#he is gentle and peaceful and a good boy and knows good music

[jonathanbyersphd]

Modern AU Argyle blasting Getaway Car by Taylor Swift the entire drive to Hawkins

[honeychamomile1]

Boards And Strings

JJ Maybank x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader takes peace with JJ while she tunes her strings and he cleans his board.

Warnings: Just fluff because I’m obsessed with it.

Note: This is my first story ever with JJ on this blog because I made a second one so this is blog is fresh as a daisy. Hope you like it though! (Also I didn’t watch the show so any mistakes I make I deeply apologize but I rarely mention plot points)

First blog: @marypaol (I write for Harry Potter!)

The instrument was in her hands, gentle and delicate for her mind as she twisted the tuners on the top, once in a while plucking the strings, the note ringing out into the air.

Her opinion of it would vary, for sometimes she took satisfaction to it or she would simply shake her head, tightening or loosening based on her desires. The string would be looser or tighter in accordance with her actions. The ukulele would listen to her every word, even the most delicate change would completely alter the perspective of the note in the air, picking it up in the wind and almost forcing everyone to hear what it had to say.

She always liked music, listening or making, it didn’t matter, for whichever one was the same to her. Music was music, and notes were notes.

The dirty blonde in front of the garage didn’t take a mind to the noise, for normally it annoy an every-day person, a note ringing out before a pause is heard, not long enough until another note sprang out. He always heard her playing, and it pretty much the opposite of annoyed him. It in fact made him calm, a sense in his chest growing every time he heard her fingers touch those strings. He loved it when she played, and simply hearing the process of the instrument sounding good was something he was more than content to watch unfold.

His hands though burned, scraping the wax off the surface with great effort. The huge board was propped up on two wooden chairs he found in the garage, him sitting in his own as he leaned over it, his back starting to form a tension that wasn’t very comfortable. The hat on his head was protecting his forehead form the morning sun, yet after a while he could feel the heat seeping into the fabric and onto his hair, and he just knew he might get sunburn on his head beneath his strands if he took it off, so he dealt with the rays.

“JJ?” He heard a gentle voice, and, looking up from crumbled up wax on his board, got to see a much better view. The girl sat on a chair, bare tanned legs curled up and leaning on the table in front of her. She wore light ripped jean shorts, a nice sun shirt covering her figure. On her toned arms she wore knitted bracelets, ones she’s made herself. She had her eyebrows knitted together, confusion pouring over her features. Her nose in fact displayed the so said confusion, twitching every couple seconds so much so that it made the Maybank boy stare for a couple seconds longer than he should have.

“Yes, Princess?” He said, using the nickname he always used around her. Her lips quirked at the corners, him loving the sight before she used her fingers to pluck a string.

“Does this sound off?” She asked, uncertainly curling around her features. He listened to her play it again. He shook his head eventually, knowing how her songs sounded and the note was right as ever, his ears knowing that sound better than any other.

“Not at all, sweetness. Sounds as perfect as always.” He assured, looking down at the wax again, picking up his tool and continuing to scrape at the substance.

He didn’t hear her get up, and it wasn’t until he felt the fabric on his head being lifted up, his locks that were held together now flowing freely once they’re wasn’t any blockage that he noticed she had came over to him. His blonde strands practically glowed in the sun’s rays, and he could already feel the heat burning his head. He looked up at the disturbance, but quickly decided it wasn’t a disturbance anymore, since it was her standing over him, her hand holding his hat and transferring it to her own locks, setting it in her head swiftly.

Her eyes locked with his over the cap, the fabric on it lightly tearing from its constant use.

“What do you think you’re doing?” JJ teased gently, lips quirking up lightly.

She grinned right back at him, adjusting the cap on her head, the strings from her bracelets wagging from the movement. “What does it look like? I’m stealing your hat.”

JJ clicked his tongue and shook his head softly, mouth still slightly open as he looked at her. He then put on a fake man voice, acting like he had higher authority than her. “Well, sorry, Ma’am, but stealing is illegal.”

She grinned at his joke, instantly deciding to play along. “Really? Well I apologize, sir.”

She fluttered her eyelashes teasingly, trying to win the so-called cop over. JJ smirked.

“Beauty isn’t gonna free you, honey.” He informed, and saw her bottom lip come out, pink mouth pouting.

“Does this mean I’m arrested?” She tested, eyebrow raising in question. JJ grinned, standing up, coming closer to her.

“It means that you are going to get punished.” He answered. Her pout deepened but he saw her eyes glistening with curiosity, wondering what his next move was.

“And what exactly is my punishment?” She said, eyes more leaving his.

JJ had a smirk on his face, coming closer to her than before. It clicks in her brain at that moment, widening her eyes. She backs away slightly. “J…”

He laughs, tackling her body and digging his fingers into her sides, a squeal coming out of her mouth. She giggles as he tickles her, both their bodies slamming into the grassy ground, him on top, limbs everywhere as her lungs burned form not being able to breath without laughing. The cap loosed on her hair, the front of it covering part of her forehead.

“JJ!” She managed to exclaim, hands on his wrists as an attempt to stop his fingers from tickling her skin. She was able to get her fingers close to his, trying to pry them off when she felt the waxy substance coating his skin.

“JJ, ew your hands are gross.” She laughed, now managing to take his hands off her, and he was smirking the whole time he was wiping his hands off on the grass.

He then leaned forward, making eye contact with her, hair sprawled out on the grass and skin tanned. He reached for for the hat on her head, and for a couple seconds she thought he was gonna take it back, but instead he fixed it, gently lifting her head with his hand on the back of her neck, making sure the cap can fit better.

She smiled at him, him at her as their noses touched, brushing skin against skin as she breathed in his scent.

“I don’t think the police should be handling me like this…” she murmured and wrapping her fingers around the collar of is worn out T-shirt, smiling wider as his mouth brushed hers, being able to feel the muscles in his lips.

“I don’t think so either.” JJ whispered, breath hitting her mouth before connecting their lips, intaking a soft breath.

Her hands went to his neck, keeping him close as their mouths moved together. He tasted like fruits and beer, along with something that wouldn’t be any one else except him. He thought she tasted like honey chamomile and something else sweet.

They slowly separated for air, breathing slightly hard against each other’s mouths. JJ breathed out, digging his face into her neck, pressing his lips to the skin there, making her light out a soft sighs at the action.

“JJ…” she whispered as a form of protest but didn’t make an effort to take his head away, instead holding it there with her hands, stroking the hair strands that seemed to be getting blonder by the day.

He hummed in response, waiting to see what she had to say. She didn’t answer right away, though, sighing more frequently as he continued to kiss wherever he could get to.

“W-we shouldn’t do this right here.” She managed out, his teeth brushing the skin before backing away, gorgeous eyes meeting hers.

“Why not, Princess?” He questioned, practically whining because he had to stop. She laughed a little before replying.

“Because someone could see us.”

JJ scoffed, pecking her lips a couple times before going back to her neck, hand going under her shirt to rub her stomach. She sighed into the feeling, almost overwhelmed by his scent and body heat.

“Let them watch, they deserve to know that you’re mine.”

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy! 🫶🏻

[cupids-diner]

hey! so I'm kind of obsessed with your writing ☠️ it's all soooo good, i was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is a ballerina? (I'm also obsessed with your moodboard because I did ballet when I was a kid 😭) with Damian Wayne plsss, because I just LOVED how you write him nd I thought it would be cute.

Beneath the ballet’s shadow - Damian Wayne

A/n: I love getting requests for Damian and generally any of my favorite characters from shows/movies. Especially when I get to write for specific types of readers (ex: ballerina!reader) because I like looking up stuff to include in the story! I’ve also noticed how my formatting of my stories change with the stories, like there is some consistency but not a lot, Y’know?

Warnings: none

Rating: fluff

Damian Wayne wasn’t one for distractions. His life had been built on discipline, precision, and a resolve far beyond his years. Yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he found himself regularly at Gotham City Ballet, watching you.

It had started innocently enough. He had accompanied you once, claiming he needed to ensure your safety as you walked through the dark streets of Gotham. But after that first time, something kept pulling him back. Maybe it was the grace in your movements, the way you seemed to defy gravity with every leap and pirouette, or perhaps it was the quiet contentment he felt in your presence, a rare feeling for someone like him.

You’d catch him sometimes, leaning against the doorframe of the practice room, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “You know, you don’t have to keep coming,” you’d tease, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“I’m simply ensuring you’re not slacking in your training,” he’d reply, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. But in truth, he admired your dedication, your focus—traits he valued in himself.

One day, after practice, you sat beside him on the worn wooden bench outside the studio. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city, softening the harsh lines of the buildings. Damian was unusually quiet, even for him, staring out at the horizon as if deep in thought.

“You know,” you started, breaking the silence, “I appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

He glanced at you, his sharp green eyes softening just a fraction. “It’s nothing,” he replied, but the words felt heavier than usual.

“No, it’s not nothing,” you insisted, a gentle smile on your lips. “You’re always here, watching. It’s like you care or something.”

Damian felt his heart skip—a rare, unfamiliar sensation. But he maintained his stoic demeanor, merely raising an eyebrow. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, but you could see the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck.

You laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Okay, okay, tough guy. But seriously, I’m glad we’re friends.”

Friends. The word hung in the air between you. Damian had never had many of those, never allowed himself the luxury. Yet, with you, it felt different. There was no pressure, no expectations. Just… peace. He didn’t need to say anything more; you seemed to understand him without words.

As you leaned back on the bench, your shoulder brushing against his, Damian felt an odd warmth settle in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it meant, or why it felt so significant. But for now, he let it be, content to simply sit beside you, watching the sun dip below the skyline, the weight of the world momentarily lifting from his shoulders.

In that moment, he didn’t need to be the son of Batman, the heir to the League of Assassins. He was just Damian, a boy quietly, contentedly falling for his best friend. And that, he decided, was enough.

A/n: does anyone know where I can watch more Batman/batfam movies/slash shows? I have Netflix, Hulu, and Disney plus and like miscellaneous apps to watch movies on but they’re almost always unavailable on those platforms. I plan on creating like a schedule for when I post because I go back to school soon, I was supposed to go back yesterday but my mom forgot to register me so.

[thewidowsledger]

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 2: Debt

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: The once secret, a forbidden love hidden from the world. Those stolen moments together had been thrilling, but ultimately, drove the person you trully love away from you. But when she left, she didn't just leave you; she also left you a part of herself that would constantly remind you of her for the rest of your life. This fragment of her essence became an indelible mark on your soul, shaping the course of your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Tags | Warnings: this is going to be a ride, ANGST, little fluff, custody battle, Natasha being a bitch (?) forced marriage

Author's Note: I know I promised a Wanda fic but I need to post this first…

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

3 years later…

Late one evening, Natasha found herself wandering the aisles of a quiet, upscale grocery store. Gone were the power suits and sky-high heels; tonight, she was clad in a simple hoodie and jeans, her hair hidden beneath a baseball cap.

She had booked a small, cozy airbnb for a week, craving solitude and anonymity during her brief vacation. As a wealthy businesswoman, she could afford any luxury, but tonight, she sought the comfort of anonymity. The store's peaceful atmosphere and lack of familiar faces provided the perfect refuge from her hectic life.

Unfortunately for Natasha, her younger sister, Yelena, possessed an uncanny talent for tracking her down. Two days into her secret vacation, Yelena appeared just outside the door of her small airbnb.

Natasha's journey to becoming a successful businesswoman began unexpectedly. As the lead guitarist of the college band, her passion for music was unwavering. However, fate intervened when her father, the CEO of a multinational corporation, suddenly passed away, leaving her in charge of the family business.

And of course, her dreams about music were all forgotten as she threw herself into learning the intricacies of the business world—her only way to cope after you.

“Hey, Nat! I’ll go get some toiletries.”

“Okay, I’ll get my yogurt.”

Natasha strode towards the dairy section, her eyes scanning the shelves for her favorite indulgence. She loved yogurt, but there was only one brand that truly satisfied her discerning palate. To her dismay, the shelf was bare, but there was still one remaining tub of the creamy, tangy delight.

Just as Natasha's fingers closed around the last tub of her favorite yogurt, a sudden, lightning-fast movement from behind startled her. Before she could react, a small, eager hand darted out and snatched the yogurt away, leaving her empty-handed.

When Natasha knelt down to the culprit's eye level, the small girl took a step back, suddenly looking uncertain. The yogurt was still clutched tightly in her small hands. The little girl tilted her head to the side, her innocent, wide-eyed gaze fixed on Natasha. Her long lashes cast shadows on her rosy cheeks as she blinked curiously, taking in the woman kneeling before her.

Without warning, the little girl eagerly toddled forward and threw her arms around Natasha's neck, burying her face in the crook of her arm. Caught off guard, Natasha hesitantly returned the hug.

“Mama,” the small girl whined.

“Oh sh—gosh, I'm so sorry about her! She's just a little rascal when she's excited!” A teen boy hastily approached, tugging gently on the girl’s arm. “Come on, Liah, leave the nice lady alone.”

The young girl hesitantly allowed herself to be pulled away from who she thought was her mama by the boy. She looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly.

“Sorry, miss,” the teen mumbled, keeping a firm but gentle grip on the little girl’s hand.

The teen paused, his brow furrowing as he stared at Natasha. “Wow, this is a bit awkward. You look exactly like...Liah.” He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Liah?” Natasha echoed, taken aback. She glanced at the little girl, who was now timidly clutching the boy’s hand. “Is that her name?” The boy nodded, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Yeah, Aliah, can you introduce and apologize to the lady right here?” The teen encouraged gently. The girl eagerly complied, turning to Natasha with innocent eager eyes.

“Awiah, mama, I Awiah mama…” she introduced herself, holding out the tub of yogurt, Natasha bit her inner lip, her heart aching as she looked at the little girl who is calling her mama.

“Hi I���”

“Liah, she’s not mama okay? Mommy is waiting for us outside.” The teen interjected quickly, giving Natasha an apologetic look and not letting her introduce herself. “I am really sorry miss, we’re gonna go now.”

Just as the two left, Yelena appeared at her side. She glanced down at her sister’s lost reaction. Suddenly, a curious expression crossed her features.

“That kid looks a lot like you.” She casually said as she hugged the rolls of toilet papers.

“You saw?” Natasha asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole thing, I mean.” Yelena nodded, her brow furrowing with concern. “Yeah, Nat. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, let's checkout now,” Natasha dismissed and started walking to the cashier.

“Hey! Did you get your yogurt?” Yelena asked as she walked behind her sister.

“The kid got it, but it’s fine,” the redhead said quietly, trying to brush off the situation and avoid discussing it further.

⧗

“Hey, did you two get my tub?” you called out. To your surprise, both Billy and your daughter took off running towards you.

“Yes!” the boy shouted back, and your daughter lifted the tub of yogurt triumphantly as they neared your car. “We got it!”

You grinned widely, feeling relieved and appreciative. As the two reached you, you scooped Aliah into your arms, her tiny body warming against your chest. She eagerly showed you the yogurt, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You got it! Thank you so much, sweetie,” You cooed, giving her a gentle squeeze before addressing the teen. “And thank you too. I really appreciate it. Let’s go home?” You set Aliah down gently, and she clung to your leg, peeking out shyly at the boy.

You load the groceries into the backseat of the car, then secure Liah in her booster seat. While Billy sat beside her. Once everything is settled, you slide into the driver's seat and turn the ignition, starting the car and beginning your journey home.

“You guys took long,” you commented as you drove.

“Oh yeah, we stumbled into this lady who looked exactly like Liah,” Billy giggled, glancing back at the car seat where Aliah sat. Your daughter was looking through the windows as if she was deep in thought.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and Liah actually called her mama,” Billy continued, laughing heartily. “It’s so funny. The lady looked really surprised, though.” You felt a surge of curiosity, your grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

“Oh, that's...interesting,” you said awkwardly as you continued to drive with a feeling of unease.

Three years, three years had passed when you called the engagement off with Steve, not being able to bear the things you did behind his back throughout your relationship. Besides, he immediately picked up on your daughter’s features that she wasn’t his, he’s a celibate for fuck’s sake.

But he made sure you pay for everything you have done. He used his connections and influence to make sure you were passed over for the coveted law school you had poured your heart into getting into. He ensured your applications for every job you're going to get into were rejected. But his wrath didn't stop at your plans and dreams after you graduated. Steve came up to your mother, laying bare the truth of your infidelity and the circumstances surrounding your daughter's birth. And he made sure that your own mother would turn her back on you, disown you and cut off all contact with you—and she did.

In the last three years since everything happened, you had poured all your love and energy into raising your daughter, Liah. She’s three now, she is a vibrant ray of sunshine in your life. Her infectious laughter and innocent hugs helped soothe the ache of lost dreams and shattered relationships.

So you made sure to shower her with love, provide a secure and nurturing home. You are determined to ensure that she never feels the absence that plagues you, that your love is enough. You would go to great lengths to fill the void, never wanting her to suffer any absences in her life.

You had to start over because your reputation had already been irreparably damaged. You never blamed Steve for what he did, even though he had gone out of his way to deliberately ruin your life, you can't help but solely blame yourself for the situation. The guilt and self-reproach weigh heavily on you, blaming only yourself for the consequences of your own choices and actions.

Only if you weren’t a coward.

In a bid to start anew, you made a bold decision to move states, trading the life you knew for a fresh start. From being a once-admired student, you started as a cashier in a small grocery store, earning just enough to provide for your daughter. It’s a stark contrast to your former life, but your daughter’s well-being is your top priority, making your humble job a small sacrifice for her happiness and future.

Over time, through your hard work and perseverance, you have regained your footing, making commissions as an advertising sales agent. What you do right now is far from what you graduated but it no longer matters to you, each day, you strive to climb to the top, motivated by the desire to give your daughter a life you couldn't give yourself, not only planning to make it to law school again but making a new name for yourself to erase the mistakes of your past.

Make it to those people you owe. And there is one particular person you owe the most.

“Y/N, I can walk from my house since it's on the way.” You blinked rapidly, you shook your head to clear your thoughts and pulled over to the side of the road.

“Are you sure? I can drive you door-to-door Billy, I don't want you momma worrying.”

“Don't worry, I got it from here plus princess here looks really tired.” He poked the cheek of your daughter who is still looking at the window of the car, deep in thoughts like you awhile ago.

“Well, okay then. Same time tomorrow?” You asked, your eyes never leaving your daughter's as you look at her through the rearview mirror.

Billy grinned, “Of course, Y/N. You know I love spending time with your little munchkin. Where are you off to anyway?” He zipped up his coat, preparing to exit the car.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Work's been piling on more responsibilities lately. It's requiring me more time at work.” You gave him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Billy. You're a lifesaver.”

You reached into your purse and pulled out an envelope containing the babysitting fee. “Here you go,” you said, handing it to him. “She needs to be picked up 3 hours early since their teacher said it's a shortened period for their class. So…it's not the same time for tomorrow.”

He noticed the worn edges of your wallet peeking out from your purse and the slight hesitation in your voice when you mentioned the time. “You know, Y/N, it's okay if you can't pay me this time, consider it a favor, no payment needed.” You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by the kid’s gesture.

“Billy, no, I can't ask you to do that for free,” you insisted, a hint of guilt in your voice. “I was supposed to go home an hour early today, but then work piled on more tasks, and now I'm late again…and so is my commission pay.”

The kid held up a hand, stopping your apology. “Y/N, it's fine, really, I understand. And I love spending time with Liah anyways.” Billy waved goodbye, turning to walk away. You hesitated, still wanting to argue, but he purposefully ignored you, shouting over his shoulder, “No, Y/N, you need the money. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow!”

You beeped your car, leaning out the window. “Come back here, young man!” But he just grinned, turning around. He walked backwards, facing Liah in the backseat, and dramatically made finger guns at her, pulling an exaggerated face that finally made your daughter giggle.

“Liah's pick up is 1 PM instead of 4 I know, Y/N, bye!” He laughed, giving you a wave before turning the corner and disappearing from your view.

You could only sigh, watching Billy leave. He'd been Liah's trusted babysitter. He is a teen from your neighborhood. Billy was a sweet, responsible kid with a heart of gold. Despite his own financial struggles for university, he never once let it affect his care for Liah. And you have never been grateful for the kid.

⧗

Once home, you heated up some leftovers for dinner, sitting down with Liah at the tiny kitchen table. She quietly ate her chicken nuggets, still not having spoken much since from the grocery store. You were unused to her prolonged silence. “Aliah, sweetie, thank you for the tub. Mommy is happy.”

The kid just gave you a tight-lipped smile, swinging her feet as she ate.

“Did something happen, sweetie? Mommy is worried.” Liah shook her head again, still not speaking. You sighed deeply, knowing you probably shouldn't ask but your curiosity was getting the best of you.

“Liah, is it true you saw someone who looked like Mama today?” Her eyes widened and she nodded vigorously, practically bouncing in her seat.

“No! She is mama mommy!”

“Really?” you hesitated, not wanting to asked further. You shut your eyes closed, biting your inner lip, your mind drifting back to your past...you opened up your eyes looking at your little girl who looked exactly like her, a name you don't want to mention as of now not until you had any confirmation.

“What did she look like, baby?”

Liah hopped off her chair and scurried over to the mantle, grabbing a framed picture you always kept displayed. She brought it back to you, presenting the photo you always see before you go out and comeback from work.

Since her disappearance, you never hid the truth from Liah. You told her that her mama was just working really far away and would be coming home soon—you never removed her from the picture in Liah's life. You wanted your daughter to grow up believing she had a complete family. You spoke of her often, shared stories and memories, humming the same music she used to sing to you when you sleep on her arms—always presenting her as a loving mother who would return someday.

Your heart was racing, nerves fluttering in your chest as Liah pointed at the photo. It was a photo of you together, her arms wrapped around your neck. “She is mama, I saw mama,” your little girl said, from not speaking a word a while ago, now, she is joyful, pointing at the photo of her mama.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized the implications.

She saw her mother. She saw Natasha.

Liah was far too innocent to lie about something like this. She believed with all her heart that she had seen her mother, and you knew she wasn't mistaken. Natasha was out there, somewhere, and she had somehow come face to face with her daughter.

The realization sent shivers down your spine and that has led you to this very moment…

“Natasha, please, you can't take Liah away from me!” you cried out, running after her as she stormed out of the courthouse. You have been summoned to the court, delivering the devastating news that Natasha was pursuing full custody of your daughter.

Natasha didn't know Yelena did a secret investigation after she saw the kid that she told her looked exactly like her, she even forgot about it days after the encounter. But when Yelena came to her and told her what she found out, that the kid was in fact yours, it led her to uncover the truth—the kid was also hers and everything can be figured out only from that fact.

You wanted to argue, to present a denial, but the truth was plainly obvious. Liah looked exactly like Natasha, her carbon copy. If the court demanded a DNA test, it would be the end of you, you might also probably serve some time in jail.

So in your desperation, you resorted to begging, pleading with Natasha for mercy.

“N-Natasha…please!”

She walked briskly away, her face expressionless, she didn't bother to look back at you. You chased after her, your steps urgent as you pleaded, “Natasha, please, let’s work something out. Wh-what about shared custo—”

“I want full custody.” Her voice was steady, leaving no room for negotiation and immediately cutting you off. “The next hearing is in a week. Don’t bother showing up if you can't match my offer.” Her heels clicked harshly against the marble floor as she continued her inexorable march away from you. Each step she took echoed with finality. Your words seemed to bounce off her back, unheard, unimportant.

But you will do anything, you will meet the ends not to be away from your life—from your daughter.

“Please, you can't just take Liah from me. There must be another way!” Your voice cracked, desperation clawing at your insides.

“Marry me.”

“I’ll marry you!” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. The courthouse fell silent, and a few people turned to look at the two of you. A tear slid down your cheek as the magnitude of your words sank in.

Natasha looked at your tear-stained face, your pleas are already music to her ears and she took her time taking in the sight of your desperation with a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes.

“It’s settled then,” she declared, her voice carrying a new same authority she had on you. “In a week, same courthouse, not for custody battle but for our wedding.”

[katz-chow]

nsfw headcanons with the 141 + graves

warnings: nsfw 18+, gn!reader (amab & afab versions), past sexual trauma in ghost's part, bondage, edging, denial, teasing, dom & sub dynamics,

a/n: i really thought about this mostly because i don't like it when the fandom has like these takes that are i guess...expected from these men when they're literal soldiers...some are just takes that i deem unrealistic so here i'm trying to humanize them. hope y'all enjoy!

john price

6 in hard, cut, trimmed but is not really maintained as well as his beard, around med thick, a bit darker than his skin tone, curves up pretty straight i feel he's the type to like it really slow and gentle with you. like he takes his time, cigar in his mouth, and just his hand on you constantly. he loves to just relax after an action packed day, so having this as his peace of mind is something he'll really appreciate. he has the oldest, cheesiest playlist that he'll sometimes puts on whenever there'll be a day where he has a whole date planned. like this mf really thinks "rock your body" by justin timberlake something he can get down too. you make fun of him but he feels so good so it's ok. surprisingly has really good stamina for a 37 y/o dude. is very vanilla but he loves body worshipping. loves you like a divine being and to him you really are. he'll rather take you on the kitchen counter whenever you two are too impatient, maybe even on the bathroom vanity when you looks so cute after brushing your teeth that he just can't help it before he goes to work. would rather be on top of you, not really a dom & sub dynamic, just him taking over to make sure you're taken care of. a real good ol' fashion lover boy. after a long day at work and he just wants to relax, he'll just either ask you to blow him while he manspreads on the couch or he'll make you ride him on your bed. this man talks you through, never degrades you unless you ask for it. he'll prefers to baby you like the pillow princess you are...but he also expects the same when he's lazy he also loves it when you tug his hair when he goes down on you, grinding against his face or whatever. won't whine or whimper, but will pant like a dog in heat (he is) tits/chest kind of guy, loves to have his hands on your chest and squeeze them, so squishy! aftercare with him is like heaven because as soon as you two are finished, he immediately cleans you up and draws a bath for you both, or just you, to enjoy. good ol' fashion lover boy

simon "ghost" riley

6.5 in, uncut, doesn't really shave or trim, pink, warm undertones, i'd say pretty girthy, curves left so, so gentle with you. just like really soft with you, always making sure you're okay and that you're comfy the type to lay you down and just slowly press in, making sure your face is full of pleasure and not pain. because of his past experience, getting him to have sex in the first place took a long time, actually it was like year. so now that he's comfortable with you, he makes sure, for sure, that you're comfortable with him. consent is sexy. likes positions where he can sees your face, just to check up (and because he thinks you looks so angelic when you o) i feel like he wouldn't listen to any music while going at it, he doesn't want to be distracted from you. you love seeing his face too so its okay. incredibly hesitant and will not push your boundaries, also hard for him if you do end up doing something you haven't really talked about, even if it was accidental. his fav positions are anything that allows him to see your face and is easy for you to speak, that means no doggy, no pressing your face into the pillows etc etc. is not into bondage or tying you up, hates the fact that it feels like he's interrogating you and he hates the feeling of himself being tied up. always make sure you know what the safe word is, even if he's never going to push your boundaries or even go near it. once he finds a safe zone, he stays there unless you ask and he considers it (the safe word is pineapple) very vanilla and i feel like he wouldn't sub until there is a detailed talk beforehand and really, really trusts you. even then he still makes sure that you're in his view and you both know the safe word. once he does subs and lets you take full control, he's pretty vocal with you, talking to you, groaning and moaning, but he's still pretty quiet actually first time you introduced aftercare to him, he cried. he didn't know how loved he could feel while in the topic of sex, thought it was all hot and rough and not this soft. his favorite thing to do with you is to just wipe you both clean with a baby wipe from a packet you two keep in the nightstand. then he'll put on some clothes for you and him and just cuddle and kiss. he likes when you get him food afterwards when he subs someone please hug this man

kyle "gaz" garrick

7 in, cut, def trimmed, sometimes he'll even shave, darker than his skin tone, med thickness, doesn't curve but kinda rises straight up and hits his stomach, very cute he's 10000% down to do it any time whenever you two are at home. such a good balance between degradation and praise, only if you're okay with it. have you heard this man? he's a giggler, he'll giggle and tickle you and make funny jokes. one time, one of you farted (you two are still denying who it was to this day) and he couldn't stop laughing and mimicking the little toot sound i have a big feeling that he's into choking, but only you choking him. otherwise, he likes having his hand on your throat but not actually squeezing, just to keep you in place and for you to claw at speaking of your claws, he likes when you push him away and scratch at his forearms whenever he's overstimulating you. he just thinks it's so cute. definitely has a few playlists he shuffles through depending on the mood, one for a serious, hot and dirty mood and another for when you two are just chilling and being silly goofy, no kinky stuff. also into handcuffs, especially the fluffy ones. he thinks they just feel so soft and nice, a perfect balance between vanilla and kinky stuff. also because he feels like hes being pampered when he wears them attached to the headboard. lets out such cute and pretty moans no matter if he's domming or subbing. when he is subbing though, he lets out these really nice, low whines and pouts followed by a little giggle if it was silly your safeword is definitely something really funny and an inside joke that instantly ruins the mood (it's toots) he will actually ruin you if he's upset; def the type to have angry sex with you if two end up being really upset with each other. frustration sex? yes definitely. loves when you fuck him really rough, deny him, edge him, make him blabbering. he'll thank you afterwards too. if he's domming, he'll make sure you shower first and foremost, then orders take out and watch some stupid romcom. he loves romcoms (10 things i hate about you, will sing along with heath ledger) if he's subbing, depending on the intensity, he'll either just roll over after you wipe him down and immediately sleep as you pet his hair or he'll cling onto you and you two play minecraft together with him between your legs. 10/10 he's very adaptable

johnny "soap" mactavish

5.6 in, uncut, trimmed and maintained constantly, pretty pink but not much different from his skin tone, vvy girthy, leans a bit left but pretty straight this man is so damn funny. listen this mf has fell, cut himself, slipped, had a cramp, and hit his head too many times. he's so fucking clumsy but he's also so curious! but also...why does he want to have sex upside?!?! ughhhh!!! definitely a switch and definitely a power bottom...for a good 5 minutes. yes he will bite you and act like a brat whenever you dom him and mess with him, but as soon as you tie him up and edge him once, he's a goner definitely makes fun of you to see your flushed face, but also makes fun of himself. he uses his cock like a puppet and it has its own personality and voice. you laugh so hard and honestly that's better than hearing your moans. he loves your laugh makes his cock salute you before you two go down, it's so fucking funny. his "little buddy" jumping up when he calls attention and in parade rest. god it makes you laugh every time. his favorite position when he's subbing is cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. he's such an ass man, loves him some ass, will bite you like its actual cake. reverse cowgirl is reserved for when you're feeling mean though, because sometimes you just pull off of him to jerk him off and sit on his stomach. he has a nice view of your ass but can't see what you're about to do to him :( a big tease when he's domming, will have the most randomest patterns ever just to get you to whine and beg for him to go at certain pace. give him a few pouts and glossy tears and he'll do whatever you want, he's a big softie behind all the tease and bratiness. also a fan of doggy if you two are doing it quickly, he loves bending you over a surface and just going ham at it. good position for him to reach and jerk you off at the same time too. immediately cuddles as aftercare and not cleaning up right away, when he's subbing though, you def clean him up while he clings to you because he's so touchy feely but you want him to feel clean too, esp when he leaks so much (so much). when he's domming though, you two would just lay in bed (maybe even go for another round if you feel like it). gives you kisses and asks what you like and didn't like, a full debrief. plays mario kart afterwards with you and you let him win because you're tired. such a silly man

phillip graves

5.6 in, cut, not really trimmed or maintained, a pretty pink almost red tip, med girth, he curves UP like UP this man is a big tease, and super egotistical. he'll make you beg, whine, pout, and grind against him before he will even touch you. he likes cockwarning a lot while he's on a business call or doing paperwork. he's patient. makes you cum first, doesn't matter if he's domming or subbing, he wants you to use him like a toy for your own pleasure until you're satisfied enough that he'll even think about cumming. when he's domming, he loves to call you the nastiest things (if you allow him), absolutely ruins you and coats you with his cum. he's a southern gentlemen though and will make your mind go numb with pleasure, def a pleasure dom now that i'm using my noggin his fav positions are cowgirl, missionary, and doggy. lotus mostly so he can wrap his arms around you. makes you wear his cowboy hat when you ride him. and will use the hat rule in public to get you to suck him off in the car LOLOL i feel like he's big into gags, not really on you, but def on him. wants to be drooling and leaking all over himself while he whines and begs you to touch him, he's cute. likes being manhandled. grabbing his jaw, digging your nails into his back, biting him, even if he's on top, he'll enjoy it. he likes the scratch marks you give him and wears them like a trophy for his shadows to see. very vocal with you and loves to be a pillow princess when he bottoms. likes to be tied up with a vibe on his cock and edged and overstimulated will whimper and whine and moan and pout, like a little puppy. would probably grind up against your leg when he feels extra needy. aftercare with him is kinda shitty whenever he doms ngl. he'll make you something to eat and probably take you shopping afterwards. not a big cuddler but would hold you if you curl up into him. if he was subbing, he would probably take a nap after you pester him to take a shower. he'll just nap and finally wake up when he smells food that you get him for being so good lol saved by the grace of southerner charm

[yoonbroom]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER FIC RECS

a list of TXT fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 if there wasn't a summary I just included a little blurb from the fics! now onto the recs ↓

CHOI SOOBIN

IT'S YOU!! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT!!! - @koqabear

oneshot, fluff, angst, friends to lovers

Witty jokes? Didn’t really work. Pick up lines? Been there, done that. Now he probably just thinks you’re corny. These are two of many (many) methods that you used to try and get Choi Soobin, your classmate, your friend, and your husband (though he doesn’t know it yet) to notice you. Come on Soobin!!! You’re practically throwing yourself at him and yet, nothing. Is he blind, or just a robot? It’s time to find out.

FAIRY OF SHAMPOO - @02chois

series, fluff, idol au, friends to lovers, smau

soobin found his own fairy of shampoo. the one that makes him smile whenever they show up on screen, and even manages to brighten up his day whenever he's upset. but this feels a little familiar, isn't it? he hopes it won't be like the song they released. he wants to be able to face the fairy that casted a spell on him without the screen between them.

CHOI YEONJUN

JUST A LITTLE TIPSY! - @aakomii

oneshot, fluff, established relationship, idol au

Taehyun calling you to pick up your wasted boyfriend after their videoshoot with Suga!

SOFT MOMENTS WITH YEONJUN - @blue-jisungs

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au

"Hihii!! Your writings are so incredibly good like you deserve to be one of the big 3 writers of kpop fanfic dead serious here. Can i request random moments with idol yeonjun!! In the dorm, practice room, with the members. Just random moments while dating yeonjun :))"

CHOI BEOMGYU

ATTENTION - @/aakomii

oneshot, fluff, college

Everyone and their mama knows about Beomgyu’s massive crush on you. Even you do, but you’ve never given the poor boy a chance. He’s not complaining though, he loves the chase and you love the attention.

ETERNALLY - @h4chi

series, fluff, angst, fake dating, friends to lovers, idol au, smau

yn works as a producer for the companies BigHit and SM. one day she founds herself victim of a dating scandal, but what will happen when she agrees with her company to a dating rumor?

LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU... - @wildernessuntothemselves

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, arranged marriage, royalty

You go into your arranged marriage already distrusting your husband and all other men, and despite him repeatedly attempting to gain your favor, you are resolved to rebuke him at every turn. Will you manage to keep up the walls you’ve built to protect yourself, or will prince Beomgyu succeed in getting through your defenses?

HOW TO GET THE GIRL - @ijhyo

oneshot, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, college

lee chaeryeong is the most sought after girl in your school. everyone has fallen victim to her charms, including choi beomgyu and it is no surprise that he wants to try and win her over. what is a surprise is that he came to you for help considering that one: you have never spoken to him in your life, and two: you have no connection to chaeryeong at all. well, except for your beginners music composition class.

TOTALLY UNLABELED KISS - @heart2beom

oneshot, fluff, best friends to lovers

in which you and beomgyu teeter between being normal best friends and well...best friends who makeout from time to time.

KANG TAEHYUN

태현 소프트 시간 ⟡ [8:26 AM] - @kazmura

drabble, fluff, est relationship

"As the sun's gentle rays streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room, you slowly stirred awake, greeted by the peaceful stillness of the morning. The soft sheets tangled around your body, and you shifted slightly, feeling the weight of Taehyun's arm draped over your waist, holding you close in a comforting embrace."

HERO - @btxtreads

series, fluff, angst, idol, samu

"Heavily based off of the Disney Channel Original Movie “Starstruck”

OMG - @eundiarys

series, fluff, angst, idol au, smau, fake dating

in which — yn who just debuted gets into a dating scandal with one of the most famous group members because of a misunderstanding and is forced to fake date with him. what happens if it isn’t as bad as she thinks? and and what if she finds comfort with him? (❗️ — dia’s jueun is used to potray yn! )

SEASONS (WAITING ON YOU) - @noramoons

oneshot, fluff, angst, college

when your high school sweetheart choi yeonjun is off to grad school, you aren’t too worried about how your relationship will last—but your favorite coworker, kang taehyun, is. OR: a study in the seasons of loving and losing choi yeonjun—and how you put yourself back together afterwards.

HUENING KAI

LONELY BOY WILL STAY LONELY? - @awmancreeper

series, fluff, angst, idol au, enemies to lovers

StayC’s Y/n is notorious for being K-pop’s social butterfly and making friends comes rather easy for her. When she’s asked to be an MC for Inkigayo, one of her co-hosts doesn’t seem too pleased to be working with her. This unknown feeling sparks a drive to become the bestest of friends with him but from the looks of it, he’ll fight her the whole way there.

want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!

[t3a-tan]

Romantic and Hopeless (2/?)

First / Previous / Next

---

“Hey. Hope you're okay… I had an alright day today. Bit hungover from last night, but not too bad. Uhh… Freddo came over today since I was a bit upset and we went for a joyride. Blasting songs and shit— so I'm in a bit of a musical mood..!”

Sammy listened silently, laying on her side and staring out at the lab. Her gaze flickered between the cameras, almost entertaining the idea of responding before remembering Ryker was right; she didn't know how he had been listening, and for all she knew he would hear her the moment she spoke back.

His threat was still hanging in the air, swirling around in her head and conjuring all sorts of terrible fates that might fall upon her should she disobey. So, she shut her eyes and tried to shut her soulmate out instead.

“I know you usually sleep around this time so… goodnight. I-I uh… I thought you might like if I hummed a little lullaby— so I hope that helps you relax. Please be okay…”

Despite her efforts to not give in, she listened to his gentle humming, drifting off into a peaceful sleep; the first without nightmares in so long.

Why was the human insisting on making things so difficult for her? She was already in a terrible situation as it was, and now he was making it even more painful with his little offerings of love and peace. She hated it. She hated him.

So far a week had passed, and every night Sammy would be hummed to sleep. By day three she would lay awake waiting to hear his voice, only able to drift off when he was talking or singing something to her. Now as Sammy was out on Ryker's desk, getting measured as she regularly was, she finally felt bold enough to speak again.

“How did you hear us? I thought it was impossible for anyone other than soulmates to hear each other, and I know you're not my soulmate.” She sent a glare up at him for good measure, arms folded and trying to contain her shaking as the tape measure was wrapped around various parts of her body, markings of pen being made on her skin.

Ryker let out a hum of acknowledgement without looking in her direction, instead jotting down the measurements he had gathered.

“I’m not so foolish as to tell you the answer. You would find a way around it.” He responded simply. Sammy let a smirk come onto her expression, her posture becoming more casual.

“So there is a way around it then.” She responded. Her confidence faltered as soon as those unblinking grey eyes focused on her again, swallowing nervously. I probably shouldn't have said that out loud.

“You’re intelligent Sammy, but as usual, your mouth gets in the way.” He scolded lightly, but went back to writing things down a moment later. Sammy relaxed again, relieved that there had been no real retaliation towards her comment. “Regardless, a little thing like you wouldn't be able to comprehend my methods.”

The borrower couldn't help but feel offended but she bit her tongue this time.

Ryker brought his gloved fingers close again, delicately moving her limbs around. By this point Sammy was already used to this routine— yet despite that she still flinched whenever his fingers made contact.

“Open.”

Sammy let out a huff of defiance but opened her mouth, letting the human take a look in with his magnifying glass.

“Good. No tooth decay as far as I can tell. Close.”

Sammy closed her mouth again, frustrated by how used to this she had gotten, but also knowing why she had gotten used to it in the first place. Cooperating was better in the long run with Ryker. He was not distracted or entertained by her defiance like the others, so it would only annoy him.

“He seems like a sweet boy. Your soulmate.” He spoke again, writing down something about her teeth. Sammy tried to peek at his writing, only to blink as his words registered in her mind. “But I'm sure you've realised he's human by now. If you were to meet, you know he would just hurt you.”

She bristled. She had been trying to avoid thinking of that since she realised what he was, and now here Ryker was, shoving it in her face. Ryker raised an eyebrow at her troubled expression.

“Surely you know that already? Unless you've deluded yourself into thinking he would actually be different.” He leaned down, tilting his head slightly as his grey-eyed gaze bore down upon the little borrower's form. “I think you'll find, Sammy, that most people are rather disappointing.”

She averted her gaze, hugging herself a little tighter. She did understand that was the likeliest outcome…but she had still been hoping maybe that wasn't the case. He was one of the only comforts she had left since Tanner… and sure, every now and then Ryker could be nice, but Sammy would rather suffer on her own than be comforted by him.

“I see. So you were just pretending.” Ryker let out a small hum, his eyes flicking over her form again. A sigh rustled through her hair, causing Sammy to look up again. “Alright. Time to eat. You must eat something today.”

He spoke firmly, bringing a small bowl with an assortment of nutrients rich foods onto the desk. They were bland and Sammy disliked them, but it was all she could have. Still, the thought of eating without Tanner made her stomach twist. She shook her head, looking down.

“Sammy. It's not a request. If you go any more days without eating it will start causing damage.” Ryker slid the bowl towards her, the glass bowl scraping against cool metal. Sammy simply huffed again, turning away. “Do you want me to hold you down and force you to eat it?”

The threat made her turn around in alarm. The last thing she wanted was to be restrained, and the thought of Ryker forcing the bland food into her made her feel even more sick. She glared, before swiping up a seed.

“I hate you.” She murmured angrily with tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She winced as she took a bite, already feeling sick, hesitating to swallow.

“I know.” The doctor responded, unfazed by her ire. “Finish up, and then you can go to sleep.”

Soon enough Sammy was full, and she was put back in the glass enclosure that now felt more like home than the den she used to live in; when everyone was still alive. When she wasn't alone. She lay back on one of the folded up fabrics that made up her bed, staring up at the lid of the enclosure.

There is a way to avoid Ryker's detection… what is it though? Has he slipped up at all?

Right on time, her soulmate's voice began to enter her mind.

“Hey! Uh. College was boring as usual… just need to finish this course and then I'll be out of the water. Mum's gone with her boyfriend for the week, but I bet she won't come home when she says..” There was the sound of a small sigh. “I miss your voice. I ..still hope you're okay. I get that you probably can't tell me though, so I'll try to believe you are. Anyway. Lullaby.”

This time Sammy didn't allow herself to drift off to his humming, trying to figure out the solution. Then it hit her.

Ryker knew I was putting my hands together, but he couldn't actually hear me before. Does that mean it's a range thing? She glanced towards the cameras, before curling over, trying to make her position look as natural as possible whilst holding her hands together, keeping them under the makeshift blanket.

“H-hello..?”

“Bloody hell— Hey! Hey— are you okay? What happened?? Are you…are you safe now..?” His voice sounded so urgent but relieved at the same time. Sammy was tense, listening for any signs that Ryker still noticed… It was irrational because he wasn't even in the lab right now, but she couldn't help it.

“I'm okay. Not safe, but for right now I'm alive. I'm sorry for going silent. He said if I spoke to you again he'd do something bad to me.” She responded slowly, her internal voice coming across quiet and hesitant, like she was trying to stay quiet. “I don't think he can hear me right now…”

“Jesus. The guy you mentioned before? Uh. Zorro something?? Is he the one threatening you? If you know his full name I can call the police for you. Hell, I'll even come down myself and deal with him for you.” He spoke, his tone a mix of anger and concern.

Sammy shuddered at the thought of human police bursting in, recalling that several men had told her about their jobs, and several of those same men had claimed to be officers.

“Zorro Ryker. He has a gun. You'd just be putting yourself in danger… And I don't want any police. I don't have a good track record with them.” And she knew that her soulmate didn't either, as he had mentioned to her before. She didn't know exactly what a delinquent was, but it seemed he got in trouble by human standards often.

“A gun!?? What!? I— I know that you can still get guns in England and shit but… wait. You said he was going to hurt you if you spoke to me again? Why are you speaking to me! I don't want you to get hurt to save my feelings.” Sammy winced at the raised voice as it echoed around her head.

“I don't think he can tell. He's not here right now…I'm hiding from the cameras so he'll just think I'm asleep. But from now on, act like you still haven't heard from me. If I talk to you, that's when you'll know he's not around and we can talk freely.” She could hear her own breaths as her pulse hammered in her ears, the adrenaline rushing through her at the thought that she had made a mistake and Ryker knew already.

“I… I don't know what to do. I can't just go about my day knowing you're…wherever you are with that maniac. I promise I won't get police involved, just…please explain? A bit.” Sammy heard the pleading edge to his voice and she released a small sigh. She couldn't explain everything…not to a human. But she could explain some things.

“Okay.” She hesitated. She had never told anyone this before— she had never had anyone to tell and she didn't like to think too much about how long she had been trapped here. “I… On my 14th birthday, me and my younger brother got taken.”

She had to pause before continuing, but Oscar interrupted with a hushed tone.

“You…you've been there the whole time. Since we started talking— I…” Sammy winced at his bewildered reaction, just holding still to keep her sleeping act going. “I'm so…sorry. Is your brother with you? Is he okay?”

“No. He… I started getting quiet because he um. He… “ She couldn't finish her sentence, getting choked up again at the thought. It felt so much colder under this blanket without him nestled against her. It was so quiet without his faint snoring and sleepy murmurs. She tried not to cry though— she was still pretending to sleep after all. “Y-ya know… It happens.”

“Jesus. I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say…” He trailed off slowly. “Hey, uh… could I have some nickname to address you by..? It would make it easier to talk. I can give you one for me too.”

Sammy thought about it, finding the question to be a good distraction from her flashbacks.

“Rabbit.” It's what her parents had called her when she was younger— because of her boundless energy and tendency to hop all around the place; all of which stemmed from an eagerness to start going on borrowing trips.

“An animal name? Cool. I'll pick an animal name too then… Uhh… how about Fox? They're red like my hair.”

Sammy almost laughed at that. Ironic that he was picking a predator animal whilst being one of the most ferocious predators to her species. It's fitting.

“Okay, Fox. I'll explain some stuff...”

[bitchylandtyphoon]

Important to me

Sam Winchester x Reader

(Y/N): your name

(E/C): eye colour

(C/C): celeb crush

Sam and Dean slowly descended the rusty black stairs, trying not to trip from exhaustion. Every nerve ending in their body was hypersensitive; their fingers and toes were cold; their eyes and heads pounded from lack of sleep; and a rotting stench was secreting from their overworn clothing. “Hey guys, how was the hunt?" you asked in a gentle voice to avoid elevating their migraine pain. Dean mumbled under his breath as he walked to his room; even Sam could only give a small smile and “tiring” as a response.

You’ve noticed how the boys have become more tired after their hunts. Maybe it was because you did all the research while they did all the dirty work, or simply because they were getting older. Either way, it’s been taking a toll on their health, and you know it wouldn’t be good in the long run.

Judging from their clothes, you assumed they’d be taking a shower before getting some shut-eye, but you didn’t want them to go to bed hungry.

Walking to the kitchen, you opened the white door of the fridge, which consisted of a few eggs, lettuce, and beer. Wow, no wonder these guys only eat out. Groaning, you grabbed your keys and coat, texting Sam and Dean that you'd be heading out, knowing disturbing them wouldn’t be the best idea.

——————————————————————— Sam walked out of the steaming shower, wrapping his lower body in a towel. Taking another to dry off his hair. He ran his long fingers through his hair, noticing it had become very coarse over the past few months. Sam thought back to a hunt when shards of a monster's guts managed to get stuck in his hair. He felt like it was a personal attack; a shower didn’t help as much as he wanted to either. He spent hours trying to get the red and black hard goo out, even asking Dean. Unfortunately, Dean was not very gentle and made Sam partially ball. He remembers how you saved the day with coconut oil and a small brush. You had to sit on a chair while Sam sat crisscrossed in between your legs. You guys were still getting to know each other, so it was an awkward moment, but after Sam felt your gentle nails and euphoric massage, he melted. His head rested on your bare, soft thigh as you worked on the sides of his head. He felt so much at peace that he could’ve slept right then and there. He chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair, wishing he could have some of that magic right now. He wanted the comfort you gave him.

Putting on his comfier clothes, he slid into his bed, falling soundly asleep with a fond yet tired memory passing through his head once more.

——————————————————————— You slide open the door, balancing heavy bags of groceries, a special box containing a slice of heaven for Dean, and the boys’ favourite drinks. You dropped the bags in the kitchen, unpacking them away into the cupboards and fridge. Knowing it would be a long night, you pulled out your phone and put some music on low. You then turned on the gas stove, grabbing the lighter out of the drawer to start the fire. Begin by taking out mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, and other foods, washing them before finely chopping them, and cooking them on low heat. You added seasoning and eventually smelled the delicious aroma emanating from the dish. Now you need to cook the meat.

————————————————— Each boiling drop from the shower head felt relaxing and painful as it fell onto Dean's hunched back. The heat soothed his ache, yet, the new bruises were sending another sensation of pain throughout his back. He groaned as he faced the shower head and allowed the pellets to hit his face, giving all his might to scrub away the dried-up blood and sweat embedded in his freckled skin. All he could think about was sleep, hoping to sleep as much as he could yet, knowing another case would cut his rest short. He took the white soap bar and breathed in the rose aroma it released, it reminded him of you. Dean was glad he had a girl like you in his life, no matter what was bothering his thoughts or physically torturing him, he knew he’d have you to patch him up. You were always there for Sam and him. Every time you carefully did his stitches, gave him a needed hug, fixed his tie or walked into your room, the smell would give him a sense of comfort. It reminded him of his younger days spent with his mom. It reminded him of home.

——————————————————————— You put on the blue oven kits cautiously taking out the crispy chicken from the oven. The meal was finished and so were the other dishes you made. You even had time to prepare healthy snacks and some of Sam’s favourite protein drinks. From a young age, you hated the thought of being a housewife and having to complete all the duties at home, but you knew it was the least you could do to cheer them up, adding much-needed order to their already chaotic lives. Plus, it was nothing compared to all they did for you after they took you in. You smiled as you admired the dinner table, for once looking like a normal family’s dinner table and not used as a summoning ground.

You knocked on Sam’s door to get no response, knowing the younger Winchester might’ve fallen asleep you went to go check on the other one. Knocking once again to hear a low “yeah…”. Pushing the door you see a half awake, now clean Dean, lying against the headboard watching TV.

“Hey,” you gently said. “How are you feeling?”. His eyes were still heavy with sleep but pupils dilated from insomnia. You could tell he tried sleeping but to no avail. “Listen,” you sit on the bed and see him smile a bit. “I know you’re tired but I made some food for you and Sam and you should eat. You’d sleep better with a full stomach. And I might have some pieee”. With that Dean jumped into his bunny slippers and strutted towards the kitchen in his pink nightgown. Chuckling at Dean's cuteness, stopping before leaving the room as you saw the big pile of bloodied clothes on the floor.

———————————————————————

“Hey Sam, I’m coming in.” You announced, entering the neat room, smelling a mix of pine trees and cheap cologne. You saw Sam’s large body lying on his stomach, a soft snore coming from his peaceful slumber. Quietly entering the room, you searched for his hamper, unlike the other one, Sam kept his dirty clothes in one, making it easier for you to take the clothes out of his room.

As you passed by Sam, you stood there watching him, taking advantage of the sliver of peace he was given. You put the hamper down slowly to not wake up Sam, getting on your knees, face level with Sam’s. You watched as his lips laid in a pouted style, opening once in a while to exhale, you took notes of the small moles, birthmarks and faint freckles scattered over his face like stars, noticing how perfect his nose was; never have you ever seen a perfect natural triangle. His thick dark brown eyebrows arched over his forehead symmetrically and his lashes fluttered gracefully as butterflies. His hair was your favourite part, ever since you helped take the guts out of his hair you missed the proximity and softness. His soft hair tickled the inside of your thighs and reminded you of a dog’s overgrown mane. It was beautiful to touch.

You then noticed the crevices appearing in his forehead and eye sockets. He starts to stir in his sheets, the peaceful expressions disappearing, turning into a pained one. He began making uncomfortable noises. He was going into a nightmare.

“Sam, hey wake up! Sam come on, wake up. It’s just a dream!” Sam’s head started moving side to side, the veins in his temple and neck protruding. His eyes were tightly shut and beads of sweat formed across his forehead. His hand gripped firmly onto the arm shaking his shoulder, the other gripping the the brown sheets. “SAM WAKE UP!” Shouting wouldn’t help anymore, looking around you see a cup of water on the nightstand.

——————————————————————— Sam jolted up with a gasp, cold water on his face which soaked most of his hair and nightshirt. He grasped onto as much air as possible, eyes wide trying to familiarize his surroundings. A sense of relief overcame him when he saw your concerned (e/c) eyes.

He saw how your eyes travelled over his face searching for an answer, too shocked or scared to say anything. He sighed, “Don’t tell Dean, please.”

“Ok, I won’t.” What was that, you thought to yourself, you’ve never seen this type of behaviour from him. “At least talk to me about it. You’ve been more tired than usual and it’s worrying. If you’re not gonna tell Dean, tell me.”

Sam smiled, his heart swell when he heard your confession. For once someone was listening to his struggles without ratting out to Dean.

“Um Sam…” Sam shares a confused look until you look down at your now red and numb arm. “Sorry!” Sam immediately retracts his arm away, allowing the blood to rush back to the area.

“It’s like you’ve never touched a girl before or something” you joke trying to lighten up the mood. He laughs under his breath. “Come downstairs and eat something.” You demanded as you rubbed your sore arm.

“It’s okay-“

“Sam.”

He grins his teeth as he sees your serious face. Cute, he thought.

You grab onto his large calloused hands and attempt to pull the giant out of bed, barely budging. “Oh my god, you are so friggin heavy. How are you built like a god with all that junk food?”

He jumps to his feet almost falling on top of you, your nose meeting his chest as the scent of fresh soap fills your nose. A blush rises to your skin at the proximity, looking up you see his brown eyes already staring down at you. You felt his thumb glazed over your smaller hands, which you both held onto each other. “So you think I’m built like a god huh?” Sam suggestively asks with a raised eyebrow.

Taking a quick step back, you playfully shove him away. “Haha very funny Indeed Winchester, get your ass downstairs.” Crossing your arms you wait till he exits his room, him and his footsteps disappearing into the hallway.

“(Y/n) THINKS I HAVE A HOT BODY” Sam shouts from the hallway; your eyes widen as instant embarrassment runs through your body. You hoped to god Dean didn’t hear or you’d never see the end of the teasing.

———————————————————————

You return to the kitchen to see two big babies chowing down on the meal you made, acting as if they hadn’t eaten in ages.

“(Y/n), THISH FWOOD ISH AMASHING” You barely make out the words as Dean continues to stuff his mouth with food. “What he said,” Sam says as he adds more food to his plate. You giggle as you sit next to Sam, glad to see them eating a proper meal. “Where did you even learn how to cook like this?” Dean asks. “My mom used to teach me the basics but then I picked it up more when I moved out. Haven’t cooked like this since University actually,” you answer. “So you’re gonna tell me we could’ve been eating like kings but you decided to torture us with takeout.” Dean jokes while dropping his fork on his plate. “I never hated you more.”

You burst out into laughter throwing your head back, “Please, you love me.” You say rolling your eyes. You noticed how Sam became quiet, twirling his food around a fork.

“Not as much as Sammy does,” Dean says with a devious smirk. Sam chokes on his food as you roll your eyes. “Very funny Dean” Sam glares at Dean.

“Sorry Sam but I’m off limits, too committed to (c/c).” You giggle as you jokingly twirl your hair. “He’s such a daring man dramatic sigh”.

“I’m gonna puke my food up if you keep acting like that,” Dean says with a disgusted face while trying to put even more food in his mouth.

You cheekily smile and see as Sam scoffs, taking note of the weird action. Dean gets up to put his plate away, you take this as a cue to start cleaning up the kitchen.

“Goodnight” Dean yells as he walks out the door. You and Sam both say goodnight. Then it hits you, that rascal. He left you and Sam in the kitchen alone. You can already feel the blood rushing to your ears, instead, you try to distract yourself by doing the dishes.

“Do you need help with anything?” His eyebrows knit together as he asks “Let me help clean at least.”

As much as you wanted him to rest, you couldn’t say no to him and his persuasion. Or maybe he had you wrapped around his finger. “Uh yeah, I’ll wash and you dry?” You offer pointing to the load of dishes. “Yeah, that’s great”. You grab the yellow sponge and begin scrubbing the sauces off the pots, leaving Sam to get the towel. Unmindful of you, you forget where the towels are, right in the cabinet in front of you, the towels stacked on the higher shelf. As you were about to move you felt Sam’s figure hover over your smaller frame. You freeze as you feel his body’s heat mingle with your cold body. His large hand rests on your lower back.

To another person, it could be a simple gesture, but to you, deep down you were screaming from the closeness of it all. Somehow Sam had always made you shy in his presence, you didn’t know if it was because of how smart and skilled he was that made you feel inadequate to him or how he made you weak in the knees with his beautiful…well everything. You’ve been close with other men like Dean, yet Sam’s touches and glances manage to get your cheeks red and heart pumping.

You mindlessly scrub a knife, hoping to finish the chore as soon as possible. “Ow ow ow…” you grimace in pain as the knife slices the side of your finger. You see Sam reacts quickly. Grabbing your hand and putting it under the faucet, turning on the cold water. “This looks pretty bad,” he says as he takes your hands in his. One hand holds on to your wrist while the other gently presses the cut, attempting to get as much blood out.

You could not imagine a more embarrassing moment, the one time you’re alone with Sam you embarrass yourself like a child. Yet you couldn’t ignore how Sam’s body was pressed against yours, you could feel the rough outlines in his body. The front of his leg pressed up against your butt.

“Does it hurt?” Sam asks, not looking away from the cut.

“It just stings but not too much” you reply, noticing the decreased blood spillage.

He takes your other hand and guides your fingers into mirroring his previous actions. “Don’t move I’ll be back”. His warmth fades and you stand still, waiting as the cold water cleans up your cut.

You throw your head back, groaning at your clumsiness.

——————————————————————- Hissing in pain, Sam dabs rubbing alcohol into your new cut. You’re now sitting in his room as it was the closest place with a first aid kit.

“There, all done. How does it feel?” Sam finishes wrapping a large bandaid around the wound.

“I am so much better now. Thank you, Sam.”

Sam gives you a soft smile and he cleans the area up, you watch as he picks up the remote and turns on the TV.

“I thought you were tired”

“Come on, it’s only like 10 pm. We’ll be fine.” Sam defends himself as he sits on the other side of the bed. “Come closer.” He pats the empty spot beside him.

You look stunned at what the Winchester is implying until you realize he means to lay against the headboard. You slowly get up, sitting beside Sam but leaving a good space between both your bodies.

“So what do you want to watch?” Sam asks as he starts surfing through movies on his TV.

“I’m okay with whatever.” ——————————————————————— You turn to Sam to talk to him about the climax when you realize he has dosed off. His head leaning back on the headboard, from the side it looked uncomfortable. Not knowing what to do, you decided to wait until the movie finished. ——————————————————————— You yawned as the movie neared its end, all the characters looking over the bleeding horizon as the camera zooms out. From the lack of movement, you assume Sam is still asleep. You take his phone off the nightstand and turn the do not disturb mode on, if other hunters need you, you’ll handle the case for them. He deserves some rest.

You pull out your phone to scroll through your private socials. Seeing a few edits of your (c/c) and quietly giggling to yourself. You take a glance at Sam, still dosed off. He looks better now. Wait, you look between your (c/c) and Sam. Omg, how did you not see it before? You groan internally as you stare at your phone; the long-haired, smart, well-mannered, and tall golden retriever guy. They were honestly so alike. You hoped the boys wouldn’t be able to see the resemblance.

You thought back to the moment at the table when you were gushing over (c/c) and Sam scoffed. Do you think he was jealous? No, no way. You calm yourself down before the redness reaches your face.

You felt a heavy weight shift onto your shoulder, his hair tickling the crevice of your neck. You didn’t want to wake him up by checking but it was very evident that Sam had fallen asleep on your shoulder. You could smell the sandalwood scent coming from his hair, wishing you could get more of the comforting smell.

Sam was tired and you knew it would be a big fuss if you woke him up. So, you stayed there, looking at the TV screen, trying to hold in any excitement or scream within you. The butterflies are swarming their way around your stomach. That is until you felt Sam’s arm wrap around your torso.

You stay still, unlike your body temperature which skyrockets at the sudden touch. You feel yourself being pulled towards him even more, his head snuggling dangerously close to your neck, his lips close to your skin. Sam’s hot breath created a burning sensation, your heat causing them to burn tenfold.

You weren’t gonna move, you couldn’t leave, you were stuck beside Sam for the rest of the night. You exhale trying to calm yourself; he’ll forget all about this tomorrow. This is totally what friends do. You cuddle and panic internally with Dean all the time. You couldn’t be lying more at this point. You shut your eyes, you carefully reach over to turn the nightlight off.

click

The only light was emitting from the faint blue light on the TV. Its light began to shut off as the room welcomed pure darkness.

So you lay there in the dark as you feel Sam’s body snuggled right up to yours, his arms holding you captive as his fingers twitch and graze you ever so often. This would be a dream if you guys were together. You’ve liked Sam ever since you knew him, and you love both him and Dean very much. Doing everything in your power to show how much you care for them. You just wanted Sam to love you and adore you the way you did.

You felt a wave of exhaustion hit you, and your own eyes became heavy with fatigue. Blinking slowly, you succumb to Sam’s comfort and allow your heavy head to lay on his.

[thetriplets3]

hi lovely! i have a request!!! could you do one where matt and reader are secretly dating and they go out on a date and someone catches them? like fan and they post it or something?? thx girl love ur work!!!

❝𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰❞

this is the jet lag and the covid brewing in my body that wrote this, not me. i have no idea if any of this is coherent or makes sense but i hope it’s okay

matt and i have been dating for nearly 2 years now having been friends since highschool. and we decided it was best for both of us to keep our relationship a secret public eye. his brothers, nate, and madi know but that’s it. just a few people we know would never say anything. their fans know of me and that i went to school with them so it’s no surprise to see me with them all but that’s the extent of it. matt posts a few soft launch photos of us but keeping me private. i don’t follow the boys from my main account so no fans have been able to dig through his followers to find who the mystery girl is.

matt and i rarely go out alone, always with his brothers or friends. there’s a small part of me that hurts that we decided to do this. not being able to spend time together in public without making things look very platonic, having to keep distance when we’re with friends who don’t know about us, or not being able to show my love openly for my boyfriend. i often turn down going to big events because i find them overwhelming, too loud, too many different things going on at once, it’s just too much for me especially when i can’t be with matt, my security blanket making me feel safe and comfortable.

it’s a blizzard outside, roads too icy for anyone to brace except those working. not to mention it’s the kind of cold that makes your nose hairs instantly feel frozen. using this weather to our advantage, matt and i carefully headed to our favorite little family run bakery down the road. one thing i hate is being cold. dressed in my comfiest thickest sweats, a fleece sweatshirt, a puffy jacket with a scarf just about covering my whole face you could hardly tell who i was, but i was warm and comfy.

we grab a table in the corner of the bakery decorated with warm christmas lights hung above the plush couch with a variety of plants aesthetically placed around the space. the atmosphere was beautiful, soft and gentle lighting, a fireplace adorned with christmas decorations and garland, instrumental music played quietly over the speakers, and to make it even better there wasn’t anyone in here other than the odd person that came in briefly here and there.

i leaned into matt’s side resting my head on his shoulder and his arm holding me closer to him. we sat there facing the large bay window soaking in the peace and beauty of the snow falling. we sat quietly in silence for a while before something out the window caught our eye. 2 teenage girls quickly putting their phones away once they saw us watching them, giggling as they ran away. 

“matt” my voice falters, worried about what might be posted.

“i know it’s okay try not to worry, im sure you can’t even tell it’s us through all that spray on snow on the window. plus you’re so bundled up you look like cousin itt. no one will recognize who you are and if they do, they do. it’s out of our control love,” he tries to reassure me. he pulls his phone out and take a photo of us. “see? we’re good don’t worry”.

“omg i do look like cousin itt” i giggled.

“whatever happens, happens okay? sure they’ll know we’re dating but that’s all they know. we can still keep our relationship private just like we are now nothing has to change. i mean is it so bad that they know? i can take you on proper dates without having to hide you. so what if people see us? they only see a sliver of our relationship, they’ll see us together but that’s all they know. they don’t know our favorite song, the moment i fell in love with you, how you fit right into our family, how much my parents love you, mom’s told me you’re like the daughter she’s always wanted, nick and chris love you, everyone does. so i don’t care if they see us together, they only see the outside of our relationship. i know without a doubt in my mind that i’m gonna marry you one day. what they know doesn’t affect our relationship. i love you pretty girl”.

“i didn’t know you had a thing for cousin itt” i giggled earning a nudge to my shoulder from matt at my lack of seriousness. “i’m kidding, you’re right they can see the outside of our relationship and make their own assumptions. all that matters is we know our relationship. i love you”.

squeezing me closer to his side he rests his head on mine planting kisses to my head. “who doesn’t have a thing for cousin itt?” he joked making me laugh.

“i can’t wait to marry that laugh”.

taglist:

@antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld @strniolo @luvsturniolo

[chosoisamalewife]

I’m already gone

Character: choso x m!reader, yuji x reader (PLATONIC)

Warnings: character death! SPOILERS FOR 259

A/N: This wasn’t requested, just sort little something because I love pain 😭✌️

A/N: GOJO NEXT

A/N: THE TIMELINE IS DIFFERENT TO MAKE IT FLOW BETTER.

🎵Listen to already gone by sleeping at last🎵

Growing up in the world of sorcery, you were taught that curses were evil. They were ugly and were the most vilest things on this earth, but then you met him. Choso, a hybrid between a curse and a human, and he was beautiful. He was introduced to you as yuji's half-brother. You were erie of him at first, not understanding how could a curse be good. Even if he was only half, over time, you and him grew closer. You began to see he was more human than anything. He had more humanity than most humans. His soul and everything about him were beautiful l, even during the moments he didn't feel beautiful. Those moments were he cried into your chest, that he was a monster. You never understood how he could think that. The love that he showed you and his brothers was love that monsters couldn't possess.

He was the best thing to ever happen to you. He was kind and gentle to those he loved. He cherished and projected y'all like his life depended on it.

You were currently out of fighting during an injury. Choso told you not to stay awake waiting for him to return, but you never listened anyway. It always ends with him coming home to you asleep on the couch. This night was no different. One moment, you were lying there watching the tv, and then the next, you were asleep. It was a beautiful, peaceful dream. You and choso were at the beach enjoying the waves and the sun. It was empty there as if it were only you and him on the earth. No other soul, no curses, no fighting just each other

He was chasing you around the beach, the sound of yours and his laughter being music to your ears. Then, all of a sudden, he stops and just stares at you. The action caused you to stop in your tracks too. You took a breather for a second before walking up to him. "Hey, what's wrong?" You brought one of your hands to his cheeks, caressing the apples of them gently. He nuzzled against your hand slightly before bringing his hand up to yours.

"Nothing is wrong, this is perfect." He smiled so gently at you. He cupped your cheeks, his hands bringing your lips to his. He kissed you so softly as if you were the most fragile piece of glass. Then he pressed his forehead against yours. " I love you," He whispered to you. "You couldn't have loved me better, thank you." He pressed longing kissed on your head.

You let out a little giggle, "There's no need to thank me, silly." His arms rested around you and slowly caressed you back

“I know, I just wanted to also so you don’t forget.” You could hear his voice break a little bit

“Cho don’t get sad on me baby, we’re happy and plus you’ll be back soon and we can do nothing but be with each other” He nodded his head at your words. You quickly escaped from his grasp and started running. “Now come get me lover boy”You yelled back, it caused he to start chasing after you full force.

You were awakened from your slumber by a knock at the door. It was yuji. He looked distressed, and he was crying. "Hey, are you okay." He quickly shook his head, and his lips started quiver. You quickly brought him into a hug not rushing him to get his words. He was sobbing into your shoulder. You could barely make out the words he was saying, but then you heard a broken "I'm sorry" and "choso"

"What?" The world felt like it stopped spinning and had begun to crumble around you. Your chest felt heavy, it felt like you could get air into your lungs. You pulled away from the crying boy and walked slowly to the couch you were previously sleeping on. He followed you in and set on the couch with you. You deep breaths, trying to keep your composure.

"I'm sorry, he sacrificed himself for me. I didn't know he was going to do that. Everyone keeps dying around me, and I can't do anything to stop it. It's all my fault." He barely gotten through his words with the hiccups and the crying. You gently pushed his head onto your shoulder.

"It's not your fault yuji. Choso was selfless, he would do that thousands and thousands of times again even if he knew the outcome. Which he did, and that's why he did it." Your voice was breaking and cracking, but you just gave him a soft smile trying to comfort the young boy.

Eventually, exhaustion hit yujiand he slept on your couch. You laid alone in the quiet room, the only noise were your wails. The pillows that still smelt like choso were soaked with your tears as you held it tightly to your body.

"Wake up, you have to wake up. This is just a nightmare, you'll wake up." You spoke to yourself in between your wails of sorrow and pain. In reality, you knew the truth. This is reality and he was truly gone. He will always be gone

I ADDED YUJI AND READER COMFORTING EACH BECAUSE THAT POOR BOY NEVER HAS TIME TO GREIVE AND HE DESERVES SOME AND COMFORT

BYE Y'ALL ✌️😭, I HATE YOU GEGE

[byeuijoo]

i told the moon about you 𐀔 han dongmin

genre : only fluff ⋆ warnings : reader had a bad day, parental pressure, school stress ⋆ word count : 667

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ୨ ✩ ୧

escaping through your bedroom window wasn't something you were used to do, but today, an overnight getaway seemed all too necessary. but rambling alone wasn't what you wanted, and your best friend was best qualified to accompany you in your crazy ideas.

that's how you ended up in his car, on the passenger side, with your head sticking out of the wide-open window and your hair blowing in the wind. his hands on the steering wheel, dongmin nevertheless glanced at you, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. your chin resting on your forearms while looking all around you — the city lights flashing right in front of your eyes.

the atmosphere was restful, synonymous with relaxation and well-being, everything you needed after that long, exhausting day. college classes were stressing you out to no end, and the pressure your parents were putting on your shoulders about your studies was really starting to wear you down. you knew they were saying it for your own good — but sometimes you felt that you were studying for them and not for yourself.

something peaceful enchanted the night : maybe it was the cool wind caressing your face, or maybe it was the lights flashing in front of your eyes as you drove along, or perhaps the sweet music that lulled your ears, or simply the feeling of dongmin's benevolent gaze burning in your back. no matter the time, situation or place, you knew he was the only person who would say yes to all your requests. you could count on him as much as he could count on you.

after many long minutes wandering the streets, the car found itself in a completely deserted parking lot. with the engine off but not the music, you unbuckled your seatbelt without leaving your previous position. taesan fiddled with the buttons to open the sunroof, giving you a superb view of the stars and the prettiest of them all : the moon.

its dazzling light illuminated the whole car, bringing a gentle smile to your face. and although the silence was more restful and comforting than anything else, you decided to break it by speaking up.

« i told the moon about you. » you declared in an almost faint whisper. your words were not without meaning for the young boy beside you, the one who couldn't hide the shy smile that tugged at the corners of his lips at your words. « and what did you tell her? » he asked, in a curious tone.

you didn't know if you should tell him this secret : is that a good idea? you bit your lip, thinking slightly, then wondering what the moon would do in your place. would she confess this secret to the sun? probably. without taking your eyes off her, you decided to tell him precisely the simple secret you had confided to the moon, after having spent hours ranting about the young boy. « i told her i loved you. » you declared in a barely audible voice, which nevertheless didn't escape dongmin's acute hearing.

you didn't notice the sudden reddening of the tips of his ears, nor the way he looked away from you out of simple shyness. but you felt his long fingers close over yours, and the warmth of them envelop your hand. which finally caught your attention — and just as you raised your face to him, you felt his lips place the softest of kisses on yours. it was soft, a little too short, and a little too light, but enough to make the moon blush. his face remained close to yours for a few seconde, the brown of his eyes piercing yours, and your heart racing at the mere sight of the smile on his rosy, soft lips.

« i told the sun about you, » he began, before placing a second kiss on the corner of your mouth, « and i told him i loved you. »

⠀⠀

reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

[ladamedusoif]

Tempered in the Fire - Part One

See the Series Masterlist for complete content warnings, historical event information, and series notes.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Pairing: Blacksmith!Din Djarin x F! Reader

Summary: Ireland, almost a decade after the rebellion of 1798. You are an unusual woman: married, but alone; a widow, with no certainty her husband is dead. When your local blacksmith is badly injured in an accident and unable to work, you have no choice but to travel to the next forge, run by a man of few words whose uncertain origins and dark complexion make him stand out among the locals. You are immediately intrigued by this mysterious, taciturn figure - and the striking little boy he’s taken as his apprentice.

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: Mature (chapter); Explicit 18+ (series)

Content (chapter specific): Blacksmith!Din AU; historical setting; references to violence; references to spousal abandonment; strong language; almost certainly inaccurate depictions of blacksmithing; slightly wonky history; likely slightly wonky renderings of Irish language (technically my third language!).

A/N: Translations for any dialogue in Irish are provided at the end of the chapter. The Irish language was one of the casualties of the colonisation of the island, as it became associated with a lack of education (though the tide turned somewhat in the late nineteenth/early twentieth centuries) and has never recovered. (Go and listen to ‘Butchered Tongue’ on Hozier’s latest album for a musical reflection on this, it even includes references to 1798)

Tagging interested parties and my usual taglist people - sign up via my taglist if you want to be added (or let me know if you’d rather not be tagged!): @gracie7209, @yourcoolauntie, @tessa-quayle, @lunapascal, @julesonrecord, @trulybetty, @fuckyeahdindjarin, @katareyoudrilling, @perennialdoll247, @joeldjarin, @sunnywithachanceofjavi, @iamskyereads, @tieronecrush, @javierisms, @pedrostories, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @rhoorl, @red-red-rogue, @survivingandenduring, @khindahra, @love-the-abyss, @fictionismyreality, @imaswellkid

This is a quiet place, a landscape rendered in greens, greys, and whites, the simple rural dwellings peppering the good agricultural land that stretches across the county.

Appearances can be deceiving, though. What seems to the outsider as a long-established peace is the result of a more recent and more violent pacification. The fields where young men lost their lives in the pursuit of a dream of freedom give nothing away today, almost a decade after the rebellion was brutally crushed. They didn’t stand a chance against the arrayed ranks of muskets, being armed only with tall, sharp pikes, hammered for them on the anvils of sympathetic blacksmiths around the country.

The people who live and work here bear the scars - some literal, some psychological, but all livid, fresh, and painful.

In this idyll where trauma and anger simmers beneath the surface, his forge is a long, low, whitewashed stone building roofed in thatch. It’s a little outside the nearest village, sitting just off the main road on the way to the next big town. Like most of those who ply this trade, the blacksmith here lives alongside his place of work: one half of the building is the forge, the other is the neat, simple home he shares with the little boy he’s taken as his apprentice.

He’s an essential figure: he makes all manner of metal goods and repairs them, too, in a world where nothing is disposable. He shoes horses, too, and his gentle care for the elegant beasts is well-known around the county.

Still, he’s not the most obvious candidate for a ‘pillar of the community’. Unlike other smiths in the area he’s not known for holding court while he works, regaling his customers with yarns and stories. He keeps himself to himself, mostly, though he comes into the village with the boy to buy supplies, collect items for repair, and return what he’s mended to their owners.

He’s been at his anvil for twenty years, or thereabouts. As is the way of a small community, all manner of stories circulate about where he came from and why there was no obvious family of origin. Most assume he comes from travelling people, who are known for their skill with metalworking.

Such is his reputation for consistently good work, fairness, and decency, though, that no one would ever dream of pushing him to say more about himself. This man of few words, who wears his apron like his armour and sometimes wraps a band of grey cloth around his mouth and nose when he works, to protect his lungs from the soot and smoke, is both insider and outsider in a place where such binaries are normally strictly enforced.

“You’ll be living high on the hog soon enough, then, Din? What with all the work that’s coming your way now.”

He looks up from the horseshoe he’s hammering into shape, dark eyes staring at the silhouette of the local priest, framed by the light of the forge’s small front window. Father Carthy has come to have his horse shod - and, it seems, to discuss the blacksmith’s fortunes.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The priest steps closer to the anvil, a look of surprise on his face when he realises the blacksmith hasn’t heard. “Bad accident over in the forge at Donapatrick. He’ll be alright, but their smith is out for the next few months, at least. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Din dips the shoe into a tub of cold water, sending a hiss and a plume of steam into the air.

“So they’re coming to me?”

“Most of them. Your reputation precedes you.”

He wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Not sure I can take on all that extra work.”

Father Carthy scoffs. “Don’t turn it down, Din. Lean times are always waiting round the corner, just when you least expect them.” He peers around the stone forge at the centre of the room, trying to spot the little figure who’s been hiding in the shadows.

“Sure you have an apprentice to help you, don’t you?”

The little boy stares silently, intently with his huge, dark eyes at the man clad in clerical black.

“Well, he’s inherited your gift of the gab, Din, anyway. Look, you’ll be glad of the few extra shillings. I know it’s not always easy making ends meet, between looking after yourself and the lad.”

Din pulls himself up to his full height, cutting an imposing, broad figure in his soot-marked shirt, leather apron, simple brown woollen breeches, and boots.

“We manage. Gró?” The boy appears at the blacksmith’s side. “Tabhair dom na tairní, maith an bhuachaill.”

He swiftly locates a box of horseshoe nails, each made by hand at Din’s anvil. The priest raises an eyebrow.

“He’ll need English, Din, or he’ll get nowhere. I’d be glad to teach him if-“

Din cuts him off with a pointed sigh. “He understands every word. But this is how we talk to each other.”

Behind him, the sandy-haired boy narrows his eyes and scowls at Father Carthy.

You know it’s not usual for a woman of your age and station to ride alone, but then you’re not usual for a woman of your age and station. And your washtub is leaking, and your horse needs to be shod. Needs must.

You saddle up the horse, strapping the tub on one side, and wrap yourself up in your shawl, securing it at the waist with a well-worn leather belt. You mount the little brown horse and turn her in the direction of Donapatrick and the local forge.

“How did you not hear?” Seán, the blacksmith’s apprentice, stares up at you in astonishment. “Everyone heard!”

You feel like kicking him in the ribs for talking to you like that. He’s no more than thirteen, and yet here he is talking to a woman who could comfortably be his mother (and then some) like she came down in the last shower.

“I didn’t hear because I wasn’t told, and because I have better things to be doing than gossiping around the village.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, regardless. You’ll have to go over to the other forge - the fella over the bridge, about twenty minutes away. You know it?”

You do know it, though you’ve never had reason to go inside. Why would you, when Peter’s forge is so much closer? You don’t even know the other blacksmith’s name, and in this part of the world that’s a strange situation indeed.

“Right, so.” You gently dig your heels into the horse’s sides, she starts to walk, and you make your way to the road that leads down to the river, the stone bridge, and, eventually, the whitewashed forge beyond.

Just as Father Carthy had predicted, Din was snowed under with extra work since Peter’s accident a week or so before. He is exceptionally well-organised by nature, managing his own accounts and records with great attention to detail, and he has extended the system to help him cope with the new demand. With Gró’s help, he organises the items for repair into separate sections, labelled according to whether they belong to existing or temporary customers. He sets up a new ledger to take account of custom orders from people who normally go to the other smith, and takes note of new faces who come to have their horse shod.

Din is cross-checking his records at the table in the main room of his home when he hears the sound of hooves approaching. He asks Gró to peek out, to see if it’s a familiar face or another new customer.

The boy climbs up on the deep windowsill to look out through one of the small cottage windows.

“Is bean ar chapall í - ’s stráinséir í.”

Din stands up and goes to the door, reaching for his apron as he does so.

He cuts an unusual figure, this blacksmith. There aren’t many people around here who look like him. You notice the penetrating dark eyes first, taking you in as you slow and pull up the horse. His dark hair is wavy, curling in places, and you are surprised to see that he’s bearded - if you can call the patchy scruff around his mouth and jaw a beard.

He’s younger than you’d expected, maybe forty, and well-built - broad shoulders, strong, muscular forearms marked with scars from his work, his shirt loose and open to expose a stretch of his tanned chest. He ties on a leather apron as you dismount, and walks out to greet you.

“Good day. I was hoping you could help with a repair? And my horse needs to be shod, too. I’m sorry, I usually go to Peter up in Donap -“

He cuts you off with a nod. “I know. Yes. That’s fine. The tub, is that the repair?”

You raise your eyebrows at how direct he is. Curt, almost. Rude, some would say.

“It is. It’s leaking at the side, here.” You undo the strap and he takes the washtub down. It looks strangely tiny against his substantial form.

He turns and gesticulates with his head in the direction of the open door. From the dark interior, a striking boy emerges, clutching a piece of paper, some string, and a stubby pencil.

The blacksmith gives him instructions and he diligently scrawls a number on the paper, before attaching it to the tub with the string and carrying it into the forge.

“Do you only speak in Irish to him?”

The smith has turned his attention to your horse, examining each of her hooves in turn. He looks at you quizzically.

“It’s what he prefers. What we prefer. He understands English perfectly.”

“Unusual that he’s fair and you’re dark. Is his mother fair? I suppose she must be.”

He sighs.

“I don’t know.”

You can’t stop yourself from letting out a little gasp. He looks up at you, dark eyes frustrated at your constant chatter. But he knows this needs explanation.

“He’s my apprentice. He’s a foundling. I’ve taken him as my own.”

You feel your face heat, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

He strokes the horse’s muzzle, not looking directly at you. “You didn’t know. I can shoe the horse now, though you’ll need to wait. The tub will take a day or two.”

You nod in agreement.

“What’s her name?”

His voice is softer. He’s still looking at your little horse, who’s loving the attention from this new person.

“Réaltín.” She has a perfect little splash of white between her eyes, in the shape of a little star. You couldn’t have named her anything else.

He repeats the animal’s name, and you see the tiniest hint of a smile cross his lips before his serious expression returns.

It turns cold, and you wait it out on a stool just inside the door of the forge, glad of the warmth.

You watch as the blacksmith heats up and works the metal shoes at his anvil, so they’ll fit Réaltín’s smaller hooves perfectly. The light from the fire illuminates his features as he works, highlighting the beads of sweat on his brow and picking out the various shades of brown in his eyes. He has pulled a band of grey cloth over his nose and mouth, which draws your attention all the more to his dark gaze.

The little boy stares at you while the man works, occasionally helping him by fetching an implement or helping work the bellows. You give him a little wave and a smile, hoping he’ll respond. He doesn’t come any closer, but you see him grin for a moment before he disappears behind the broad figure of his master - well, his adoptive father, if what the blacksmith said is correct.

Peter’s forge is always full of chat and song and gossip, a kind of social hub as much as a vital service. In contrast, the only music here is the singing of the anvil as the silent, stoic smith works, interspersed with the whoosh of the bellows and the hiss of the cooling tub. He doesn’t look at you, eyes always trained on the task at hand or at his little apprentice. He doesn’t speak, except to the little boy.

After a few exchanges, you realise something. “Is he called Gró?”

The smith keeps working. “That is what I call him, yes.”

“Funny to call a little thing like that after a poker.”

He turns his attention to the fire for a moment before he answers you. “He kept trying to stoke the fire on his own when I first took him in. I said the word so much it became his name. He likes it.”

Silence. Singing metal. Hissing steam.

He makes sure Gró watches him at every step as he removes the old horseshoes, cleans Réaltín’s hooves, files them carefully, and attaches the new shoes. Throughout, he quietly explains to the boy what he’s doing, and why.

Your stomach is rumbling, and you remember the supplies you brought with you (and had forgotten about).

When they’ve finished the last hoof, you speak up. “I - I brought a cake of fresh bread with me, in case it took longer. And I have butter, too, and a little crab apple jam. I’d be glad to share it with the little lad.”

Gró’s enormous eyes widen with excitement and he grins. (He really does understand English perfectly, you think.)

“We have enough food for ourselves, thank you.”

The boy’s face falls.

“I just meant as a little treat. A thank you, for taking the job when you’ve so much to be doing.”

He sighs, again. “Well… ach. Yes. Come in.”

Their home is neat and simply furnished, and he evidently knows how to look after a household as well as a business. You sit at the wooden table in the main room, which serves as kitchen, living area, and office for the blacksmith’s records. Out of the corner of your eye you spy a ladder going up to the attic, which you presume must be used as a sleeping space. A door leads off the main part of the house to what looks to be a smaller room.

Gró is already on his third piece of bread, butter, and apple jam, a shiny orange smear on the tip of his little nose.

“I hope this tastes okay. It’s always so hard to know when you churn butter, isn’t it?” You sip some of the cool water he’d poured into an earthenware mug for you.

“I don’t know. I’ve never churned butter.”

His reply is so deadpan that you wonder for a moment if he’s joking. You decide he isn’t.

“It’s not that hard,” you continue. “And I have the cow and the milk so why not?” You chew on a bit of bread, appraising your handiwork. “Actually, not bad at all, this time.”

He grunts in agreement. “You have a farm?”

“A very small smallholding. Tenant to the lord, like most of us.”

“Your husband works the land, then.”

You stare at the crust of bread in front of you, and clear your throat.

“He doesn’t. He’s…not here. He’s gone.”

The blacksmith’s eyes soften. “I’m very sorry for your troubles. Sickness, or was it in the fighting -”

You look at him directly. “That bastard wouldn’t fight for anything, not even his wife. He’s not dead. Or at least, I don’t think he’s dead. But I wish he was, because then I’d really be free.”

For a moment it looks like the stoic blacksmith is going to choke. He reaches for his own mug and drinks deeply.

“Well, now, I -“

“He upped and went. A few years back. God knows where he is now. He’s not around here, anyway. I’d say he’s skipped to Belfast or London.” You finish your bread. “Lucky the smallholding had come through my father, so I wasn’t out on the road.”

He’s flushed, and evidently a little uncomfortable. Well, he started it, you think.

“How do you survive - do you have children, too?”

You shake your head. “No, a blessing not to have them. And I do what I did before I married - I sew. Mostly alterations and refashioning and repairing, now, but at least I have a trade.”

The smith nods to himself. “A useful one.”

“Not as useful as yours.”

He gives you a tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile.

You stand up and start to clear the dishes. “Keep the rest of the bread and the butter and jam. I’ll collect the jars when I come back for the tub.”

He starts as if to speak, standing up from his chair, and seems nervous.

“Could I - we - ask you to do something for us?”

“It depends, but…”

“Clothes. Gró’s clothes are in need of mending. Badly. Would you be able to help?”

You smile and nod. “I’d be delighted to. Lord, has the poor lad been going without mending for this long?”

The smith opens a wooden chest and takes out a small bundle of tiny items of clothing. “Not quite. Peigí normally does it, but she’s been so busy with the work in her yard lately that I didn’t want to ask.”

Peigí is something of a legend in the area, a fiery woman who stubbornly insisted on taking over her father’s trade in repairing carts and wagons - and succeeded. You smile wryly to yourself at the vision of her wielding a needle and thread.

He hands you the clothes, wrapped in a faded piece of red and white cloth. “Oh, hold on.” He reaches back into the chest and retrieves a dark grey knitted sweater that has seen better days. “I don’t know if you darn, too, but he’ll need this in the colder weather, and -“

You take the sweater, handling it with care, and clutch the little bundle to your chest. “It’s no bother at all.”

He smiles, genuinely smiles, at you for the first time. You marvel at how such a stern, hardy man can reveal himself to be quite so soft - eyes crinkling, expression warm and friendly, teeth white in that tanned face streaked with grime from the forge.

“Thank you…?” He pauses, waiting for you to introduce yourself. You tell him your name.

“And you’re…”

“Din.”

“Din. And Gró.” The little boy swivels in his seat at the sound of his name, and sends the sneaky spoonful of apple jam that he’s been enjoying flying to the flagstone floor.

Din accompanies you as you strap the bundle of clothes to the saddle, and mount Réaltín for the journey home.

“I’ll be back in two days for the tub. I’ll bring his things then.”

Din gives the horse an affectionate pat, and nods as you turn and head back up the narrow road.

Gró has come to the door of the house.

“’s bean deas í, a dhaid.”

Translations:

Tabhair dom na tairní, maith an bhuachaill.

Give me the nails, there’s a good boy.

Is bean ar chapall í - ’s stráinséir í

It’s a woman on a horse, she’s a stranger.

’s bean deas í, a dhaid

She’s a nice lady, daddy. (Can also mean ‘pretty lady’).

And yes, ‘gró’ in Irish can mean crow-bar - or, in older dialect, a poker.

[darksigns-exe]

dad omens - jolly karlsson

Word Count: 756 Ruffilo Noah Folio

You’ve been together for a while, you’ve had your talks and you’ve made your plans. And you’ve tried your best to time things so that Jolly would be home for the important things. Of course, with their line work, staying at home for long periods of time wasn’t really something he can do.

Thankfully, the positive test comes just as they’re wrapping up the touring for the band's latest album. 

Jolly is as ecstatic about the news as you are. You’ve been working towards this for a while, and finally seeing those two bars on the test had absolutely floored you. 

Things are perfectly fine and dandy until you’re informed that instead of one baby, you’re expecting twins. 

After a good cry – that will certainly not be the last – you readjust your footing. Throughout the duration of this pregnancy, you find yourself impossibly emotional at the smallest things. Cute baby bird? Tears. Sweatshirt that doesn’t quite fit any more? Tears. Jolly is more than content to offer whatever comfort you need. It’s a delicate balance, but most of the time he manages to find the right things to say or do. 

You’re especially thankful for the extra hands now that you have two newborn babies to handle. Jolly is incredibly helpful, takes whatever he can off your shoulders. He becomes very good at doing various things around the house with at least one of your kids on his arm. He’s juggling babies as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. He’s changing nappies as if the smell doesn’t even affect him. 

He’s perfected the nap time routine to the point that you’re scared for the time when he’s not there to put the twins to sleep. Sometimes you listen in on the lullabies he sings to them. Watching Jolly tend to the twins quickly becomes your favourite thing. He’s so gentle with him — not that you expected anything else from him. 

When you wake up to an empty bed one night and go searching for him. Following the soft cries of your son to the kitchen, you find him bare-chested, softly rocking him in an attempt to soothe the bitter cries. Of course, he tries to usher you back into bed, but you stay, keeping him company until your son settles down again. You watch from the door as he returns your son into his crib. He stays for a moment longer, making sure that the boy is settled and will continue to sleep. You’re tucked into bed a little while later, curled up around each other, enjoying one of the few rare moments of peace you’re awarded at the moment. You know that the peace doesn’t last long, and you gladly soak up the quiet moments you manage to squeeze in between the chaos that comes with twins. 

As the twins grow up, you find yourself balancing two fundamentally different people. The two have entirely different personalities, with your son following more in your steps and your daughter coming right after her father. She gets into the same music he’s into, sits attentively when he works in the studio. Jolly is incredibly supportive of her creative endeavours. Of course, he is just as supportive of your son's hobbies and interests. Kid’s into sports? He’s there, cheering on him. Arts? Every little drawing and sketch is saved and displayed. 

Jolly tries his best to catch on lost time when he’s home. They’re out on camping trips and other little adventures as often as possible. Most of the time it’s just the three of them, but on occasion it’s all four of you on these little trips, and you’re so very grateful that you get to have this with them. You get to watch them struggle with the tent, watch the twins double over with laughter when he tries to be so very cool but fails terribly. And when you sit around your little campfire at the end of the day, you can’t possibly wish for more. These three people are the most important people in your life, and watching them together makes all the stress and chaos and distance worth it. 

At the end of the day, all Jolly expects is honesty from your children. He doesn’t need them to perform great academic feats as long as they do their best and ideally have a little bit of a good time with it. He doesn’t need them to be the best and greatest, all he wants for them to find their place in the world.

[synnamon-hearts]

(Repost because Tumblr hates me)

Oh my God, I love your enthusiasm. 😂 Also you guys have gotten me hooked on Chris. I never used to be but now I am so thank you! 😆 I'll totally write for Mike too. Hell, any of the Until Dawn cast. They are hot as fuck! Anyway, to the headcanons! (Also disclaimer: I tried to do gender neutral since you didn't give any specifics but I made the reader fem at one specific part of it towards the end. I'm sorry. 😬)

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

So I can see this going pretty much how it went in my other Josh x reader x Chris headcanons. You are all good friends, get along super well, you all fall for each other, learn about it after a jealous fight between Josh and Chris, y'all fall in love, etc.

There is something special about you. You're different compared to anyone they have ever met before. A total badass with a killer cool style, sick tattoos, great music taste, and an awesome personality to go with it? What's not to like?

You spend your days listening to good tunes in your room while just chilling, but sometimes that can take a turn for the extreme. Some hangouts can just be relaxing, while others maybe become a makeout session with you in between the two. It could even go from a makeshift party in your rooms to them joining you to a quick and spontaneous trip to the tattoo shop, which one time you convinced them to both get one as well. Nothing too big. Just a matching pizza slice on all three of you for shits and giggles. It's hard to say what exactly will happen when the three of you hang on, and that's just the way Chris and Josh like it.

And when the three of you party together, OH does it ever get wild! Chris and Josh know how to have a good time and that usually means getting completely shitfaced, which is right up your alley. You spend your night drinking and dancing with the two, having the best time while others watch, some in amusement and others in jealousy or annoyance. But drunken nights with these two usually always ends in one way...

Now this is where things get a bit more... Spicy...

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

You may think that Josh is the dominant one. But that changes slightly when you come along. You basically have both of them in the palm of your hand. Seriously, one time they both kneeled in front of you, taking turns to have a taste while practically worshipping you with big puppy eyes.

Sex for the three of you is rough and fast, or slow and torturous. There is no in between and usually they are on the wrong end of that deal, spending the night either getting absolutely wrecked in so many ways.

And you really enjoy sitting back and watching them makeout intensely—always intensely because they know it always turns you on. As they grow more needy for touch, their kisses grow sloppier and aggressive. You won't let them touch you or themselves until you are fully satisfied and soaking wet for them both. Eventually, soft whimpers of need are heard, and that is enough to get you to where you need to be.

They LOVE your piercings in these moments. Of course, they love to admire them at any time of the day because they are cool as fuck. But in times like these, they are a great little tool to add a little extra pleasure to your love life. Josh loves how your lip and tongue piercings drags along the bottom of his shaft while he is fucking your throat, and Chris enjoys the feeling of your clit piercing when he grinds his tip against it. They never thought much about how much little bits of metal could bring such pleasure but they are all here for it.

When it is all said and done, things are more peaceful. You lay between the boys, while they lazily trace your tattoos as they grow more and more sleepy. The moment is always warm and loving. You enjoy the gentle touches of their fingers while they admire your ink. In a way, it's just as relaxing for you as well, and soon the three of you fall into a slumber, to continue the same patterns the very next day...

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

[sillymercury]

Hey Lucien!

Lucien x Musical!Reader

<3

Warnings: slight suggestiveness and some angst :p

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: You’ve been trying so long to make Lucien understand that he doesn’t have to try so hard for someone who doesn’t want him - not when you already love everything about him. When you decide to sing all the things you’ve been too scared to say, your mind can’t help but drift back to all the special moments that inspire you.

Based off ‘Hey Stephen’ by Taylor Swift

<3

“Hey Lucien, I know looks can be deceiving

But I know I saw a light in you

And as we walked we would talk

And I didn't say half the things I wanted to”

The wind gently blew my hair carrying the salty smell of the Sidra with it. The lights of the city were dancing on the water and I felt an ease fall over me as we walked through the city that was winding down.

“I would’ve moved here ages ago if I knew how beautiful this city was,” Lucien spoke gently as he basked in the peaceful air. At his words I couldn’t help but steal a glanced over and at that moment all of my breath was stolen from me. He looked majestic in the soft light from the setting sun, the tranquillity that rested on his features had my heart doing flips.

His face looked as if it had been carved from marble with a gentle, steady hand. His strong jaw that contoured into perfectly high cheekbones. His pointed nose that rested above perfect plump lips that looked ever so inviting. I saw his russet eye whirl as he took in his surroundings and in my imagination my fingers danced over his scars. The tanned skin on his face was painted with freckles and I wanted to kiss every one. And his hair, gods, his hair. It flowed down his back in gentle curls with the top half tied back; his bangs framed his face like a curtain flowing in the wind.

I let my eyes roam his entire body, his lean and muscled frame. His classic navy blue and gold tunic cut to fit him perfectly and the dark long sleeves that showed off the muscles lightly flexing in his arm.

“If I even knew it existed,” he laughed and the ariose melody knocked me out of my trance. I shook my head and laughed as well, bringing a hand to my mouth to make sure I wasn’t actively drooling.

“Well you’re here now,” I beamed up at him as I looped my arm through his. “And thank goodness, I’ve been in desperate need of a friend.”

He looked down at me and smiled and for the second time my breath was gone. I’ve never seen someone lit from the inside, but Lucien, he glowed.

“Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window

I'll be the one waiting there even when it's cold

Hey Lucien, boy, you might have me believing

I don't always have to be alone”

I sighed as I turned around and motioned for the bartender to bring me another one. Lucien was chatting up a pretty blonde female who found him very funny. He was charming and ladies flocked to his flame like moths, I just happened to be the one he never noticed.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he would go home with her as I threw back what was left of my stiff drink. He very seldom did, he was serious about courting Elain but she had evaded him for years now so he indulged when he “couldn’t help himself.” Most females only lasted a night, either not wanting more or running when they learned of his mate. He always thought it was fair, “Who would want me when my mate doesn’t even want me” he would joke in a sad tone. ‘Me!’ I would chant in my mind.

I didn’t care about Elain, and I would never admit to my dark fantasies of making her pay for the pain she put him through by stringing him along. I waited for the day she would finally reject him and I could pick up the pieces but it seemed she enjoyed taking her time deciding.

Perhaps one day she will choose him and I’ll remain the same, an after thought in the background of beautiful picture. I slumped forward resting my chin in my hand with another sigh. I spaced out while staring down the cup at the swishing the brown liquor, not noticing the presence behind me until warm hands met my shoulders.

“Put your nose any further in that cup and you’ll drown.”

I whirled around at the voice, “Lucien,” I breathed more to myself. Quickly scanning the floor behind him I didn’t see the blonde female anywhere. Looking back up into his eyes I gave him a small smile that mirrored his, “What happened, did you scare her off?”

Lucien just laughed as he took the stool next to me, motioning to the bartender for a drink of his own. “Nah,” he shook his head, his hair was down today and it swished around his face. He looked to me and his smile got wider, “I just would rather be with you.”

He nudged my shoulder as he spoke and I had to look away to hide my blush, how I wished that were really true.

“Hey Lucien, I've been holding back this feeling

So I've got some things to say to you (ha)

I've seen it all, so I thought

But I never seen nobody shine the way you do

The way you walk, way you talk, way you say my name”

“Thanks,” I smile as I accept the champagne from the tray, the store assistant only smiles in response.

I sip the expensive drink as I take in the scene of the small boutique. There were only 2 other shoppers in the hidden store, both are touchy couples searching for matching sets. I wonder briefly on the events they’re attending, balls, dates, or dinner parties. For a brief moment I let myself pretend I’m waiting for my partner, in my fantasy he’s looking for the perfect Tux to meet my father.

The fantasy dies when my rational mind cohorts with my insecurities and reminds me of reality. In reality Lucien is preparing for a dinner party at the river house, his carefulness and precision is for his mate, not me.

He was so excited at the invitation, dragging me out of my apartment saying he “absolutely needs the female opinion.” My heart broke every time he brought her up, “should I bring her flowers?” “I wish I knew what color she was wearing so I could match” “I hope she lets me sit next to her” and “I’m going to try sending something down the bond. Love? No. Adoration? Maybe she’ll like that.”

I know I have no room to be jealous, my jealousy is unfair to every party. I just hate how much he has to overthink with her, every interaction is like a chess move. With me… he could be himself. It would be natural and easy, no forcing interactions or twisting arms for conversations.

I’m pulled out of my mind when the door to the changing station opens and Lucien strolls out. His walk is lax, with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing his jaw. He’s clearly stressed but he looks so damn good, the view has me pressing my thighs together and shifting awkwardly.

He stops in front of me and the way he looks down has me biting my lip trying to control my bodies reaction. I couldn’t think of anything more horrific than flooding the intimate boutique with my arousal. In all my time I’ve never seen a male that can stop time, not like Lucien Vanserra. The world could catch fire and I would stop to stare, unaware.

He’s wearing a maroon suite with a white undershirt and he has his jacket pulled up, leaving every vein in his arms on full display. With his hair in a tight bun he looks positively divine. I look him over multiple times, greedily drinking in every detail.

“Y/N,” his smooth voice meets my ears and the way he says my name, low and methodical. I bite back the involuntary moan when it’s half way up my throat, leaving just an awkward grunt in response.

His face twists lightly displaying confusion before he continues, “I asked what you thought.”

I take the opportunity to inspect him one more time, and want to kick myself. The naughty thoughts invading my brain are shoved into a box with the promise of being delt with later.

“You’re beautiful,” I breathe out before I can conjure up a more appropriate response, a response fit to be given to a friend. “It’s beautiful, you look great.”

A light blush touches his cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach move with the force of a hurricane. The smile he gives me sets that hurricane on fire. He leans down and grabs both of my hands, pulling me into a standing position. Lucien’s lips connect with the skin on my knuckles and I lock my legs to keep them from giving out.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

As if sensing what I need to hear he speaks, “Your such and amazing friend. Thank you.” He pulls me into a quick hug that I don’t return. I remain slack in his arms as I fight the tears away, giving them the promise of release later as well. He pulls back and smiles one last time before heading back to the changing room.

I fall back to the couch lamely and my hand presses to my mouth, as if that would keep all the grief from spilling out.

I remember hearing later that Elain also wore a maroon dress that night.

“It's beautiful, wonderful, don't you ever change

Hey Lucien, why are people always leaving?

I think you and I should stay the same”

“I think I’m going to cut my hair,” Lucien states casually and the book that was inches from my face falls to my lap, completely forgotten.

“What?” I respond not being able to hide the pure shock. Lucien’s hair was my favorite feature and I know he loved it too.

“I’m just thinking of trying something different,” he shrugs and my mouth falls open at his blaśe attitude.

“But you love your hair?” The statement turned to a question as it left my mouth. I think over all the times he’s gushed about his hair, his products, styles, and accessories. He loves his hair more than a lot of females I’ve met.

Yeah, I do but-“ his hesitation tells me everything and I know exactly where this is coming from. An involuntary sigh leaves my lips as he goes on, “it’s been long for so long, hundreds of years at this point. I’m ready to try something new. Plus it’s hair, it’ll always grow back.”

My lips fell into a thin line and I looked away briefly while shaking my head. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the anger from shining through. Anger that he felt he hand to change for someone, anger that he was willing to do it, anger that it was for his ungrateful mate. I knew Elain didn’t ask or insinuate that he should cut his hair, but she made him feel like he should. That thought alone had my blood boiling.

“You don’t have to change anything,” I finally turned to him with pleading eyes. I hoped my convincing would be enough as I went on, “Just stay the same Lucien.”

“I’ll still be Lucien,” his words were softer, he knew I knew. He leaned in and placed a strong hand over mine, “I’ll always be your friend.”

Not having the strength for words, my eyes fell to the book in my lap as I just nodded.

The next time I saw him he had a low taper fade and I couldn’t help but recall a certain shadowsinger.

“They're dimming the street lights

You're perfect for me

Why aren't you here tonight?

I'm waiting alone now

So come on and come out

And pull me near

And shine, shine, shine”

I walk alone tugging my jacket tighter around my frame, every piece of exposed skin burns from the frigid air. Winter had come no holds barred, ice had taken the Sidra and snow coated everything. Winter in Velaris was breathtaking and I had no problem with the cold, but tonight it felt like my heart had froze.

I watched bitterly from the bridge as couple skated around the Sidra. Some held onto each other, helping whichever person had fallen. Some danced around each other, making lovely patterns in the ice. Some played a game of cat and mouse, skating in circles trying to catch each other. There were a plethora of couples on the bank that had taken to indulging in snowball fights, snow angles, and snowmen. The sun was sinking low in the sky and the dim fae lights cast a gentle glow across the city.

Love seemed to permeate the air, everywhere I looked I saw people happily enjoying the snow with their partners. People avoided coming near me, probably due to the resentful way I watched them. My heart ached to join, to enjoy the snow with the person I loved. But the person I loved wasn’t here.

Lucien had offered to take Elain dog sledding, much to everyone’s surprise she said yes. Her yes turned into multiple invitations so Lucien was spending the evening with most of the inner circle, being pulled through the mountains by groups of dogs. My frown deepened at the thought, my brain conjuring up images of all the fun he was having.

I was the one who told him about the activity, having mentioned going with my brother on many occasions as a child. My brother had since moved to Summer, opting to live with his mate and help run the apothecary she inherited from her mother. So I was alone, achingly alone.

A laugh pulled my attention, loud and boisterous, it echoed through the air. It was a man, his lover who was clearly a day court immigrant was using his powers to light up the snowflakes as they fell. The tiny flakes glowed as they swirled beautifully around the couple and they danced under it like no one was watching. The day court man pulled the other in suddenly and held his face, whispered something that earned him smile before sharing a passionate kiss.

Everything shone around them, the flakes falling, the piles of snow around them, and their lips as they met. The Velarian man pulled away first, smiling to his lover before pulling him in and dancing slowly as the glittering flakes continued to fall.

I looked away clutching my heart, I didn’t hide the tears or try to fight them. I let them fall. How I wished to be pulled in like that. How I wished to shine like that. How I wish it was all with him.

“Hey Lucien, I could give you 50 reasons

Why I should be the one you choose

And that girl, well, she’s beautiful

But would she write a song for you? (Ha-ha)”

Today was a good day, I didn’t feel like crying or raging while I sat across from Lucien. Today I was just numb, able to listen to Lucien rant and rave about the wonders of his mate. Our little friendly lunch day had only lasted 20 minutes before he brought her up.

“She’s just so beautiful,” he spoke wistfully with his eyes looking past me, imagining her. I just sipped the tea silently, ‘beautiful but inconsiderate, she doesn’t care to know you like I do.’

“I need to get this right. I have to fight for her.” I offer a small nod, ‘I’m the one fighting, your every insecurity, every fear, every tear. I fight for you everyday.’

“She’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” I have to actively hold back a scoff ‘Even though she doesn’t get your humor? Even though she won’t share a drink with you? Even though she won’t step out in the rain that you love to walk through? Even though she can’t stand the smell of the mirthroot you often indulge in? Even though-‘

“I’d do anything for her,” his words halted my thought and I just looked at him. I forced myself to smile as my soul screamed, ‘She wouldn’t even write a song for you’

“I can't help it if you look like an angel

Can't help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so

Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you”

I placed my six string on its stand and moved to the front of the sage, making a grateful gesture with my hand, I bowed lightly. I held out my hands for the rest of the band to take and when they moved forward to grab it we all did a full bow together. I smiled at the crowd as they cheered. Performing filled the aches that came from the crushing loneliness.

I had many friends once upon a time, ones that knew me backward and forward and cheered me on the loudest. All of that changed in the attack on Velaris. I was meant to meet them in the park that day, to enjoy the monthly group picnic we all carved time for. A fight with my neighbor over something I can’t remember now had me running late. I stepped outside only to be shoved to the ground and told to take cover, Hybren was brutally assaulting our peaceful city. I hid cowardly, tucked under a cabbage stall as I watched my city be torn to shreds. It was hours after the smoke cleared that I learned the park, our park, was one of the first places to be attacked. None of my friends were able to seek cover.

That was over a year ago, I was doing better. I finally left my apartment, I finally sang again, I finally decided to act like a person. Granted, it was still hard but I was at least functioning.

I had gotten used to the new cheers, they were loud but somehow still quiet compared to when my friends would flood the hall with whoops and yells. But tonight was different, there was loud whooping coming from the back and my eyes caught the culprit. It was a lean redheaded male with his hands cupped around his mouth to increase his volume. It felt like a fire had started in my heart, like a small flower had bloomed in a barren land. He was beautiful and he was all I saw, I was half convinced a spotlight was shining on him drowning everyone else in darkness.

He came to me when I was giving pleasantries to the regulars. It felt like the world around us was moving in slow motion when he spoke, “That last song was amazing.” I scanned the entirety of his gorgeous face, he looked like heaven personified. An angel taking fae form to come and drag me from my comfortable hell.

I forced myself to speak after a couple awkward beats of silence, “Thank you,” I bowed lightly, hiding my blush with my tipped head.

“You wrote it,” his tone was somewhere between a statement and a question and his eye shone with intrigue while the other whirled rapidly.

“Yea- yeah I did,” I couldn’t hide my smile as pride shone through my heart. This beautiful man liked my song.

“It was amazing, and your voice- perfect!”

The blush returned and I couldn’t help but beam, “Thank you…” I drew out the last word as I cocked an eyebrow.

“Lucien,” Lucien. In that moment I never wanted to say another name again. His large hand extended in between us and when I took it I felt pure electricity. Literally it seems as in that moment lightning struck outside, the light rain was slowly unraveling into a storm.

“I’m Y/n, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” I looked him over audaciously under the guise of trying to recognize him. I knew he was new in town, I would’ve remembered a face like that.

“Yea,” he smacked his hands together as he looked around the crowded hall, “I’m new around here.”

I smiled at that as I spoke boldly for the first time in over a year, “Well let me buy you a drink, as a welcome gift.” He smiled at that and I led him to a table to sit down.

One drink turned into six and soon we were laughing loudly in the now quiet hall. People had filtered out slowly over the last few hours and there were only a few tables left. The drinks help lower our guard and after some idle chit chat we shared our life stories as well as our most embarrassing ones. I felt an ease that had been evading me for so long, this Lucien was like magic, returning something I thought was lost.

He had mentioned his mate and that things weren’t going so well but if was so brief I almost forgot about it. I told him about my late parents, my brother’s departure, and the loss of my friends. He listened intently but didn’t respond pitifully, just a few tragic stories of his own.

After our last drink he offered to see me home which I gratefully accepted, stepping outside we were faced with the downpour we had been avoiding. I tried to tell him he didn’t have to walk me all the way to my apartment but he insisted, he also insisted on carrying my guitar case.

When we finally stepped out from under the awning I began to run only to be stopped by his hand around my wrist. Whipping around I yelled over the sound of the rain, “What are you doing?!”

“Oh come one!” He laughed, “Your not going to melt are you?”

It was my turn to laugh, “No.”

“Then let’s enjoy this,” his hand that was still around my wrist moved up to twirl me around earning a drunken giggle as I stumbled. “I love the rain.”

“Me too,” I breathed maybe a bit to softly for him to hear. That was never true before but seeing him with his head tilted back, smiling as water slipped down perfect cheekbones; I never loved anything more.

We danced some more, jumping around like children. He kicked a puddle in my direction earning a small scream, the devilish curve of his lips snapped something in me. His lips, I wanted nothing more than to grab his face and kiss him passionately. In my head it was playing out like some sappy romance but when I stepped towards him he took off laughing.

“Hey!” I yelled broken up by laughs as I took off after him. He was going into the opposite direction of my apartment but I didn’t tell him that.

“Can't help it if there's no one else

Mmm I can't help myself

Mmm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mm

Mmm-mm, mm-mm”

I strummed one last time after I finished humming. I didn’t have the nerve to look up so I just stared at my six string until I heard a small sniffle. Snapping my head up I saw Lucien sitting across from me, he was letting his tears fall freely as he stared.

He had asked me to a picnic and at first I hesitated, I never thought I would have another but the idea of doing it with him encouraged me to be brave. I decided to take advantage of that bravery when I grabbed my guitar on the way out.

Today was the day I would sing to Lucien, just Lucien, with the song I wrote for him. I spent weeks working on it, feeling it should reflect the perfection of the person it was for. I never thought I would be singing it to him, too afraid it would ruin this beautiful friendship. Looking in the mirror this morning, ready to send for Lucien and cancel on the picnic I whispered to myself, “Be brave.” I chanted it over and over in my head until I was walking out with my journal and guitar case.

“Lucien-“ I whispered, feeling my own eyes prickle at his brazen display of emotion.

“You wrote that song for me?” He whispered back, cutting me off from saying anything else. I just nodded slowly and in response he screwed his eyes shut forcing more tears out. When he opened them he was turning his head, staring at the fields of the park working on controlling his breaths. After a few minutes of him not saying anything I started to panic, my heart fell to the bottom of my stomach and my hands were clammy as they gripped my instrument.

I felt the impending heartbreak, he was trying to find a way to let me down gently, crying because he was about to lose a friend. “Lucien I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-“

“I was beautiful,” he cut me off again, his eyes finally coming to mine as they swam with something I couldn’t place. “I loved it. I loved all of it.” I just stared mouth opening and closing like a lame fish, not knowing what to say. He grabbed my hand, and pulled it close to him, “I’ve never had anyone write me a song before,” his other hand slipped to my cup my cheek and my heart jumped at the action. “I’m so glad it was you.”

I moved the instrument off my lap and dove to wrap my arm around his neck. I cried, letting all the emotions I’ve been holding in for years out. His arms wrapped around me tightly as he cried into my neck. We sat like that for a few minutes before he pulled back, both hands grabbing my cheeks as his forehead pressed to mine.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, the proximity causing his breath to fan across my face. I went to disagree but he just shook his head again before continuing, “No. I’ve been chasing a daydream- a fantasy- when everything I’ve ever wanted was right in front of me. It took me so long, too long, to see it and I’m sorry.”

I pulled back to look into his eyes and I couldn’t stop the tears, I let them fall freely and I probably looked crazy as I smiled widely at him. “Don’t apologize, I would do it for another two years. For you.”

He shook his head and a small chuckle slipped out, “Well now you don’t have too.” His smiled too before bringing his lips to mine.

The world exploded. Stars came to earth and burst, spraying everything with their technicolor dust. I pulled him to me tightly as I finally felt what I’ve been waiting-seemingly my whole life- for. Our lips moved in perfect sync and neither of us could help the chuckles and the smiles that slipped through.

When he finally pulled away he stared at me with a wide smile, “Think you could sing that song for me one more time?”

I laughed and kissed him once more before leaning back and grabbing my six string.

A/N: Okay this one was soooooo much fun to write, and my baby LUCIENNN he deserves a love like this. Taylor Swift is mother and every time I hear her songs I envision beautiful stories. So big shout out to my sister who told me to write for this song specifically.

If you made it this far I LOVE YOUUUU and my asks are always open for requests <3

Masterlist

[woncon]

➳ a stubborn heart

➶ bts x fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ you need to choose a future-husband at today's ball. Even if you love seven princes equally. Little do you know, the princes have a plan.

➴ genre: royalty au, fantasy, prince!bts, princess!reader, forbidden love, poly, fluff

: ̗̀➛ warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, but reader has some independence

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ thanks to @wonsheep for helping me fix my grammar mistakes and for giving me advice how to convert a whole story into another language precisely °♡̷•.

➳ bts masterlist | main masterlist

➴ a/n: i recommend listening to mdp's boy with luv orchestral cover while reading. i wrote this fic when i listened to it and it's such a masterpiece !

The princess and her father are descending a marble staircase covered with white carpets trimmed with gold. The participants of the ball all look up at and bow to the host. The man smiles and waves, while squeezing his child's properly held hand and whispering:

"Today you have to choose a prince for yourself. If you don't, I'll give your hand to Leopold."

You grit your teeth, trying not to grimace, still smiling softly. King Leopold is sixty-eight years old, he has had two wives. So far, has no successor, but rules a very rich empire not so far from your homeland. To keep peaceful relations, it would be a great deal if your dad made you marry him. But you would never be able to love that figure.

You were saved from this marriage - desired by your father only - by your mother, who convinced her husband to give you a chance of finding a man worthy of you, with whom you can spend your life happily.

This is your last opportunity to do so. Now, when all the possible princes have shown up, when they are waiting for you to give permission to propose.

"Do you understand me?"

You nod, yet you know you won't succeed, no matter how hard you try.

You already gave your heart away.

At the end of the stairs, the prince of the southern kingdom, Namjoon, whom you first met at the January ball, is waiting for you. The man is suave, wise, and has a library of magic in his mind and a seductive cavalcade of emotions in his heart.

He extends his hand and flashes a polite smile. He is donning an ice-blue coat and snow-white gloves. The king happily nods and hands you over to the young gentleman.

Namjoon leads you to the dance floor and doesn't say anything until you start dancing.

"Is this your last ball as an unmarried girl?" he asks in a whisper, probing.

"Yes, I'm afraid..." You let out a sad sigh. Namjoon turns you around and holds you in his arms again. As long as you look into his eyes, the thought of tomorrow is not so painful.

"Have you decided yet?" 

"You know I can't."

Ever since you had met him, you had a turn on the dance floor together at every ball. You're titled as friends officially. This way, you can share your doubts and fears, the truth with the man.

That you're in love. Into seven princes at once, and it breaks your heart to choose between them, because you know they all would love you back.

Namjoon nods in understanding and your heart pounds in your throat, waiting for what advice he has to give. Although your companion's lips tremble, they do not form words. He breathes a gentle kiss on your silk-covered palm, then leaves you with your own company.

And you find yourself trapped not only by confusion, but also by another prince. You had met the man in the golden clothes at a ball organized by your family, and you danced almost all night. Pans are very good at music and entertainment.

"Hoseok!" you gently caress his shoulder as you continue from where you and Namjoon left off.

"Did you miss me?" The man smiles playfully, his face already flushed. Warmth spreads in your chest. You try to mentally separate from the strangeness of saying goodbye to your previous partner.

"Of course."

"And would you like to marry me, so that you will never suffer from my absence again?"

"I wish it was that easy." Your upper bodies touch as you take a step closer, hand in hand, as required by the choreography.

"It is that easy," he nods encouragingly. "Didn't Namjoon tell you?"

"Tell me what?" You take the prince's outstretched arm and walk around him.

"If he didn't say anything, I won't, either. Taehyung will fill you in."

"Did you organize something?" A spark of hope flares up in you. "Hoseok, please, ‘fess up!"

But your partner only shakes his head with a sweetly insolent smile, and the dance is over. You bow to each other, Hoseok kisses your hand and leaves.

You look around frantically, wanting to find the aforementioned prince, so that you can get the answer from him. You don't see him, and you don't move, therefore you're asked for a dance again.

"May I?" This time the hand is covered by a green satin glove. The color of nature, charm, elves. And Seokjin is their prince-to-be-married. A beautiful, humorous gentleman who is perfectly worthy of your heart.

You’d be a fool to reject the attractive Seokjin's request, but at the same time, you still don't give up your search for Taehyung with a troubled gaze.

"Have you seen Taehyung?" You ask as you stand on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder. Seokjin furrows his expertly arched eyebrows.

"You wouldn’t just accept his ring instead of my emerald, would you?"

"According to Hoseok, he supposedly has something to say to me."

"Oh," he smiles alluringly. "He has something, indeed."

"If you know, please don't torment me anymore. Tell me!"

"I can tell you, but it comes at a price." He leans to your ear, whispering. "Marry me."

"I wish I could." Your eyelashes flutter longingly. You two link your fingers, go around each other, and Seokjin spins you elegantly around your axis.

When the song is over and Seokjin has said his proper goodbye, you start your journey and break through the crowd. There is no way that the prince of the sirens is not here.

Then you see him - the handsome man dressed in gray, but suddenly another individual grabs your waist, and turns you towards him.

"Princess, you're magnificent." Even the voice of King Leopold is wrinkled as he pronounces these words, glancing at his prospective bridge in appreciation.

Finally, the prince of the mermaids enters the scene, who showed you glowing stones in the depths of the water for the first time, and gave you one, so that you would never forget him. You love him so much that you wouldn’t be able to do that.

"Excuse me, are you free for a dance, princess?" Jimin puts on his most charming smile as he bows and offers a helping hand.

Leopold frowns, reluctantly pulling you closer to him.

"She is dancing with me."

"Did you ask her?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." Your heart calms as soon as the king lets you go, and your palm slips between the warm fingers belonging to Jimin. Mermaids don't wear gloves, only bracelets made of small shells that wrap around their middle fingers.

"You could thank me by accepting our offer. You would never have to worry about this man again."

"What offer, Jimin? So far none of you have said anything, you've only hinted at things. If you don't fill me in, I'm afraid I'll pass out from excitement."

"Taehyung wants to tell you." Jimin holds your hips tightly as your back bends towards the ground.

"Then why didn't he come to me yet?"

"As much as we'd all dance the night away with you, there are other princesses and countesses besides you, and they have good taste, just like you."

"Was that a compliment?"

"I tried."

You notice that you're not dancing in unison. Although all of Jimin's movements are impeccable, everything is done to the rhythm, you evade couples in the process, getting closer to Taehyung. 

Leopold - determined, in terms of his intentions - is getting closer and closer to you. The next dance form in the evening will be the first waltz. He certainly feels entitled to own your first waltz.

After distancing yourself from Jimin, you hustle in the opposite direction of where Leopold is. Yet a gentle touch lands on your covered wrist. You prepare to shake off the pushy, old king.

"Found you." It's not Leopold, but the prince of the wolves. Even though they have little dancing tradition, he waltzes perfectly and your first waltz at every single ball is his. His moves are dazzling. "May I have this dance?"

"You know it's always yours." You smile with relief as Jungkook pulls you close, and as you get lost in his brown eyes, the surrounding world and everyone in it falls apart. 

He is donning a well-tailored red shirt, his jet-black hair hanging slightly in his eyes, and his smile is sweet. He is the same age as you.

"Are you excited?"

"I can't wait to find out what this is all about."

"You don't know yet?" You shake your head. "Then I'll be watching closely to see your reaction. Maybe it’ll be a bit of an unsettling experience, but even sweeter."

"You are all sly, the way you keep secrets from me." 

Jungkook laughs. You step in front of and next to each other, in sync and harmony, as you fight the battle of words. 

When the song is over, Taehyung can finally take your hand in his. At first you're so excited that you can hardly speak.

"Tell me!" The prince tilts his head. "The plan. Please."

The siren smiles. He can move his lips very charmingly. Near his home, on the beach, he had kissed you. You had almost lost your mind from the beauty, from feeling as if you were the most beautiful woman in the whole world for Taehyung.

"This is your last ball," declares the prince, then he leans closer to murmur the tingly continuation "Because we're running away tonight."

"What?" You step aside, luckily not onto your partner's feet. 

But you can't pry for any more explanations at the moment, a short exchange of couples takes place, the male member of the couple dancing next to you grabbing you by the arm, making a circle before you could talk to Taehyung again.

"How?"

"All you need to do is go out to the balcony with Yoongi. He will fly you to his own land, where we will all gather, and from the moment you run away, you'll already be ours."

You'll be theirs. Your body goes numb at the thought that this is indeed possible: you don't have to choose, because you can have them all without your father inflicting a terrible fate on you.

"Hold me tight!" As if all the air had been squeezed out of your lungs. The surprise weighs heavily on your whole being. Euphoria and terror mingle in it - betrayal is being prepared, but for the sake of love.

"That is all I want." Taehyung hugs you, leads you and whispers sweet nothings about the future, begging you to agree. He doesn't know yet, that as soon as you heard the news, you were already in it. You just can't communicate this yet.

The dance is over.

"We’ll see each other again soon, right?" You smile, adjusting the silver seaweed crown on your partner's head, for whom this sparkling look and the hidden hint of the words are enough answers for his question. "Take me anywhere you want, because I am yours. And thank you for being mine."

"Forever." The boy leaves.

You close your eyes, sighing. You want to calm down, you don't want to seem suspicious. You can't screw up your only chance at actual happiness. You are beginning to like the fact that you found out the result of beating around the bush only now. If you had been aware of it before, it's not certain that you would have reached this part of the evening in such a peaceful state of being.

Finally, the prince of dragons, the seventh of your loves, approach you to dance at your last ball, but he notices something about your body.

"You're trembling..." He gently hugs your waist, stopping with you during the movement so that you move a little further on the floor.

Before your first dragon ball, you were afraid of the majestic but terrifying creatures. Until the prince led you into the flower maze and showed you his body covered in night gray scales.

His horns are still twisted towards the sky, but you don't feel even a slight bit of fear around him anymore. 

"Did something happen?"

"I think I need some air." Then you lean a little closer, clinging to the other's shoulder with a pleading look. "Take me out of here, please."

Yoongi flashes a satisfied, proud grin, which beautifully paints his often gloomy face. He grabs your waist, holding hands with you, spinning and turning to reach the balcony door. 

He opens it for you. The cool summer breeze caresses your bare upper arms, the liberating idea of ​​distance. Yoongi takes your hand again and guides you to the railing, where he stands up himself and helps you - his beloved - up. 

The depth is repulsive and attractive at the same time. Your legs are shaking.

"We're going to jump," he murmurs, then reassuringly adds: "Don't be afraid, I'll catch you."

"I trust you," you answer with a nod. 

Then you jump, shutting your eyes, without screaming, and in the next moment, you're on a strong dragon's back between the two wings. You cling to the horns. 

And you fly in the starlit night towards the land of dragons, freedom and love.