition to the Wayne Manor- a good one at that. Name giggles as she bumbles in , running inside , " Jasonnnnnnn~" Name calls out in a sing song tone.

Said boy was sitting on the sofa watching cartoons when his head perks up at the mention of name's voice , "Name !! You're actually here !" , he exclaims as he runs over to embrace her . Jason has always wanted a little sister - selfishly he know this dream of his would never had happen with the type of parents he had - a drug addicted mother and a father who worked as Black Mask's lackey wasn't they environment for a child like name so safe to say when he met her at school - his blood just took to her.

Jason was simply walking home from school - his mood sour since Bruce had insisted he attend a gala tonight . God knows Jason Todd hates galas with everything in him - it's just a bunch of preppy rich fucks that gather around to brag to one another about how rich they were.

Jason feels his jaw clench at he damned thought - he would gladly sell off his soul if it meant that he didn't have to stand hours on end in some scratchy suit and plaster on some stupid smile. Another sigh leaves his lips as he stops at a cross road.

a " Excuse me mister can you please cross me across the road ? My papa can't do it because he has to work late and mama has to run the salon" a little voice calls out to him followed by a soft tug on his uniform's shirt. Jason looks down to see this small little girl looking right at him with big old eyes.

'Sure kid why not", he answers . The kid smiles at him all wide and Jason swears it took everything within him not to squish the kid's cheeks together. Jason holds her hand and walks her across , ' Thank you Mister !" Name thanks him as she hugs him. Jason pats her head , " Anytime kid also just call me Jason" . Name smiles up at him , " My name is name !!" she exclaims as if it's the best thing in the world - probably is.

Jason's afternoon evening continued like this - he'd always wait at that cross road and cross name right over until one day rain began pouring . Jason sat in the limbo , Alfred seated at front , idly tapping away at the steering wheel , " Master Jason are you sure the young miss would arrive ?" Alfred questions Jason . Jason anxiously picks at his fingernails , " I'm not sure Alfie.." .

A long moment passes before name's small figure emerges through the heavy down pour of the rain and Jason immediately shove's the limbo's door open, " Name ! Get in !" . Name looks confused for a moment but when she realizes it's Jason she immediately crawls in the car , soaking wet. " Uhh sorry for the mess ..." she trails off nervous and embarrassed . " Not a thing to worry about dear - here would you like the heater to be turned on ?" , Alfred reassures her .

Name hesitantly nods before seating herself next to Jason. " Alright , we are going to Wayne mansion okay ? Once the rain calms down I'm sure to drop you off home alright ?"Alfred offers her with a gentle smile . Name meekly nods but snuggles into Jason and he allows her to steal his warmth.

Ever since then - Wayne Manor's residence treats name like their family - it's own blood - only difference is that the little thing does not live with them . Jason let's out a cough as Name sits across from him , Alfred enters the living space , snacks in hand and warm tea for Jason.

" I big brother okay ?" Name asks as she nimble away at a Oreo cookie. Jason let's out another cough before Alfred answers her , " I'm afraid Master Jason's flu keeps on getting worse as each day progresses - maybe if he actually rested and took his medicine he'd feel better " Alfred complains as he side eyes Jason. Jason weakly coughs, " Name don't worry about Alfred , I'm fine -" he counters but is interrupted by another cough.

Name giggles at his antics, " You need to take your medicine - my mama would take away my Ipad if I don't " she giggles away. Alfred laughs , " Maybe I should do that to Master Jason - maybe he'd actually learn to take care of himself for once " . Jason side eyes Jason before coughing out his lungs.

" Ya'll just overreacting" he murmurs weakly. The evening is spent with Jason coughing his life out while Name watches henry danger on the big television. The door of the foyer opens and there emerges Bruce Wayne in all his glory . Name perks up at him and gives him a wave , " Good Evening Uncle !!" she greets him. Bruce smiles and waves back at her , " Evening Name I see you came to visit your big brother ?" he questions with a knowing stare at Jason. Jason rolls his eyes,

"I'm not sick" he defended while another cough exits his mouth. Everyone immediately erupts in laughter at his pathetic lie. " Sureeee" Bruce teases as he puts away his briefcase before excepting a glass of water from Alfred. Just as everyone was starting to unwind - an alarm sounds off - the television immediately switches to a live feed of Joker and Harley Quin in jester masks smuggling cargo.

Bruce feels his jaw clench at the sight and immediately begins gearing himself. Jason begins to weakly stand up only to fall flat on his face , "Owww" he groans , name immediately rushes up to him , helping back onto the sofa , " Uncle I don't think Jay can join you" you murmur helpless. Bruce eyes you and Jason's growing red face . "It's alright I will handle them myself" he declares before he walks off. Jason's eyes widen , " You can't go by yourself -" he calls out stubbornly .

"You aren't going and that's final" Bruce says with finality as he slips on his batman mask. Jason stares at him defiantly while Alfred quietly presses a damp rag to his forehead. Name hesitantly raises her hand , " what if I go in his place uncle ?" she asks a bit shaken. Bruce opens his mouth - ready to deny her suggestion when Jason looks back at him defiantly , " If you can so call handle it yourself - I'm sure Name being there won't make a difference" he says defiantly.

Bruce pursues his lips , " Fine but Name you stand behind me " he says before walking off. Name eagerly runs behind him as she quietly slips on the robin suit, " I promise to do you good jay !" she calls off before disappearing down the hall.

Jason smiles before he coughs , " Sure kid !" he calls back.

Harley and Joker , in the dead of the sinking sun , hurriedly offload Black Masks' cargo into one of their own trucks , " I am gonna resell this shit back to him for this shit" Joker curses as he puts the last of the load in the back , Harley shutting the door with a loud 'tud'. " I feel like thats too vanilla honey we should straight up maim him for breaking code' she says with a grit in her tone.

Both were about to enter the vehicle when Batman and Robin landed on top the vehicle. " Stop right there Joker" Batman declares , already glaring down at them. " Go fuck off Bats this has nothing to do with you" Harley shouts at him. " Ma'am cursing is bad !" robin calls out behind batman , her small figure practically hidden by his massive cape.

Joker lets off a mask , " Aww Bats I didn't know you parent stray kids now " he laughs manically . Batman grimaces , ' What do you think you two are doing smuggling drugs " he accuses . Joker laughs again before reaching into his purple coat and began shooting towards them , " Come find out for yourself batsy ~" he teases.

Batman picks up Robin and jumps into the air , dodging the stray bullets when Harley took the opportunity to throw smoke bombs right at them. " Such damn pests !" she calls out as the bombs exploded - masking their vision. Their view is immediately shrouded and Batman grabs Robin and crouches behind a dustbin.

As the smoke disintegrates , Harley comes swinging at them with her spiky bat , " Hello Batsyyyy !!" she calls out as she swings at them - batman narrowly escapes but robin unfortunately hadn't and their stomach is immediately makes impact with it and is sent flying backwards into a wall. Joker takes his chance to stand atop the van nd starts raining down bullets before Batman has the chance to react.

" This is pathetic even for you Bats !!" he calls out as he refloads back in a magazine. Robin gets onto her feet and immediately throws batarangs his way - attempting to divert him. Joker curses and Batman takes the opportunity to land hard kick into Harley's jaw and he immediately jumps after Joker.

Harley goes colliding into the floor - her nose bleeding but before she even gets a chance , robin immediately jumps onto her back and begins restraining her in handcuffs.

Meanwhile Batman And Joker standoff - each trading dangerous blows to one another , both eagerly waiting for a weak spot to open to permanently take down their opponent. Joker wipes the blood of his lips as he stares down Batman , gun aimed at him , "Fun time's over Bats - time to end this " he declares , fingers trained on the trigger.

Batman grimaces as he lunges at him but it was too late - it all happens in slow down , joker changes his aim and aims his gun right at Robin and 'swoosh'. The bullet slices through the air at rapid speed and collides into robin's spine. Robin let out an ear piercing scream - a scream that practically shook the earth as robin lays face front onto the ground , crimson blood pouring out rapidly.

Batman screams as he lands on top of Joker -, " NAME !!" he calls out as he threw Joker's laughing body away somewhere like it was garbage. Joker in the amidst his maniac laughter stopped - it can't be , that name is too familiar - it , no that couldn't be his daughter. Harley laid there frozen - the reality of the situation dawns upon her when she watches Batman turns robin around onto their back and removed their mask to reveal name - her name - their name.

Harley feels her insides twists -, " NAME ?" she calls out confused . Batman frantically wipes the grime off name's face to reveal her pale face , her eyes slowly closing. Joker immediately comes barreling towards them , his mask long removed as he pushes away Batman.

"Name , honey - honey what - why " he stammers as he holds her in his hands. Harley is full on crying , no wailing her lungs out to the point it hurts - she cant believe her sweet girl was robin no- it can't be her sweet girl was always home on time - Batman must have forced her ! yes - he force her to be robin - she tries to convince herself - her mind to far gone to accept the cruel reality she's living in.

" Papa /" Name murmurs as she watches him through her drowsy eyes . " It hurts..." she murmurs as she shivers in his hold. Joker holds her close , "It's okay daddy's here - he's here baby - he's here to save you promise" he whispers as he tries pressing down on her wound.

" Papa please ...save me -it's too dark ...too painful" she pleads with him but it was too late , her eyes shut for the last time and her pulse stops. Joker lets out an agonizing scream before Batman tackles him to the ground. " You leave Name alone " he barks - his tone furious - he knew joker was cruel but to be so cruel to kill his own was a wicked he thinks not even the devil could achieve.

" YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME SHIT BATS NOT WHEN YOU'RE THE REASON SHE'S DEAD" Joker screams as he violently trashes in his hold . Harley can only cry - her eyes were bloodshot red as it stared at your discarded corpse - she refuses to believe that her baby's corpse - not thats someone else baby her's is home building a pillow fort waiting for her to come home .

" DON'T BLAME ME FOR YOUR SICK SHIT - YOU'RE THE ONE THAT FUCKING SHOT HER" Batman curses as he sucker punches Joker's face , practically sending it pummeling into the floor. " YOU'RE A FUCKING HYPOCRITE BATS - YOU'RE THE BLOODY ASS THAT BROUGHT HER IN THIS DAMN LIFE - A LIFE THAT SHE WASN'T MEANT TO BE IN " Joker curses as he lays there helplessly on the floor .

His body feels too weak to get up - it feels like lead was poured into his veins and is keeping him chained to the floor. Batman kicks Joker to the side of the van , in the distance ,wailing sirens rang through the empty streets as they slowly approach them . " I hope when you both are rotting in the darkest pits of hell - that you both realize that you never deserve Name in the first place , that tonight , her death is on your heads , that you both are so vile that karma paid you a visit and that costed a pure soul like name's - that name is never fucking coming back " Batman declares.

Rain immediately begins to pour down like heavy bullets, Batman scoops up your cold corpse , practically tucking you into the safety and warmth of his corpse before he grapples away.

Blue and red lights flashes about as the smell of burnt tires filled their noses. Harley lets out a scream before a police officer drags her away into the confides of an armored truck. Joker stares into nothingness as an army of police officers drag him into a separate armored van , he glares at the spot batman stood in before the door closes on him permanently. " We'll see how you react when I take away something precious from you bats " he swears before his maniac laughter echoes off the empty streets.

also sorry if requests/ asks are late I'm currently in exams week (╥﹏╥)

thank you for the ask anon and thank you for reading !!

I also realized I missed a crucial part of all the gore assuming Joker killed her like Jason but I think I can tweak that in part 2 I think ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

[starrycassi]

*taps mic* uhm, hello? Is anyone there?

Anyways. Writing a fic of altmark gayson and his boyfriend trying to dodge the age of question of "hey, when will you guys have kids?" Except this time the question is quite heavy because, well, there's the whole heir for empires thing. Also, neither of them has an uterus. Also, they really really really like getting drunk on Friday nights...

Featuring:

Mark who got his powers at 13/14. Since I'm going off with the idea that maskless mark is gay, him and William were already kindaaa dating? So my man is far cockier than mainstream mark, but, also, far clingier

He does take over earth with omniman. Or is in the process to, at least

Nolan is Very Weirdly Open when discussing procreation. The Talk is just a constant thing with him.

Nolan is somewhat a good father idgaf

At some point Mark asks Eve to change his atoms and "make him a woman" for nine months so they can get over this

Eve says no because?? What?? The?? Fuck?? Mark??

So he asks if she can do it on will

Weird viltrumite stuff that would get omegaversy. At least in theory. Wouldn't quite work with a human

Mark attempting to clone himself

Mark accidentally coming off as racist against viltrumites in public

Already kind of established viltrumite empire, soooo. Kind of prince(ish) mark?? Unsure of how royal I can get with this without writing a literal copy of superman on his white outfit tbh

William trying to finish his midterms as his boyfriend has two different identity crisis going on in the background

EXTREMELY intense mark. Yeah yeah we hate yanderes WHATEVER I wanna have fun every once in a while god forgive a woman has preferences

Mark attempting to inject his blood on other people and accidentally kind of killing them

Mark going 'round asking female heroes if they want to surrogate (promises to pay)(gets turned down because?? fuck?? no??)

Generally just mark losing it

Idk this sounds very fun. But it is 12:52 am so maybe it's just the sleep deprivation

Edit: just remembered terra is one quarter viltrumite and got her powers, at, like, 6? I know it was because the situation she was on triggered it, but then marky didn't look older than maybe 12?, would a "normal bloomer" mark develop them about that age (???) because the sooner he develops it, the more detached he'll be to humanity, so if anyone remembers when viltrumite powers are *supposed* to kick in and tells me I'll gift them a wooden slipper

More of this au in here. Just in case

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve got the tattoo the day they held the very small, very secret service for Eddie.

He knew he had to get it somewhere hidden, didn’t wanna answer questions, not even from Robin.

The E+S on his upper thigh was precious to him, all he had left of the promises they made to each other as children and again as teenagers.

Eddie was Steve’s, even if he wasn’t here, and Steve would always be Eddie’s, even if Eddie no longer knew.

But eventually, the end of summer came, and the kids wanted to have something normal. Normal for them was a pool party that ended in a sleepover, and Steve didn’t have much choice about making it happen.

He wanted them to have something normal.

So he got his bathing suit on, forgetting the tattoo was in a spot that might show in it, and tried to have fun with them.

Robin noticed and then Max noticed, and once he’d tried getting out of the explanation twice in a row, Dustin and Will noticed.

So he just explained that he lost a dare with Tommy years ago and that got them to stop asking.

But he found himself crying in the shower that evening, trying his best not to make any noise as sobs wracked his body and it got harder and harder to breathe.

The only thing that snapped him out of it was the knowledge that Eddie would want him to go back downstairs to be with the kids. He wouldn’t want to see Steve like this.

He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his tattoo, just like he’d done every single day since he got it.

And then he went downstairs to be with the kids.

His one rule during sleepovers at his house was he still go to sleep in his own bed. Sometimes Robin would join him, but most of the time, he slept alone.

He couldn’t sleep.

He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift, he’d get an overwhelming feeling of being watched.

His eyes would open and he’d look around, confused and frustrated.

And nothing would be there.

Which was good, great even. He didn’t want there to be anyone or anything there. But he did want an explanation for this feeling.

He sat up in his bed and sighed.

Maybe he could-

Something was definitely in his bathroom. The door had been closed earlier, like it always was, and now it was halfway open.

The light was off.

Steve stood from his bed silently, crept to the bathroom with his nail bat raised, and considered what would happen if he died up here.

“That’s a depressing thought even for your melodramatics, sweetheart.”

Steve barely resisted screaming at Eddie’s voice.

“Oh god. I’ve finally fuckin’ lost it,” he said as he turned the bathroom light on.

“I dunno. You still got it, baby. Even if you lost some weight in your ass.”

Eddie, or something that looked and talked like Eddie, was sitting on the sink in the bathroom.

“I did like those little swim trunks, though. Hope you wear those again for me.”

“What the fuck.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I said when I woke up alive. Kinda thought I was dying. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t.”

Steve held his bat tighter.

“Eddie? How?”

Eddie hopped off the sink and stepped closer, slowly, so he wouldn’t scare Steve.

“Not sure. But it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened.” Eddie wanted to touch him, Steve could tell. His hands were clenching into fists to resist. “I know I’m not human, but I’m close enough, I think.”

“Close enough for what?”

“To love you.”

Steve dropped the bat and fell against Eddie, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in, not caring about the dirt or sweat or grime clinging to his skin.

It was Eddie, and he’d take him any way he could have him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get back here for so long.” Eddie’s arms held him tight enough to bruise. “Won’t happen again, won’t leave you again.”

Steve’s sobs were loud, but trying to contain them physically pained him. He’d been in enough pain for months. He had to let these out.

He felt Eddie waving his hands behind him, but then heard Robin’s rambling and decided to turn.

“-and he’s been distraught for months but didn’t tell me anything and then I saw his tattoo earlier and I thought, well, must just be a joke you guys had. And then I was like, no, can’t be, because you barely spoke. Or at least I thought you did. Clearly I’m wrong. I’m super wrong. Wrongest I’ve ever been maybe.”

“Robs.” Steve’s choked voice silenced her. “You know how I told you to go for it with Nancy because I really didn’t have feelings for her?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, but yeah.”

“She protected me, both of us, really, so we could be together. Offered to pretend to date me so no one would get suspicious.”

“Steve. Steve Harrington. You had a beard?”

Eddie snorted. “I know you said she was funny, but I’m pretty she’s my second favorite human now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been with Eddie for forever. I mean, since we were kids practically.”

Robin was silent. A rare thing for her.

“Robin?”

“Sorry, just taking this in.”

“Yeah, Eddie being alive is a lot-“

“Not that. That is gonna come a lot later once I stop and think about the fact that he’s some kind of zombie.” Robin leaned against the doorway. “The fact that I came out to my best friend and he didn’t return the favor. That is queer code, Steve.”

Eddie laughed, and Steve let out another sob. He’d missed him so much, missed his laugh, his arms around him, his heartbeat-

“Eds. Eddie.” Steve lifted his head and pressed both hands to his chest. “You-“

“Ah. So I don’t seem to have a heartbeat anymore. As far as I can tell, I did actually die.” Eddie shrugged as if this news wasn’t absolutely insane. “So my best guess is vampire since I prefer blood to brains. But I can get by without it for a pretty long time.”

“How long?”

“Well, I haven’t had any since the day I woke up. Which is a few months according to your calendar.”

Robin held her hands up. “I’m going. Good luck. The kids are gonna flip.”

“Do not tell them. Not yet.”

Steve needed tonight, needed to have Eddie to himself before everyone else stole it for a while. He wanted to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. He knew Robin would understand.

“Sure thing. But you’re gonna have to be quiet. You’re lucky none of them heard you crying.”

Steve nodded and curled back into Eddie, placing a kiss against his neck.

“Glad you’re back Eddie,” she said as she left.

“I need a shower,” Eddie said. “Think it’ll wake the kids?”

“Nah. They slept through a tree falling in the yard last month during a storm. Just need to be quick,” Steve pulled away to start grabbing what he’d need for a shower, but Eddie pulled him back on, running his nose along his neck and sending chills down his spine.

“You wanna join me?” He asked.

“Of course I do. But we won’t be quick if I join you,” Steve smiled.

A real smile. One he realized he hadn’t had on his face since spring break.

“You wanna wait in bed for me, then?” Eddie beamed back at him.

“Can I stay in here? I don’t-“ Steve sighed. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

Eddie’s smile softened into something endeared. “Yeah, sweetheart. You can stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I missed.”

Steve told him about everything he could while he showered away the Upside Down grime, watching his shadow behind the glass door of the shower to make sure it never disappeared.

They made sure the bedroom door was locked before crawling into bed together, Steve laying on top of Eddie like he always did before.

He was heavier, but Eddie never cared.

Steve slept so long, Eddie had no choice but to go downstairs in the morning so no one would wake him up.

The chaos that ensued was nothing short of overwhelming, but Eddie didn’t mind.

He was happy to back with all the kids, even if they asked incredibly inappropriate questions about his body to find out what he was.

When Steve finally came down, he was still half asleep and barely registered the open-mouth stares of everyone as he came up to Eddie and rested his head on his chest, wrapped his arms around his waist.

Eddie smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, baby.”

“Sunshine?!” Dustin yelled.

“Baby?!” Mike yelled louder.

“Make them go away,” Steve sighed against his neck.

“You don’t wanna explain?” Eddie asked him, half joking.

“Not today. Scare them or something.”

“You think Eddie can scare us? We’ve all almost died!” Lucas said.

“Fine. Eddie and I are together, have been forever. The tattoo on me is our initials. Get out of my house.”

The kids just stared at them in silence until Steve finally turned from Eddie and put his hands on his hips.

“I wasn’t asking. Get out.”

The kids scrambled to leave, making promises (threats) to come back soon.

Robin waved as she walked out with them, throwing them both a wink and knowing smile.

“So how long do you think we have until they come back?” Eddie asked, rocking them back and forth gently.

“Few hours maybe.”

“I can do a lot in a few hours,” Eddie nipped at Steve’s ear, making him shiver and laugh.

“You got super strength with your new life?” Steve grinned at him.

“I wouldn’t call it super, but I could definitely carry you back to bed.”

Steve jumped up and wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist, arms around his neck.

“Carry me to bed, then, Eds.”

“Anything your heart desires, Stevie.”

[lovecandyxx]

Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

..I think I wanna have your babies ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A/N: WOOW I finished it, honestly I did enjoy writing it but I wanted it to be with a plot and then the plot kinda dissapeared but then it reappeared so LMFOAOOO I also feel it’s kinda short i think i mightve rushed it a bit but this is my first smut fic EVERRR sooo ARGHHh!! well i hope you enjoy ‘n sorry 4 the wait luvvies!!!

Summary: Reader is just really horny and wants Logan’s babies, that’s it, that’s the plot. ♡ Contents: Smut obvs, breeding kink, teasing, p in v, fingering, a lil roughness, talks of making reader preg obvs, just.. lots of sex… lmk if i missed anything!!

I pondered around in my room taking heavy steps left and right, the thing is I could not act normal for the life of me since a few days ago, either it be because I can't control myself or my hormones are just acting up like crazy.. specifically the one's that are making my pussy throb and my head spin like crazy.

It does not help at all that I had to have physical training with my teammate, Logan, today. It's not like i'm ever boy or sex crazy but who's there to deny that Logan isn't a fucking sexy man? Just his protective and possessive nature, the way he walks and talks or how his cigars touch his lips so perfectly.. okay, maybe i'm into him a little bit.

But back to the main issue here. Because I've been acting like a sexless man lately and I was so close to Logan today, he's the victim of my dirty thoughts.. And because i'm literally just a girl.. I've been fantasizing about having his kids too.. I mean! Come on! And you really can’t blame me when you see him play and train so gently with the younger students, too.. He’d be the perfect father!

It was currently 8 PM and the sun was just about to set. I bit my lip nervously debating whether I should really do this or not. I'd put on my shortest sleeping dress and did my hair along with my make up just a little sexier than for midday activities. I threw myself off of my bed with a heavy sigh, "Fuck it."

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Now standing in front of Logan's door for about 5 minutes with my heartbeat picking up and my cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, I finally knocked.

I heard some shuffles and the door slowly opened, Logan standing there with nothing but his pyjama pants on. Thanks god, what a cliché.

Once he saw it was me he widened the door a bit more and looked at me with furrowed curious brows "What's up bub?". I swallowed hard before blurting out my next few words.

"I wanna have your babies"

Logan's brows shot up in surprise and his eyes widened a bit, I felt my cheeks getting hotter and I bit my lip. "Are you intoxicated?" Logan asked crossing his arms now. "What? No! I just.. I want..." I looked away from his gaze and sunk into deep realization of what I just truly had asked my teammate. I mumbled a soft embarrassed 'nevermind' and took a step back but felt Logan grip my arm and pull me toward him, "Are you serious, (Y/N)?"

I looked up at him with shyness and nodded softly, until I could comprehend the situation any more I was dragged into his room with one swift motion. I stumbled over my own feet as I was hit with the pure smell of tobacco and Logan's body odor.

Logan slammed the door close and walked toward me quickly, he gripped onto both of my shoulders very tightly. His gaze burned deep into my own eyes, looking up at him in a very horny and confused state.

"I need you to be very clear with me right now bub, did you realize what you just said? Are you fuckin' sure you want this?" I look down at his bare chest and ran my fingers along it gently before looking back into his eyes again. "I know what I said, and i'm really fucking sure. Get me pregnant, Logan.. Please"

That's all it took for him to lose control, basically. He had picked you up from under with both his hands gripping your ass tightly, carrying you towards his bed, you let your legs wrap around his waist and gasped. "You asked for this bub, don't complain later, I'm not gentle." He said with a rough low growl.

He threw you on his bed roughly making you bounce lightly, I supported myself with my elbows staring at Logan. "Lose the dress." He said as he shoved off his own pants and boxers, leaving his big already hardened length exposed to you.

Overwhelmed with his sudden speed and roughness I stared at him with big eyes like as if he could undress me with staring at me. My eyes landed on his cock and I swear I almost choked on air.

"For someone who wants to get fucked, you sure are slow with getting undressed" Logan teased with a deep smirk. I blushed while he looked at where my eyes landed, and his smirk deepened. "Like what you see bub? That's what ya want right?" His pure cockiness made your eyes roll and you sat up straight, taking off the dress over your head leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

"Ain't nobody got time for this, Gotta get you swollen baby." Logan said as he ripped of your panties. I whined "Logan.."

Logan ignored my whine and hurriedly crawled on top of me, resting one of his elbows beside my head, other tightly squeezed around my lower waist. His face leaned closer toward mine as he finally pressed his lips against mine roughly. I was wanting and needing more so I opened my mouth pushing my tongue in his. His tongue rushed in my mouth immediately taking over all of my senses.

His hand that rested on my waist crept down towards my now soaking folds, he gently slid his thumb in between the slit and started rubbing my clit roughly making me moan loudly releasing our kiss. "You're so wet for me baby, such a dirty girl." Logan chuckled out.

I opened my legs so he could reach easier, "Really? Opening your legs for me?" I hit his shoulder softly "Shut up Lo.." I groaned out.

Logan stopped rubbing my clit and pushed one finger inside of me, at first pumping in and out slowly. My heartbeat picked up and my chest heaved more, I let out soft heavy moans. "Fuck.."

He pushed in a second digit and started pumping just a bit faster, He looked down at my pussy then at my face again. I closed my eyes shut from pure pleasure. "You're so pretty when you're getting fucked, my pretty girl.." His pace picked up, and I felt a tight sensation in my lower belly, "Mhm~ Fuck.. Lo.."

He suddenly pulled out both his fingers and my eyes shot open, "Huh?" I noticed him smirking down at me, "You didn't think I'd let you come that fast, now did ya bub?" I groaned annoyed at him as his position shifted.

His hard tip was now pushed against my entrance making my breath hitch. He had both his elbows next to my head, towering over me.

"Ya ready for it, sweetheart?"

Before I could even think of any answer at all, Logan slammed his full length into my soaking core. I let out a loud screamed moan and threw my head back scratching at his bare chest, leaving red marks that disappeared as quick as they appeared.

He slowly dragged his hard cock out of me, and rammed into me again. I let out loud moans and hitched gasped for every thrust he gave me. I think I can literally feel his cock slamming against my womb.

The room was filled with heavy breathing and skin slapping against each other as I now scratched his back, which made Logan buck his hips and throw his head back slowly. "Fuck, You're gonna be the death of me bubs." Logan growled out, quickening his pace of thrusts.

My legs we're spread wide open with Logan thrusting in between. I felt the tightness in my core bubble up again so I wrapped my legs around his waist. Logan wasn't that far from his own orgasm also, which you could notice by the look of bliss on his face and furrowed brow, his dick twitched inside of me.

I held tightly onto Logan as he kept thrusting in and put of me, my legs still wrapped tightly around him, not letting him go and my walls fluttering around his. "Logan, I.. Fuck.." I moaned out. "I know baby, me too.. Come for me yeah?" He pleaded out in between heavy breaths. I nodded eagerly with halve lidded eyes "Don't pull out alright.." I whined out, Logan smirked and nodded also as my pussy clenched and my orgasm washed over me and my eyes rolled back. Making my back arch and toes curl. My body trembled and I gave Logan's back one last deep scratch, making it bleed.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Logan finally gave me one last thrust, flooding my throbbing walls with his cum. Logan's hips bucked, deep furrowed brows and his lips reached for mine again, Our lips we're intertwined with each other, spilling saliva and moans.

Logan had his cock still buried deep inside of me, breathing heavily, he pushed himself off, now supporting himself with his hands next to your head.

My tired eyes finally opened to look up at him again. "Damn.." I said softly. Logan smiled cockily as he finally pulled out his cock from your throbbing pussy, but before any cum could come out he quickly pushed him thumb in your aching core making you gasp. "Gotta make sure I really get you pregnant baby." he spoke.

I sighed deeply as I felt Logan's sweaty body drop on mine gently. Both out of breath. "Did you get what you want?" Logan teased, "Not sure, got to take a test to find out." I joked back, we both giggled but then realization set in. "Wait. FUCK. Logan I really gotta get a test.."

Logan chuckled at your sudden reaction outburst, "Yeah yeah, tomorrow morning bub." He adjusted himself on his bed and then pulled you next to him, resting you gently in his arms, cuddling you. I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed while he kissed the top of your head.

"But yeah, I did get what I really wanted though." I giggled.

A/N: I didn’t proofread it yet, i’ll do it later since it is once again.. 2 AM… HOPE IT NOT TOO SHORT… N’ HOPE U BBYS ENJOY,, LMK!!!!

MUCH LOVE, CANDYYYY 💗💗💗💗

Divider cr: @uzmacchiato

[willowser]

i keep thinking about touya going to the same spot he and his ex do drop off, every two weeks. it's outside some little bakery that he thinks is too expensive—and he has a sneaking suspicion that's why his baby mama chose the place—but he always buys his little bug something regardless. a pink pastry with lots of sprinkles and frosting, in the shape of a unicorn or something or other.

and you always come with him. have been for a few years now and you make friendly small talk with his ex and when his daughter jumps into your arms, you swing her around and you both giggle to each other, foreheads pressed together, eyelashes blinking close enough to make his heart swell.

and the first time you're not there, his daughter doesn't wait a minute after jumping out of her mom's car to frown up at him and ask, "where's bub?"

and truthfully, touya's been dreading this moment since he'd pissed you off enough to have you storming out of his apartment, a few days ago. still doesn't know what to tell her, how to explain that he's never loved someone the way he loves you and yet he's sabotaging everything anyway.

"bub is at bub's house."

her light little eyebrows pull down ever further, until a crease forms between them, and then she even takes another look behind him in case he's joking. "why?"

touya grinds his gum between his teeth and tells himself it's better than a cigarette. "she just is."

his ex doesn't say anything, thank god, but he can feel the once over she gives him. he looks like shit and he knows it, because he's aggravated and disappointed in himself, and all the things he'd normally use to deal with those feelings would break his sobriety. so he's only got some spearmint gum.

his daughter doesn't say anything else until they're in their seats on the train, her by the window, drawing shapes in the fog her breath makes. they go through a tunnel and the light from the day disappears and she loses interest, turning to stare up at touya as he closes his eyes and leans his head back as far as it can go.

"are you and bub mad at each other?"

touya opens his eyes, but stares only at the ceiling of the train. all he can see is the hurt on your face when he'd yelled at you, the anger that he drew out, like a poison. "it's—" one thing he tries not to do to his kid, however, is lie. "somethin' like that."

she shuffles around in her seat until she's facing him fully, leaning her head against the back of it as she blinks her big, blue eyes up at him. "did she be mean to you?"

"no."

"did you be mean to her?"

it seems so complicated, when touya thinks about it. why he'd started a fight with you, where his insecurity comes from, why he wants you so bad but is too afraid to admit it out loud—but then his kid makes it seem so easy. so silly.

touya shuffles until he's facing her, too, and even scoots down in his chair so they're eye-level, almost like whispering school girls at a slumber party. "yeah," he admits. "i was kinda mean to her."

"but why?"

touya frowns and still doesn't know what to say. the city skyline opens up behind her, out in the distance, and he watches the setting sun over the buildings until it starts to make him sick. "you remember when you had that scooter, and you fell and scraped your knee?" she nods. "and then you didn't want to ride it anymore because you were afraid you'd do it again? it's...like that."

not a single look of understanding comes across her face.

touya sighs and scoots back upright, bending to dig his phone from his pocket. "you wanna talk to her?"

"yeah!"

he pulls up your contact in his phone—just your name and all the hearts removed, because he's petty like that—but instead of staring at it like he has been for days—he finally calls. it wouldn't surprise him if you didn't answer, but he gnaws his lip as it rings, and it seems like he and his little girl both hold their breath.

"hello?"

when he hands off the phone to his daughter, she happily snatches it up, turning on her knees to look out the window as she grins. "hi bub!"

and touya still doesn't know what to say or how he'll fix it, but he finds some comfort—some of the words—when he hears the tone in your voice change, all sing-song and adoring. "hi, my angel!"

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

My Best Friends Brother (part 2)

Player 001 x Reader [Smut]📖

Masterlist <- comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1

“Okay” you breathe heavily as his big hand wraps around your neck, pulling your head back so he can attach his lips to your neck. “Wait, In Ho”

“What now?” He groans exasperatedly.

“No marks”

“You got burned with the curling iron” he said, continuing to leave a deep hickey on your neck. He pushes you off his lap. Pulling his sweats down a little bit so he could pull his cock out. “Sit down on me” he orders. He pulls your thong to the side so you can slide down on his cock. A low groan left his chest as you sank down. A whimper arising from you. You sat on his cock.

“Fuck” you drawled in a high breathy voice.

“Yeah? Does my cock feel that good?” He teases. “Play.” He tells you as you continued your game as he slowly thrusted into you. You played, trying to keep your composure. He thrusted faster, obviously racing to his own orgasm, yours wasn’t important in that moment. He pressed a hand to your back, making you bend over his desk as he fucked into you. “Such a good fucking girl” he said huskily into your ear.

“Mom, I’m home. Is (y/n) here yet?” You heard Jun-Ho’s voice.

“Yes, she’s in In Ho’s room, can you tell them to come out for dinner?”

In Ho thrusted faster, hoping to reach his orgasm before Jun Ho got there.

“Oh my god”

“Shut the fuck up and play” he said roughly. You continued to play, feeling him release his cum inside you. You sat back normally on his cock just as the door handle turned.

“What’re you doing in here?’ Jun Ho said as his eyes set upon you sitting on In Ho’s lap.

“I’m playing call of Duty” you say.

“Sitting on my brother’s lap?” He asked skeptically. He eyed you with suspicion. “Anyway, Mom said dinner’s ready so finish that match and come out” He said leaving the door open. You stood, feeling In Ho’s cum leak out of you. He stood up, his size pushing you against his desk. He grabbed your neck roughly and kissed you.

“If i see you cuddled up with Jun- Ho tonight, I’m gonna put a bullet through his head. You’re mine” he pushed you away from him roughly. You and him walked out to the living room. You sat next to their mom. Rapidly serving yourself after they all sat.

“Holy shit, (y/n), what happened to your neck” Jun Ho asked. In Ho looked up, alarms going off in his head.

“Curling Iron” you laughed. “I was getting ready for work and burnt myself on accident.”

“Mom, have you seen it?” Jun Ho asked.

“Yes, I saw it when she came in. I gave her some cream.” Relief set in, you let out a quiet breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You and In Ho shared a quick look.

“Any of you want a drink? I have Whiskey?” You guys all took one.

Once dinner was finished, you and Jun Ho went to the living room. Watching a horror movie on the couch when In Ho came out of his room.

“What’re you idiots watching?” In Ho asked, passing you a mixed drink.

“It’s the conjuring series” You say.

“Yeah, a new movie came out, so we decided to rent all of them and watch them in chronological order.” Jun Ho said.

“Scoot over (y/n)” In Ho said pushing you.

“Damn, In Ho, you don’t have to be so rude” Jun Ho commented. In Ho shrugged getting under the big blanket you and Jun Ho were sharing. Sneaking his hand down on your thigh, gripping it tightly. The three of you kept drinking and watching movies.

“Hey (y/n)” their dad walked in. “I swear, you haven’t gone home a day in your life” he joked as you stood to hug him. You skirt flying up as you stood. In Ho stared at your ass.

“I just love it here” you smile innocently.

“Can you guys move? You’re blocking the TV” Jun Ho said moving his head trying to see around you.

“Hi Jun Ho. Hi In Ho” their father said, before walking into the kitchen. “Can you kids watch TV somewhere else? I wanna watch the game tonight” their dad said. Not really asking.

“Come on Guys, lets go to my room. I have a bigger TV” In Ho stood and walking to his room. You and Jun Ho following behind, sharing confused looks. In Ho set up the movie, starting it where it stopped. You laid comfortably in his bed.

Time skip: Later at night.

“Okay, I’m gonna head to bed.” Jun Ho says.

“yeah, I’m gonna head home.” You said slurring your words as you stumbled to your feet.

“No you’re not. You can hardly stand. Sit down” In Ho said pushing you back down.

“But I”

“You’re not walking home drunk (y/n)” Jun Ho agreed, tiredly. “It’s too late to tell Mom to get her a bed ready…”

“I guess she can sleep in my bed” In Ho sighed reluctantly.

“That’s what I was thinking. I don’t have a big enough bed for the both of us and Dad’s asleep on the couch.” Jun Ho agreed again. “Well goodnight (y/n)” Jun Ho pat your head at you got into bed, mumbling a goodnight.

Tag list

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @player279achlys @watasinekoru

[cameronsbabydoll]

Hi I loved SCC it literally altered my brain in a good way bc of your writing🩷🩷 do you think SCC! Reader one day just snaps, like full blown crashes out at Rafe for everything he’s done to her? I feel like she’s normally very calm and internalizes everything but maybe Rafe just said something to make her snap ( maybe he’s being mean abt reader making a simple mistake and calling her a bad mom/wife ie the only thing she’s allowed to be and she just loses it, and I mean lose it like actively full blown crashout for all the emotions that have been pent up for years) I just wanna see Rafe get yelled at and actually feel bad that he ruined her life.

Maybe she says something like “I hope our daughter doesn’t end up with a man like you”

idk I just want her to finally vocalize the things she’s been burying for years and take a bit of her power back yk?

it starts over something stupid.
a lunchbox left on the counter.
a slip you forgot to sign.

you apologize, soft and guilty, already beating yourself up for it.
but rafe just scoffs — like he’s disgusted.
like you failed him.

"you had one job."
"jesus, you can’t even manage that?"

and that’s it.

your hands are still trembling when the words rip out of your mouth.
loud. shaking. breathless.

“i gave up everything for this.”

he looks at you like you’ve gone insane.
and maybe you have. maybe that’s what happens when you bottle it up for too long — when you trade your life for a pretty little prison and pretend it’s what you wanted.

“i don’t go out. i don’t see anyone. i don’t do anything unless it’s for you or the kids—i don’t even know who the fuck i am anymore.”

you’re crying now, and you hate it.
hate the way your voice warbles.
hate the way he stares.

but you can’t stop.

“i used to be someone. i had dreams. i had friends. i had hope. and now i’m just—what? your wife? the mother of your kids? the woman who stays home and makes everything look perfect?”

he moves to speak, but you keep going.

“don’t. don’t you fucking dare try to twist this into something sweet. you took me. you trapped me. you called it love and locked the door behind me.”

his face shifts. something soft. something scared.

you know he didn’t expect this.

and that’s when you say it.
quiet. breathless. shaking all over.

“i hope our daughter never ends up with a man like you.”

his mouth opens. closes.
nothing comes out.

for once, you’re the one who leaves him speechless.
and god, it hurts — but it also feels like the first real breath you’ve taken in years.

[sunboki]

⎯ boy of the forest. ⟡ featuring yang jeongin

🦌 : Greek god! Yang Jeongin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. Greek mythology! au, Son (unofficial since Artemis swore to celibacy) of Artemis! au, mortal! reader au, slightly sheltered Jeongin (he’s so respectful i wanna cry), fluff fluff fluff, best friends to lovers, slight angst, so soft

WORD COUNT. 8.7k words ☆ 40min read

WARNINGS. usage of arrows, dubcon kiss, mention/heavily focused on greek gods/goddesses, mention of animal bones, inclusion of a venomous snake, playful fighting

AUG'S NOTES. this wait has been going on for too long! so glad to finally present this fic, it holds a whole lot of my heart in it :) pleas enjoy!!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Since you were a child, both tales and encounters with the children of the gods became a prevalent pattern in life. Friendship with Hermes’ son, those early morning by the water allowing interaction with Poseidon’s child. And yet, your intrigue upon hearing word of the unofficial offspring of Artemis, sired under her teachings and oaths in a forest most avoided drew you infinitely closer. So what happens when curiosity gets the best of you?

or alternatively :

How quickly one can turn from a stranger to a beloved.

“I— I forfeit!”

Shouts Han, smacking the skin of your thigh repeatedly for you to loosen your death-like grip around his head.

Either of you furiously tussle on the muddy ground of Sokcho’s eastern coastline as if routine, where utter delight in each of the messenger-to-be’s visits end in a few new bruises and a judgemental eyeball from your father when you trudge through the door.

With him being the son of Hermes, your daily visits from Han Jisung had been shortened to weekly once he became more and more occupied taking up his role as the messenger god’s offspring, so you truly give it your all each time his face comes into view.

Which usually means bowling the boy over the moment his winged-shoes touch ground.

Of course, all in good fun. You’ve known the kid since you were a child, listening with wonder as he explained all about his life in Olympus, his father, Hermes, his abilities.

Upon first glance he appears a normal, awkward teenager, but gold coloration swimming within his irises and superhuman reflexes, stamina, and speed, you knew better than to believe that.

Luckily, he gives you a fair fight whenever you spar, ensuring no foul play leads to unfair victories. 

Meaning: you win, every time.

Breathing in a huge gasp, the both of you collapse onto sodden soil, chests heaving to replace expelled air. Of course, getting kicked in the stomach and returning the favor with a solid punch to his jaw didn’t help with that factor.

“Three… Three weeks,” You pant, the equally grimy back of your hand swiping strands of hair from a sweaty forehead. 

Han mindlessly grunts from below you, body refusing to move even a mere centimeter.

“Yeah yeah, I get it. I’m nothing against you, rub it in.”

You croak a laugh at the sheer exasperation in his tone, accustomed to your feigned gloating antics.

“No– That’s not it Sungie, I just wanted to say.” Using your arms to hold you up while surveying the similarly battered man whose head rests on your stomach, you tip his chin upwards with a finger, forcing those irrevocably hypnotizing eyes to meet yours.

Never sunken, tired.

Han Jisung was a marvel.

And for a moment, he begins to think you’ve grown soft after these years.

“I still won.”

Nevermind.

Whining with dismay, he takes the hand you extend out to him upon standing, earning a playful smack to the shoulder whilst collecting the shoes so carelessly discarded up by the dunes.

Feet sinking into the warm sand below, you’re offered a moment to spare a glance back to the lapsing waters, tumbling over themselves with morning’s ferocious tides. 

This is the only time you usually get to see him, and as if a mere memory, he’ll disappear all the same.

Townspeople were never fond of children of the gods. They spoke of mischief, ill-doing in response to their appearances. 

A long-lived grudge, one from ancestor after ancestor. And yet, most chose to live ignorant to the swirling deities all around. Those more gracious sunny days when someone mentions Helios, or the subdued waves compared to that of merciless plunder ashore by Poseidon.

As a result, Han never stayed long, leading you to arrive by this peculiarly isolated portion of the beach at dawn for his quick stops before flying off.

You didn’t mind. It was worth it in the end. 

Early wake-ups, that is.

Arriving randomly and becoming a part of you habitually. Like an old cut turning into a scar, commemorating happenings of the past.

It didn’t take your father long to grow curious over what his daughter rushed off to every day. And so, about a year ago, you told him. All about Han’s sudden presence, then developing into a friend–a best friend.

Fortunately, he wasn’t upset in the slightest. Initially disbelieving, perhaps, but not angry nor discontented.

In fact, the man seemed more interested than anything, asking you abundant questions about what he looked like, his features, aptitude.

You didn’t blame him, for it wasn’t every day news of an interaction with the ancient bloodline was spoken of.

Instead, you indulged in those child-like curiosities just as avidly as he inquired, resulting in frenzied conversation at the dinner table for a multitude of hours that night.

“Jisung!” 

Having called his name after the harsh knock back into reality, you fish through your pockets before he leaves in recollection of something you’d been wanting to give him.

The boy’s face deadpans, obviously awaiting another one of your tricks.

“If you flick me off, I’m never coming back.”

Fretful shuffling dulls his mumble inaudible, merely humming in acknowledgment and successfully clutching the metal between your index and thumb after panicked searching.

A pin, like that attached to tote bags, jeans. 

“For you to put on your bag, so you can think of me all the time.” 

The wink of yours causes him to wrinkle his nose and stick out his tongue at you, and you can’t help your smile from growing bigger and bigger the longer he investigates the apparent pin you’ve placed in his palm.

“Is this… a pigeon?”

Out of all the birds you’ve been teaching him about in your realm, he had to pick the most pitiful one.

“No! We studied this one! It’s a hawk, y’know since you’re kind of like a bird?” Flapping your arms to sell the idea, he huffs in exasperation, nonetheless fitting the pin to his satchel overflowing with envelopes.

“Alright alright.” Laughing at the pout tugging at his lips, it’s almost instinctive when you press a sugary sweet kiss to his cheek, soaked up gleefully by Hermes’ son like always.

Han Jisung is very much adoring of your affection. Frankly, any affection overall.

“Think it’s about time you get going, delivery boy.”

Flying into your arms (both figuratively and literally), he places his own kiss to your opposing cheek, grinning that irritably charming grin ceaselessly worn.

Guessing what he’ll say next comes easily, but you still entertain the remark anyway.

“Now our kisses complete each other!” He predictably exclaims, beginning to levitate as the miniature wings on his sneakers beat tirelessly. “See you soon Y/N! Stay safe!!”

Waving in response while he drifts further and further into the atmosphere, you wait until his figure is officially gone to move, stepping toward the dock. This way, you can secure the best view of the sunrise peering above clouds without any interruptions. 

Ideal.

Truthfully, it never irked you being a mortal amongst your assortment of acquaintances.

You enjoyed it, actually. 

Freedom without responsibility to save from evil left you plenty of time to explore, to exist. Not that you didn’t respect them, but the experience seemed too tasking for your liking.

“Back again?”

Speaking of acquaintances.

More specifically speaking of Poseidon as a pair of calloused—though gentle—hands fasten around your calves dangling off the dock’s edge, dragged into the chilly depths below before you can reply by none other than Chan, or, using his birth name, Christopher Bahng.

Son of Poseidon.

Ironic.

Not to mention are there any daughters of the gods..? Jeesh.

Anyway.

You half expected him to tap your shoulder and say hello when hearing him approach from behind as he normally did, the creaking in the dock’s wooden panels enough indication your friend was present on most occasions.

Although unlike Han Jisung, Chris was sporadic in his visits. An old friend from school, he chose to keep his identity a secret, allowing the eccentric father of his to care for the seas while he led a human life teaching kids how to swim at your town’s aquatic center.

Upon finding you speaking to Han in his natural form, a year or so ago, the man eventually found ease in your company as well, comfortable revealing himself and oftentimes showing up to simply converse without turtle necks or high-collared swimsuits concealing the set of gills right below his ears.

In actuality, a part of you was happy he had to hide his gills—meaning that swoon-worthy mop of curly blond hair could grow out, curling behind his ears and furling into wild strands atop his head. 

It didn’t take a genius to note how attractive Christopher Bahng was, and you certainly weren’t immune to the effect.

Careful grasp of your hips reminding you you’re safe, mere moments prevail before breaching the water’s surface, complaining about the cold while the bear of a man practically suffocates you in his arms, twisting side to side in a tight hug despite your ingenuine anger swallowed beneath laughter.

“Seriously, you can’t just do that! I might die of shock one day.”

“Well you’re definitely not that weak from how beat up poor Han looked,” He giggles, gliding with ease through chilled waters no matter your weight, courtesy of his bloodline (and whatever hell of a workout regime he followed).

About to retaliate, you pause, contemplating.

“Hey! You should’ve told me you were watching,” Stubbornly insistent, you allow the gentleman to lift you back onto the dock, his own gill-retaining form remaining in the water beneath your faux glare.

Something he grows sheepish in regards to before pointing to a blanket behind you.

So your near-drowning experience was pre-planned. 

Jerk.

Although you don’t deny the goosebumps littering your arms and legs, hurriedly wrapping the warm fabric around yourself.

“Nah,” He smiles, fingers carding through unbearably endearing locks. “I wanted to see how it played out. You’ve improved a lot.”

Reaching his hand upward where you can return the fist-bump, you nod at the compliment, referring to the fact Chris taught you how to fight in the first place after your many losses against Han’s sneak attacks, something the latter still moped over to this day. 

“Thanks to you,” You add, not missing the dimples dipping into his skin when he grins. 

So. Very. Attractive.

Both turning to witness the fullness of today’s dawn, you can’t help but soak in the sight, carving each detail into your memory. 

How lucky you are to get to see something this striking, the sky painted in innumerable streaks of warm hues.

“Say,” Redirecting his attention back to you, you balance your jaw on your hand, the pretty view provoking a bit of thinking.

“Are there any other god’s here? Or like, children of the gods?”

Assessing your question, Chris’s eyes surf his surroundings thoughtfully, wracking his mind for anyone he can think of.

“Hm,” A decisive grunt sounds where a tugs a plush bottom lip between his teeth. A sight as easy to get infatuated with as the sunrise.

“Han’s an exception since he pretty much drops by everywhere, and I’m over here because of the ocean and the location but uh… there might be? From what I’ve heard there’s likely at least one other here. You might have better luck asking Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin being the son of Eros, god of love. 

Someone you’ve never met, but both Han and Chris relayed he’s the epitome of beauty.

Coming from them, that’s a feat.

You deflate.

“In Seoul?”

Yeah, no way you’re finding a way to Seoul for that. Bus fees, subway fees, coming up with an excuse to your dad? Not happening.

Chris, realizing the unrealistic circumstance, deflates along with you, expression apologetic that you hope to condole with a reassuring smile.

Noting the rate in which your clothes are drying thanks to the warmth of the sun’s rays, you gather your things, stalling when your friend—now drying off beside you—speaks up again.

“Ah, right! There is one! I’ve only met him a few times before at meetings and gatherings, but he’s the son of Artemis– well, not by birth but that’s a long story- and his name is… Jeong? Yin? No no, it’s Yang, Yang Jeongin! Yep, that’s the guy. He’s a little shy but a real cutie.”

Cringing back from the sly manner he nudges your shoulder, the high, mischievous lift of his brows indicate nothing but trouble. 

If this is the mischief the townspeople mentioned, you’re starting to understand now.

Who knew the son of Poseidon was turning into a figment of Cupid?

Then again, you don’t think you’ve ever heard the name before. 

Waving goodbye and thanking him for the help, your hike toward the road fills with nothing but wry banter and playful insults from the older one until dividing separate ways.

Him to the aquatic center to prep for class, you back home.

Routine.

Not-so-gracefully peeling frigid clothing from your body, the warm water of your showerhead after sneaking through quiet halls to the bathroom is greatly welcomed, mind racing while attempting to focus on sudsing shampoo into your scalp. 

But when you close your eyes, reevaluation of past events and retrieval of a specific memory breach the forefront of your mind.

Yang Jeongin.

He’s giving you something to think about.

The Saturday market beckons superior business to any other day of the week, town square amassed in bustling vendors and the clink! of cash deposited into registers alike. As usual, the Bahng family hones the most fish sales (a matter the both of you chuckle at, with Poseidon’s family as the town’s greatest fishermen, ironically).

However, most locals, like yourself, steer clear of wandering customers, often relocating towards the outskirts in search of things to do.

As for today, you spend your time entertaining grandmothers with silly stories, one hand reaching to soothe the ache in your back from arduous strawberry picking. 

February’s harvest is always abundant, Demeter’s grace within the plentiful yield. 

“Alright alright, all I’m saying is keep your eye out, yeah? ‘Could be Hermes’ son delivering your daily mail, you never know?”

The sly smile tugging at your lips is met with conjoined hackling from the elderly crowd, dispelling your tales as nothing more than a jest—ignorant to the truthfulness of the statement.

And yet, having begun a decent distance from the group, your steps in dropping off the strawberries falls still, a sharp, barely perceptible silhouette rushing past rendering whatever earlier thoughts forgotten.  

The forest. 

No, you aren’t superstitious, but the near glow of eyes from those darkened shadows remains unmistakable.

Truth be told, most were advised not to enter these forests. Never had there been an outright reason, simply that it was dangerous and uncharted. 

If uncharted, how could it be dangerous? 

…Right?

Internally shrugging off your logically hesitant thoughts, you maneuver between haggard branches and hawthorn brambles, watching the surroundings forestry darken the further you venture, limiting visibility. 

So green, so alive. As if a new world had opened the moment you stepped inside.

Or, in other words, a new domain.

Someone’s new domain.

The feeling is almost serene, hidden from the outside, lost amongst endless expanses of oak and fern in every direction.

No sign of the eyes.

Hm.

As a precaution, however, you leave an evident mess nearest to the entrance, not planning to go too far in order to make it back before nightfall.

Just.. curiosity, right? You’ll be out and back in no time.

The crackle beneath your shoes of twigs indicate an obvious inexperience towards exploration, each sound contributing to the lift of your head, quickened surveillance trying to take in each and every aspect. 

Birds above, the skittering of animals in trees.

Most notably, no sight nor sound of another human, as if disproving your prior observation.

Just where were those eyes? 

“..Hello?”

If there was, in fact, anything dangerous in this forest, you’ve certainly made yourself noticeable with the volume of your voice.

No response.

A part of you mentally berates the child-like wonder spurring you on, the yearning to discover any spectacle in close radius.

However, of the many things you’d like to quell, getting lost in your thoughts seems insistently stubborn.

It’s a sharp hiss, source easily detectable, that shakes you from the daydream-like headspace, watching the snake begin to lunge as if in slow motion.

A pit-viper. 

This is what makes the forest dangerous.

A sharp gasp on your part, but yet to be faster.

Is this how it ends?

How pathetic.

What brings the air back into your lungs, nonetheless, isn’t the stinging sensation of a venomous bite, but the whizz of an arrow flying right past your cheek, landing in the dead-center of the reptile’s head and gluing it to the leafy underbrush below.

Attention immediately flickering over your shoulder does the oxygen escape your being for a second time, this occasion more awe-filled than terror-stricken.

Those eyes.

Like emeralds where they peer down at you, partially covered by a messy head of hair, tipped in silent inquisition. The savior of yours pays no mind in introduction, adjusting his quiver and bow into its coordinated position where he crouches on a branch, like that of a leopard surveying its next meal.

And although you don’t know how, his name comes to you in minutes, legs like jelly upon finally moving, placing distance between yourself and the now-deceased snake.

“Jeongin? Yang Jeongin?”

His head proceeds to wordlessly tilt, almost uncanny in the owl-like resemblance before he becomes a mere flash of motion again, appearing behind you and earning a choked inhale in return.

Perhaps mute? 

Or maybe not a people person, who knows.

This forest doesn’t seem to have many visitors, anyway.

Yet, he pays you no mind, alternatively focused on retrieving the utilized arrow embedded in the snake’s skull before rising to his full height.

Tall, fits the description well enough.

Yeah. This guy isn’t human.

“Could.. Could I touch you?”

He speaks!

Though, the request was a bit strange despite the man honing a quieted, surprisingly kind voice.

Then it hits you. The familiarity with the name Artemis back during Chris’ introduction.

She’s of the many chastity goddesses, not to mention a hunting and a maiden goddess—meaning she never had children nor married, which explains the complication when Chris was explaining him a few days ago.

Seems you were too enthralled with the news of her son, not necessarily the origins.

Also explaining his hesitation when regarding you, as if you were a being he couldn’t dare lay eyes upon.

It made you want to laugh, honestly, imagining his stubborn goddess of a mother scolding the boy before you.

“Sure,” Comes your reply, observing as Jeongin investigates your arms, apparently searching for bites. He wears this blank expression, but you can see the curiosity hidden within dark, albeit gleaming eyes.

“You’re not smart.”

Oh, thanks.

“Huh?” Craning forward to ensure you heard him right, you’re once again met with a thoughtless face—one that doesn’t seem to understand what those words entail by the lack of guilt visible there.

Yet, it doesn’t seem he means poor. Nor that he understands the complexity of his words.

“The forest.” He waves his hand around, bringing awareness to the rustling in shrub patches and the sound of wings fanning in the distance. “Is not safe for you.”

You only nod, finding the manner in which he speaks to you sweet. 

Not meaning to sound offensive, no, simply observant, informative.

His statements are blunt and quick, lacking emotionality but containing inklings of concern regardless.

This one hasn’t met many mortals, apparently.

“Why?” Pushing further into the topic, you bite back your cough of surprise, blinking rapidly when he links his finger with yours, thumb smoothing over the top of your hand like a caress of consolation.

“Soft,” Jeongin murmurs, oblivious to his actions as you come to understand what he’s talking about, pointing to his own hand opposing yours.

“Rough.”

Ah.

You get it now. 

His way of saying you aren’t fit for the forest, considering your hands being soft compared to his own rough ones, an almost immature way of explanation that you find yourself charmed by.

Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to heed to it.

His warning, that is.

“But what if I don’t want to go?”

A quick blink, gaze fluttering down, then up, then back down.

Thinking face. 

And he pouts. Pouts.

Maybe it’s because of his status, his divinity, how incredulously handsome he is. 

Or maybe it’s just that you’re already smitten.

“Then.” He lets go of your hand, pinkies intertwined for a moment longer than necessary. “Stay close.” 

Immediately after, Jeongin starts off, obviously anticipating you to follow him by the manner in which he glances behind him. 

Somehow, he managed to miraculously end up in a tree, deemed supernatural with the ease in which the action was performed— a perfectly almond-shaped stare investigating your unmoving frame below.

“Afraid?” 

More like surprised. 

“No, you’re just.. different from anyone I’ve ever met before. This is different from anything I’ve ever done before.”

Sparing a few seconds to process your sentence, he wets his lips, maintaining a comfortably balanced squat.

“Who are the people you’ve met before?”

Just when he asks the question does the town lights in the distance flicker off, and you’re reminded of the minimal time you have to stay here.

“I..”

The words die on your tongue. 

You don’t want to go. There’s so much you want to know, so many questions to ask.

“I’ll tell you all about it another time, but I have to go home now,” Reluctantly began, an index is pointed toward the direction you had come from. Or, more accurately, where you thought you came from.

Instead, your once lit path is shrouded in darkness, unable to see exactly where you’re headed, where you even entered initially.

“Home?” Again he tips his head, failing to help the responsible side of your mind force you home.

Cute.

Gosh, Chris wasn’t kidding.

“Yes, home. Outside of here, outside of the forest. Could you,” You internally debate, chewing your bottom lip in contemplation. “Could you take me there?”

Way to put the guy to work.

Save my life, now take me home, please.

Luckily, your brewing guilt is staunched as hastily as it rises with his mere nod. Perhaps you could add that to the assortment of reasons why you like him, honesty making for easy decisions, conversation. 

Extending a hand for you to take, you dutifully keep pace wherever he leads, rather impressed at his awareness, watching his attention swivel left and right, assessing the sounds, sights. 

He certainly belongs to the forest.

Occasionally he’ll stop, holding his arm out in front of you and fetching the wooden bow, firing it into the distance only for a chortled hiss to respond. 

How does he see these things?

“How do you live here?” Thinking aloud, Jeongin hums in response, shaking his head.

“Not here. I live in the center, it’s much safer there.”

No, it must be the other way around. The forest belongs to him. 

And with that, you continue onward till the fading glow of streetlights peeks through leaves and trees, a sign you’re close to home.

“Were you-“ More hesitation, inked in the hitch of your words, the glance over his shoulder. “Were you watching me?”

A foot before he reaches the edge does Jeongin stop, granting you another peek returned with a sheepish smile. 

“I heard voices,” Comes his monotonous reply, hand reaching to gently smooth a bit of your hair between two fingers. “And I like this.”

Your hair, he ambiguously compliments.

I like your hair.

A part of you could have laughed at the hilarity, but instead, you merely grin like an idiot.

A happy idiot.

Your heart nearly stops when he tries returning the action, lips pulled awkwardly high, teeth bared like a feisty cat.

He’s trying to match your smile.

Jeongin is stupid cute. 

Guess you can’t be mad at Chris anymore.

“Bye bye!” Shouted a ways away, one hand lifts to wave to a confused Jeongin who, once again, attempts to mimic you, something you’re placing in your hall of fame of favorite moments.

“Good.. bye.”

His own hand lifting in a makeshift wave remains the single memory left in your mind that night, cursing Hypnos for failing to drag you asleep, instead accursed to roll left to right sleeplessly until dawn allows some shut-eye in its early hours.

And when you close your eyes, the gleaming of emeralds dancing beneath your eyelids betrays all that lies in your mind.

“Jeongin! Jeongin!” Shouted from the edge of the forest, minutes pass squinting at dense foliage before a curious pair of eyes becomes noticeable within the greenery.

From familiarity comes something habitual, like with Han, now with Jeongin. 

Daily visits, hoping to satiate your interest that never wanes. 

That is, under the excuse you’ve gotten into hunting as an explanation to Han, Chris, and your father. Yet, the knowing glances from Chris says he already has an idea of the truth behind your story.

It’s not that you necessarily want to hide your association with Jeongin, but the minuscule thrill gained each step through dark underbrush feels as if some deep secret hides behind the trees, your secret, together.

Plus, the last thing you need on your head is a new target for Jisung’s jeering. 

“I brought snacks, want to try some?” 

Lifting the hand holding a plastic bag of goods, you shuffle closer towards the man, granted an ultimately confused stare at said bag. 

Silent, but expressive enough you don’t require a word to understand his response prior to stepping into his territory.

Immediately, as if he were some treat-adoring puppy, he’s practically breathing down your neck to see inside the bag, chin resting upon your shoulder as you lift the contents, brows furrowed quizzically.

“Banana milk, Gimbap for us to share, and– Honey Butter chips,” You hum, lips curving into a breathless smile watching his fascinated expression simply heighten with each discovery.

“I… was thinking of Soju, but knowing your mother, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Soju?” He echoes, earning your nod as you glance back at where he props his head upon your shoulder.

“Hm,” A nod, reaching up to pat his cheek with a small huff of laughter.

Like a child, this one.

“Alcohol.” 

His small hum of acknowledgment resounds, and you can’t help but choke on a giggle where he presses his nose into your shoulder, seemingly intent on smelling the fabric. 

“Ocean,” Jeongin observes, swift to nod where he wordlessly slips from his place beside you, coaxed into your usual position whenever led to the center of the forest. 

A few weeks back you mentioned your other “godly” friends, namely Chris. That, and the weekly visits to meet Jisung by those same shores, a matter he acknowledges with the dip of his head, taking position in front of you.

Usual position being his hand in yours, always going ahead to scout. …And those repeated glances that leave your heart stuttering in your chest.

Doting, in his silent way of doing things. Those times he’d save the last piece of bread you’d bring from the market solely for you, or listen intently when you’d speak, eyes never straying from yours. 

The tiny crack of a smile tugging at his lips when you’ll tell him about some funny run-in with a grandmother, or the nearly innate sense of knowing he holds, able to detect your fatigue in ample time and beckon you to a carefully arranged bed of furs you find yourself napping in too many times to count.   

No less, he was right that first time you met. The center of the forest is peaceful. A home hidden from the rest of the world.

Compliant streams sifting past aged pebbles, old stone pathways you can’t help but wonder the age of, and the grasses under your feet, soft like a blanket when the both of you flop down after venturing for hours.

Rainy days, when everything is dark and mysterious. And mornings, heat subdued beneath leafy branches.

Wolf and bear-skin, he’s informed the furs as, along with a fox-pelt, fasten over his arrow quiver to salvage throughout winter. 

Skillful, in all manner of things. Utilizing his hunts as food, jewelry, or fertilizer for an ecosystem more abundant than ever imaginable, all seeming to flock around Jeongin like a forest prince.

A good title: Forest Prince.

Like now, where you sprawl on the forest floor, plastic bag ransacked of its contents that Jeongin investigates thoroughly, each item brought to his nose to smell.

Apparently either ignorant or immune to the twitter of a bird having taken perch on his shoulder. 

“I’d say.. these things are kind of like Onigiri, but you’ve never had Onigiri, right? Ah, then it’s like.. seaweed, with rice and meat filling. This one has..”

Continuing on and on, consciously, you’d like to apologize for your neverending chatter, though at the moment, his acknowledging nods and patient gaze fixed your way with each bite you hold to his lips keeps you ignorant, savoring.

Because the thought strikes you how separated he’s been from the world despite residing mere miles from a mortal like yourself, and you don’t want to take advantage of it, take these interactions and teachings with that of the world outside of the forest for granted. 

Not to mention the world inside the forest you learn more of each waking moment, almost well-versed enough to lead to the center of the forest yourself.

Of course, the sweet narrow of his eyes usually keeps the cocky offer at bay most days. 

Most days. 

After receiving his scolding glare upon getting ahead of yourself, the small furrow of his brows where he patches up your scraped knee, the cuts along your forearms from sharp shrubbery patches. 

Learning, growing. You teach him, he teaches you.

An exchange the both of you have grown rather accustomed to, something looked forward to. Day after day, hour after hour. Like children, frolicking in the wooded expanse with an fervor unable to be quenched. 

“Catch me!” You’d call from afar, watching his face alight, ignorant to the matter you were, in fact, his first friend (aside from plenty of forest acquaintances, such as the visiting robins).

And that, that smile curving at his lips became one only you could provoke. Saved just for you. 

Clouds scatter the atmosphere, dousing Sokcho in an endless gradient of grays and blue, hinting at an incoming storm from the low rumble here and there. 

However, your attention has long since been occupied. Located within the forest as if a second home, a focused gaze settles upon the scavenging rabbit scampering along fern-filled underbrush, each careful, apprehensive flicker of its tall ears keeping your breath bated.

“Elbow back.”

Concentration on the rabbit, and simultaneous acknowledgement to the man standing just behind you, pressed to your frame. 

Easily would you have lost focus if not for the grounding hand grasping yours, helping steady your hold on the bow’s grip and ensuring a precisely crafted arrow balances upon the nocking point, aimed directly at the fluffy creature.

Today, Jeongin is teaching you how to wield his bow. 

He’s also dangerously close to you, strands of inky hair tickling your cheek when he leans to murmur pointers in your ear, shifting so the toned bit of his chest presses to your back.

A skillful foot adjusts your own foot’s position, offering a small click of his tongue in assurance towards the clench of your teeth, straining to hold such a massive bow in waiting.

“Now.”

The words are a facet of relief, drawn elbow allowed rest, opposing eye closed for better focus opening to catch sight of your kill.

After weeks of practicing, it seems the rain brought in a meager portion of luck.

Thank you, Artemis, comes your internal thanks, scampering down after Jeongin towards the puncturing arrow, peering over his shoulder as he utters the ordinated eucharistia and gathers the animal to bring back.

And yet, halfway there, he pauses, peering over his shoulder back at you.

You’d like to think a ghost of a smile resided in his eyes, and the slight crinkle in the corners seems to further prove the assumption.

“You did well.”

Ah.

Like those moments by the fire, the quiet times he’ll be there when you awaken from your nap only to find him right there, staring down upon your form with what you’d scorn to call affection.

Getting your hand caught in the brambles, when his gentle thumb wipes away beading tears, smoothing to cup your cheek, shushing the slight sniffles too gently for your heart to bear.

And now, those prolonged irises, fixated upon you as if uttering a prayer. 

Hm.

You want to kiss him.

Momentary, as risky as his earlier closeness back when hunting do you peek down, surveying the near perfect skin of his lips.

A russet brown upper lip seated atop the lighter pink of a dashing bottom lip, glossy from his tongue having rushed across seconds prior.

Quietly, you scold your struggle to swallow.

All the same, it appears you underestimated his aptitude for observation, falling into the learned pattern of rinse and repeat, ignore and move on, while trekking back to the forest’s center.

That, and the same manner his gaze flits to your lips too.

The first time you find yourself imprinting on him is during a regular conversation of yours, sharing strawberries, sparing words here and there between mouthfuls.

Expectantly, a joke comes spouting from your lips, one you watch with pride that earns the upward quirk of his lips in silent amusement, lightly smacking a hand across his leg as if laughing. 

Well, what you do when you laugh, and it takes you a moment before you begin giggling(this time audible) yourself, unable to keep the bubbling sound from pouring out. 

He’s adorable, in almost every way. Exhibiting your habits, mimicking your expressions like a curious babe. 

The expectant manner he studies your expression, as if debating on whether or not that was the right reaction, or the way the slight plush of his cheeks causes his eyes to disappear while still learning to smile, searching your own smile as a blueprint.

He teaches you, you teach him.

Nevertheless, the hunting incident was never spoken of nor added to conversation. His eyes on your lips, yours on his, left forgotten.

A matter you were thankful for, no matter the temporary fix.

Something left unspoken, for as long as the silence would last. 

. 

. 

.

Then again, veracity would poke itself from ignorance in due time, so you savored the quiet even more, kept your eyes clearly glued to his face and his face only.

Not his lips.

Certainly not.

Taken up activities to pull your mind from the temptation, the urge. Hunted more, learned simple skills in healing, tactics in fighting. Day after day, growing stronger, more well-versed with your surroundings, abilities.

Some days called for peaceful tasks, like finding the correct berries or leaves for herbal salves, detecting those of foul intent and the best way to dispose of them. 

Others sweat-inducing, leaving you to heave for your breath and clamber back to your feet.

If Chris could teach and Hermes could bow to your fighting prowess, Jeongin could battle. Effortless in the manner his footsteps pound on grassy terrain, wielding a dagger as if a maestro—leading an orchestra to a haunting finale down to the depths of the Underworld.

And for once, you hate ever being cocky, inviting him to “try his hardest” despite remaining blindsided to the utter depths of Tartarus you feel your head being dipped into with each practiced swipe of his hand, sharpened dagger narrowly avoided for an eight time.

Trembling legs force yourself stable, the quiver of your thighs betraying the cruel, human need for rest, recuperation.

But no, determination beckons another outcome, lights a fire in your veins. Knowing of the sensible outcome being his victory, unwilling to back down.

Perhaps it was that fire, that anger and frustration when you glared at him from across the clearing that kindled his own bonfire, one crackling, with blue flames licking a smoky sky where a usually monotone expression seems to glow.

The potential of a god.

“Cut me,” He’d said an hour or so ago, towards the beginning of your sparring. Logically, you laughed off the offer regardless of his seriousness—for gods were immune to the inflicted agonies.

Right about now though, the offer is tempting. That, and the irritation with both yourself and him continues to take life, rooting itself into your chest like the enormous cypress in the forest’s center.

In a flash of will-power, your legs are rushing forward, each thump of your heartbeat divisible within your eardrums, battering against your ribcage as the Minotaur to his Knossos labyrinth.

The weapon of choice in hand, your own dagger, comes rushing outwards, knuckles a ghastly white with the tightness of your grip.

I move left, he’ll swerve below then back. Or right? Or—

The pivot of his left heel, and you know this movement, body reacting without thinking to counteract.

Slice!

“What..” Both heaving for air that seems too slow in entering your lungs, feeble words manage from your lips.

“What color does a god bleed, Jeongin?”

And looking up, you aren’t met with an Olympian’s wrath nor cry for vengeance, but a grin, toothy and amused. His grin of satisfaction, and you feel your breath catch in your throat, chest aching from the cough elicited in return.

Red. Red rivulets spill from the thin slice across his cheekbone, curving down the sculpted expanse of his neck and disappearing to stain his clothing.

His true smile, proud and satiated.

“Same color as you, we just don’t run out.”

Snide remark met with a short snort of yours, you find the camera of your mind shuttering, capturing this moment as one of a kind, a new side to the man you thought you knew all angles of.

Though it seems he is more than three-dimensional. Today proves that.

His thumb reaches to swipe at the stinging infliction, quieting your apology with a sidelong glance and noiselessly kneeling down in front of you, back facing the confused tip of your head.

“Get on.” Jeongin grunts, and you would have laughed if not for the worsening ache in your legs, the way your body feels of lead after much exertion, prompting no trace of protest where you flop atop his spine.

Silence, a common occurrence when with Jeongin. Never uncomfortable, especially not as you press your nose into his shoulder, inhaling that signature, earthy scent of petrichor, savor the warmth his body always seems to emit, the gentleness of his hands in supporting your thighs around his waist. 

Not to mention the intermittent squeeze of his grasp upon your skin, as if to assure you of your approaching distance back “home”, or, what you now call your second home.

Like a sleeping spell enacted by the sweetest of voices, you’re asleep instantly, your last glimpse of life coming in the form of soft furs enveloping your body; kind, calloused hands cradling your cheeks for a moment longer before allowing solitude.

By the time your lashes dust remnants of slumber from view, the majority of your ailments: cut knees, arms, have been tended to, the nap providing ample recovery time.

And in front of you, a pile of plucked day-flowers and Jeongin’s hunched form, braiding the stems.

“Mmh..” The sleepy hum pulls his brow-knitted-concentration awry, and you’d like to cry watching the sharp narrow of his eyes soften simultaneously, arm extending to run a delicate palm over your forehead, brushing stray bits of hair from your eyes.

“I’m making bracelets,” An invitation in the lilt to his tone, the division of his pile towards you.

“Would you like to make some as well?”

Ah. He’s too much and never enough all at the same time.

Taking to braiding the twines as well speaks on your behalf, the afternoon’s quietness interrupted by a shrilling warbler and the wisp of wind rustling branches, swirling leaves into miniature tornadoes.

“Hm…” A bit of your humming breaks up the stillness, careful to avoid delicate petals amid the process. “My friends and I used to make these for our crushes, or just between friends, yeah?”

Across from you, Jeongin sits, his legs crossed, lips puffed in thought whilst slender fingers intertwine the three bits of vine together.

“..Crushes?”

The paling of his features upon peeking up at you indicate he certainly had no clue about the figurative meaning of “crushes”, and you have to pretend to cough to keep from snorting with giggles.

Day-flower bracelets and talk of crushes after nearly battling to the death, apparently.

“Like, um, people you like. Lots of people call them their crush,” Patient, no less, where the boy nods, his clumsy fingers growing acclimated to weaving the flowers along string, the delight evident in his expression after completing a bracelet a sight worth remembering.

What you hadn’t anticipated was being handed the bracelet once he finished it, speaking so matter-a-fact despite the words leaving parted lips.

“For my crush.”

Now it’s your turn to pale, white as a sheet.

Huh?

Then it hits you, slow to ease the finished bracelet over your wrist.

“Ah, I meant “like” as in, uh,” A pause, wracking your mind for a decent definition. “Are interested in, romantically.”

That usually indifferent gaze of his transforms into eyes wide as saucers, the nervous tightness of lips and redness of his ears making you want to squeal.

Cute.

It’s scary how often you think that about him, every little thing swoon-worthy.

“I apologize.”

No, no.   

“No! I didn’t- you didn’t understand, Jeongin. ‘S okay, seriously.” Exhaling wearily, one hand lifts, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze of reassurance. “Thank you. I love the bracelet.”

“Good.” A small sigh you’d assume of relief slips from his lips, chortling to himself before returning an identical squeeze of your hand, falling into a shared cloak of silence.

Not awkward, however. Just quiet. Giving you time to lift your intertwined fingers and marvel at the fact you feel you’ve known him forever, not mere months. 

The plentiful veins stretched across the pale back of his hand, so alternative to the sunlight seeming to blaze past the canopy’s leaves, able to sear your skin tan in a matter of days.  

From a passerby’s point of view, perhaps he would appear normal, if only slightly.

You know better.

Unconsciously, your thumb smooths over the bumpy veins, behaving as if able to feel the rush of immortal blood through blue, green, and purple channels connecting to a perpetually beating heart.

“Same color as you, we just don’t run out.”

So why wait, when he’ll have eternity and you’ll have a lifetime?

“I think you’re becoming my crush.”

And other times, the truth would be announced before it could announce itself.

“I’m sorry if that’s confusing.”

His failure to flinch away calms your nerves, for now. Weakened courage, nonetheless, keeps your eyes averted.

“Similar to your hair,” A pause, your gaze flickering up to his as if to translate the expression prior to his reiteration, prior to the agreeing nod and two fingers fidgeting with a tress of your hair, just like the first time you met him in these woods.

“Similar to your hair, I like that too.”

And he goes back to bracelet-making, as if speaking about the weather and not returning feelings you once believed were one-sided.

So this is love.

Is it the truth that every tale of love leads to tragedy? 

Orpheus’ madness leading to abandonment of his beloved Eurydice back into the Underworld, his true love never to be seen again but instead remembered in his laments, his lyre? 

Or is it just a coincidence that the center of the forest is empty this time? That his quiver of arrows has gone amiss?

Hunting, maybe.

Then again, he’s always been first to detect you—the sweep of a bird or a rush of air indicating his impending arrival.

Today, stillness of the wind sends goosebumps littering up your arms, cupping your hands over your mouth to shout his name.

And no one replies.

Not a soul.

Jeongin may have grown more sly, more confident while in your company, but no such joke like this would be played, that you knew.

Which is why, in a panic, your feet thunder towards the closest confidant of yours other than the Forest Prince and a soon-to-be Messenger god, storming past nagging thorn patches pricking your wrists and off towards the tides.

“Chris!”

A sharp shout, the unevenness of your tone apparently evident, for Chris looks rather disgruntled, concerned where he pokes his head from the waters at the end of the dock.

An overreaction, possibly. However, an absence after nearly seven months of routine attendance can’t help but twist your gut the wrong way.

“Yes? Hello? What’s wrong, sweetheart? You hurt? Innie hurt?”

‘Innie’, his nickname for Jeongin that, in your normal state would have gathered a laugh.

This time excluded.

Quick hands fumble to gesture your discontentment, scrambling to unearth comprehensible sentences.

”I don’t- I don’t know where he is and- what if he’s hurt? Or maybe he’s in trouble with Artemis? Could I have gotten him in trouble? What if I never see him agai—“

“Y/N.”

Salvation in his grounding hands, human legs having sprouted without your acknowledgement to join you on the dock. Meanwhile, your frenzied disposition establishes ignorance to the water droplets clinging to his fingertips, mending the thorny cuts while trying to level the pound of your chest.

“Breathe with me, okay?”

Focusing your eyes on his lips isn’t something you haven’t done before, but this time it’s different. He’s steadying, a low tide receding the worries from your brain as you follow his breaths.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Another.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“First off, the most likely cause behind his disappearance would be his mother, we both know that, hm? If that’s the case, I have no doubt in a day or two he’ll be back. You know how I have my duties with m’ dad, yeah?”

Though, he’s faster than you in catching the telltale signs of your recurring worries, clicking his tongue as if scolding a student of his in his swim-class.

“And when Jisung stops by tomorrow, I’ll ask him to bother his dad about it, okay? Leave it to Hermes to hear every conversation in Olympus.”

His face lights up seeing your meager smile, index brushing your lashes of their bubbling tears.

“There’s that pretty smile.” A soft coo, and you playfully swat at his hands, the second-long eye-contact a wordless “thank you” he assures back with a wink, pulling you into a tight hug before separating.

“And don’t go worrying, alright? He’ll be back for the forest, sure, but he wouldn’t leave your side too, and I think we both know that.”

An affectionate pat to your cheek and he vanishes like an apparition, the splash of water a ways away his only source of detection and your last chance to scold his insinuations.

But, for all you know, he could be right.

Jeongin wouldn’t leave your side, and a part of you knew that from the start.

Nonetheless, while Chris badgered Jisung into asking his dad about Jeongin, you spent your days—four, exactly, since Jeongin had disappeared—scouring the forest.

No trace, and Chris was still waiting for updates come Jisung’s next return.

Pick some berries, hunt a bit, your mind hounded, futilely attempting to quell the emptiness, the lack of excitement without him by your side.

A dependence you used to dread ever having when it came to someone, now like second instinct, something craved when deprived of.

A week later, you’re first to the beach, the flutter of winged sandals barely drifting to a stop before you’re pouncing and leaving the poor boy choking on his words, letters of his satchel scattering about.

“Any-“ A choke on your own breath, eyes wide, grasping onto a waning hope like a person crazed.  “Any news?”

“Yeah, lovebird, if you gave me time to land.”

Jisung is not amused, though he does give a tiny smirk intelligently kept silent, cautiously evading your wrath.

“The boyfriend of yours should be back by tomorrow. His mom’s—“

A clear of his throat, nervously glancing at the sky as if awaiting Zeus’ lightning bolt to strike him. 

“Miss Artemis wants him to learn his hunting in Olympus, the kid said how he likes the forest better, blah blah, real cute. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

Feigning sarcasm, you take your turn in surprising him for a second time with a hug, one Jisung begrudgingly mirrors after a grumbled insult.

“You uh.. You gonna invite me to the wedding or what?”

A smack against his shoulder brings back much-needed familiarity. 

That, and the fleeting hope the face you’ve fallen for will come into view by tomorrow, that this nightmare you’ll awaken from.

.

.

.

The most anticipation you’ve ever felt for the next day usually came in the form of Christmas morning, once awaiting the presents, now awaiting a different sort of Holiday.

Him.

Hurried footsteps linger by the forest edge, hoping beryl irises may glimpse past the bushes, crinkle into a smile, his smile for you.

Foolish, it must seem. Treating his arrival like a set time, expecting his presence at the very crack of dawn.

But you’ll wait. Wait and wait.

What’s a day to the five you waited through?

Although, pacing and searching becomes a bit dull after four hours, and as the evening sun begins to fall, you feel a sense of dread like never before.

Hermes hears gossip, yes, but does that mean it’s always correct?

Damn it all.

“Jeongin!”

An angry shout to no one, nothing. A shout to the warblers once peeking down at the two of you, now soaring off in alarm.

“You jerk!”

A long time, truthfully.

.

“A what?”

Whipping around so fast you fear injury, you fear you might be hallucinating catch onto where he stands a few feet away, doused in the shadows of the looming cypress signature to the forest.

Real, breathing.

And.. who you just called a jerk.

Well, announced as a jerk to the whole forest.

So many questions, thoughts.

Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? Is there a forewarning when it comes to seeing your godly parents?

Most of all though, slipping through the fissures of confusion and awe, happiness lies.

Bright and brilliant and ah, you want to scream.

Who knew love was so exasperating, painful just seeing his face.

Relief, in its utmost form.

Running to him, it’d be downright embarrassing if not for the smile on your face, making your cheeks ache with its ceaselessness where your arms wrap around his in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I love you,” Is all that’s mumbled upon pulling back, and perhaps you ran upon the same wavelength in those few seconds, with his head tipping in perfect alignment with yours to welcome a slow, savoring kiss you want to spend forever in.

And, unfortunately separating, it appears your sensibility also returned, clearing your throat and synonymously scorning the heat of your cheeks, avoiding his fond gaze observing your face—painting it in his mind.

Tender thumbs smooth over your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours and dragging your attention back once more from previous fluster.

“I wouldn’t leave you, you know that. I wish I could’ve left a note but,” A chaste halt, chewing at his bottom lip. “I’m still memorizing the letters you taught me.”

Pausing again, he gathers his words.

“And I don’t know why you apologized,” He chuckled to himself, pressing too-short of a kiss to your lips and gathering you close by the loop of your day-flower bracelet, matching the one on his own wrist.

“Because I love you too, and this,” A tug at the bracelet, firm vines keeping from flimsiness. “This keeps us together.”

Another peck, and you fight the urge to giggle at his silliness, noses bumping.

“So whenever you feel alone,” A single tug at your wrist, at the dayflowers. “Just know I’m right beside you. Always.”

“He’ll be back for the forest, sure, but he wouldn’t leave your side too, and I think we both know that.”

In the end, Chris was right.

He wouldn’t leave your side, and that was a promise.

Summer, and blackberries laid out on a picnic blanket consist of your afternoon snack. That, and your curiosity over his obedience to Artemis’ chastity guidelines regarding your relationship—interested in whether he wished to follow in his mother’s footsteps.

“I will honor her oaths, but I am not obligated to follow them, hm?”

A sly lilt to his reply, perhaps in his words, maybe in the momentary shift of his attention from the bitten blackberry to you.

“And right now,” 

The confidence in his words, the emotion, so opposed to the blank, indifferent precursor of his speech, courtesy of your influence.

Even more so when he leans forward, the soft exhale of satisfaction through his nose something you’d swoon having heard if not for his lips on yours, failing to finish his sentence for a moment.

Soft, unhurried where he drifts down, top teeth gently nibbling at the skin before ushering the plump of your bottom lip in his own lips.

“I want to kiss you. And I don’t think any force of Olympus could keep me from it.”

A summer afternoon, and Jeongin tastes like blackberries.

sunboki, may 2022 ©