#i just found this song today and it just. i just feel it fits you know? it just does | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dilatorywriting · 10 months ago

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 4]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: It is very, incredibly important not to get attached to someone who will no doubt be leaving you high and dry to die stranded on an island any day now—be they man or fish. And you are definitely, definitely following that rule. For sure.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

The next morning, there was a conch shell set beside the familiar offering of half-mauled fish.

The insides were a shining, pearlescent pink—smooth and sleek. You picked it up curiously and turned it over in your palms. You’d never seen such a complete one before. Normally they were at least a bit dinged, cracked here or there along the thin edges. But this one was practically perfect. It sat heavy and warm in your palm, and you brushed a finger along the rough ridges.

You looked up and the Siren was lounging at the shoreline, waiting expectantly.

“Thank you,” you said. “It’s really pretty.”

He preened, the fins along the side of his head fluttering wide and colorful. You huffed, amused, and set the shell neatly at the forefront of your slowly accumulating corner of Things. You’d rebuilt the little shanty shelter that he’d had his seagull minions pick apart into useless nonsense that first day together, and it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep some of the sun off your shoulders at the height of the afternoon and would probably (maybe) hold up under a bit of rain. And that pleasantly cozy hovel of yours was where you’d been keeping your Stuff. The best sticks for poking at the fire, a rock that you’d found with a dip in the middle that made it sort of, almost a bowl if you squinted hard enough, bunches of drying beach grasses that you’d been tediously twining together into bits of rope and other nonsense. That sort of thing.

You placed the conch shell on the roof of it, prodding at it with the tips of your fingers until it sat just so. Like a figurehead on a ship. The crown jewel on your little mess of ferns and driftwood.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning back to the Siren. “Really brings the room together, huh?”

He puffed something under his breath and rolled those amethyst eyes of his, but there was a curl to his lips that looked far more amused than irritated.

You trudged back over and plopped beside him in the sand, the soft, low roll of the waves playing against your toes.

“Today feels like it’s going to be gross again,” you sighed, squinting up at the sun overhead in distaste. The big ball of glowing fire had barely crawled its way over the horizon and already it felt like the world was beginning to steam.

The Siren curled his claws around your ankle and tugged.

You arched a brow at him and he pushed his stupidly, perfectly shaped ones up right back. Like he was positive that he could out stink-face you with ease.

“It’s too early to swim,” you complained.

He tugged again.

“I can’t be in the water that long. You’re going to turn me into a prune.”

He said something back, mouth quirking in irritation, and you focused hard on the shape of it. His expression smoothed with that familiar, near-eerie perception of his and he was reaching forward to dig his free fingers into the sand at your hip.

‘Don’t know what that is.’

“It’s like a—” you frowned, waving your hand around your head. “Y’know. A fruit, that’s gone pruney. A prune.”

He looked at you like you were the dumbest human he’d ever met, and to be fair you very well could have been. You doubted it was an extensive list. And even if it was, you tended to have a proclivity for landing near the top of those illustrious sorts of rankings either way. At least that’s what your Captain saw fit to remind you ad nauseum.

So, like the very mature and intellectually competent person that you were, you kicked a mess of seawater right into his face. And then the Siren was screaming something silent and mad that had all the goosebumps on your arms popping up to say hello, and he was dragging you into the shallows ass first. You skidded along the wet sand and landed in the white surf with a laugh that you had to swallow real fast. Because if you drowned in three inches of water just because you couldn’t manage to not choke to death on a giggle fit, you’d never forgive yourself.

That night, you were lounging by the fire with a belly full of seared snapper and the Siren curled just as contentedly only a few feet away. His fins were splayed out across the damp sands, and you couldn’t help but compare them yet again to some of the finest, spun silks you’d ever seen. Even when they’d been pinched and shredded beneath the prickly teeth of your ropes, they’d still been lovely. But now that they were near-fully-healed, the spread of them was truly impressive.

And they were. Almost healed, that is. You could barely make out the trailing, scar-puckered lines of even the biggest tears anymore. Which was good! Great, even. Because that meant he’d be able to begin his journey home soon, didn’t it? And then at least one of you would manage to get away from this barren mess of rocks and sand.

There was a thump against your thighs that had you jolting back into focus, and you looked down to see a pair of familiar, gem-cut irises staring back in the dark.

The Siren was glaring up at you like there was a Purpose to his sudden loss of personal boundaries, and you blinked down at him in confusion. After a long moment of nothing but your silent gawking, his brow started to pinch and the skin around his eyes went tight with irritation. The fins along his ears rippled like a pissy cat raising its hackles in preparation to lunge, and you cautiously placed a hand against the edge of one. The grumpy fluttering stopped all at once, and if you were a touch more sun-poisoned you would say that those delicate, purple pins relaxed against your palm. Either way, you were clearly on the right track. So you let your fingers trail down towards his temples, and then to the salt-curled waves of his hair. His eyes slipped closed with a pleasant rumble that you could feel all along your skin, and you puffed in half-hearted irritation. Prickly, fussy, bastard man.

You weren’t really sure what he wanted, but for now the gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp seemed to do the trick. After a few cycles of lazy petting, you let your fingers catch in some of the softer, pale hair beneath his fins. It was a bit tangled—possibly from all that frilly posturing of his—and you carefully began picking apart the small knots there one by one. Once those were cleared away, you found yourself with little else to do but sit and play with the newly freed waves of lavender-tipped gold. You tucked one strand over the next, twisting the familiar pattern of a simple braid beneath your palms.

“Deuce grew his hair out at one point,” you chattered idly as you wove those silky locks together beneath your fingers. “That’s someone from my ship, by the way. Deuce. Anyways. He thought it’d make him look more rugged, or whatever. But he just ended up looking like some rogue, sea elf, and everyone was teasing him about how he’d gone for ‘windswept sailor’ and ended up with ‘foppish, little lordling.’ So he chopped it all off again.”

The Siren hummed, and you could feel it against the pads of your fingers.

“Which was a real shame,” you continued. “Because obviously I spent all that time learning to braid it, but also because it actually looked pretty nice—OUCH! What is your problem—"

You yanked your hand away from his sharp teeth and cradled your smarting fingers to your chest. Because the stupid fish had bitten you! Not hard, or anything. Just a little nip. But it’d still hurt. If less as a genuine injury and more as a sting to your pride.

The Siren spat something quick and harsh under his breath, turning up his nose like you’d been the one to err here, and not his wandering fangs.

“What?” you huffed, reaching out to flick at those purple fins in irritation. They twitched against the side of his head to smack at your fingers. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I not allowed to call anyone else pretty, your highness?”

The Siren rolled his eyes with a look that screamed ‘well, duh,’ and you forced your irritation to override the little, bursting bubble of fondness in your chest. So silly, so silly. This ridiculously primped fish of yours.

“Well, too bad,” you grouched, tugging at the end of that half-bound braid. “Just because you win ‘most attractive specimen on the island’ doesn’t mean you get to tell me to pretend I’m blind on top of being deaf. Let me have something, you prick.” And it wasn’t like it was much of a competition—seeing as the entrants were you, him, and the octopus (if you were being generous). Less of a contest and more of a merciful slaughter, perhaps. A kindness that you were even allowed to share the same stage at all.

The Siren muttered something low and amused under his breath, the amethyst in his irises twinkling with the crackling, orange light of the embers beside you. He reached up to twist his claws along your palm and snatch the hand he’d so viciously nipped—bringing it down to eyelevel to observe it more closely in the dim glow of the fire. There was a steady trickle of blood bubbling up along your thumb. Honestly, not much worse than a papercut. Nevertheless, his brow quirked at the soft trail of red and his gaze jumped up to yours with a pointed sort of curiosity.

“What were you expecting to happen? Humans are fragile,” you huffed. “At least more than you are. It’s not like I have scales or things to keep me safe.”

His mouth tucked down on a frown, and his tail swept irritably back and forth through the sand.

“What? It’s not like you didn’t know that,” you tried, awkward. Because he ate stupid, little flesh bags like you for breakfast. Surely he ought to be well aware that there wasn’t much there. Just skin, and muscle, and all the gory, gooey bits beneath. Just like how you knew what it felt like to bite into a piece of bread, or the crunch of an apple. Solid enough to survive in its own right, but something that would give beneath your teeth easily enough that calling it anything other than ‘delicate’ would have been a gross exaggeration.

He turned your palm this way and that, brow pinching down more and more with each fresh prick of crimson. His tail beat against the sand and his talons curled up and away from your skin—like he was worried just touching your fragile, little, egg-shell of an exterior would burst it.

“It’s fine,” you blurted out, still far too confuddled over his progressive panic. You pulled your hand away from his claws and popped your finger in your mouth. “See?” you garbled around the faint taste of copper. And then pulled it out with a pop to show him the slowing trickle. “Totally fine. Just a scratch.”

The Siren watched that little bubble of red with all the vigilance of a hawk eyeing its super, and then he was snatching your wrist back between his talons and dragging your hand down towards his own mouth. And oh my God, this was it. He’d finally decided to eat you after all. What was it? Had your oh-so-breakable human foibles finally pushed him over the edge? Or was it the blood? Were Sirens like sharks? Driven to hungry frenzy by the very scent of your—

There was a gentle, wet warmth along your skin and you blinked through your hysteric descent into adrenaline-manic-mania to see the Siren carefully cleaning the blood along your cut, just as you had only moments before—his tongue running smooth lines along the teeny wound until the sore skin was tingling and spotless. Granted, his endeavors were carried out with a great deal more delicacy than your earlier example of just shoving your whole finger into your mouth like a gremlin, but…

“Uhm—” you spluttered, too gobsmacked to come up with much else. “You—ah—you don’t have to—uh—"

The Siren grumped something at you that you could feel the shape of against your palm, and then returned to diligently wiping away each new drop as it appeared. It was a strange sort of sensation. Not bristly like a cat’s tongue, but certainly not all human. There was a sting to it—something hot and prickly. Poison, maybe? Or… something. Whatever it was, it had the hair on the back of your neck rising to attention and a shiver working along your shoulders. He kept at, silent and meticulous, until finally—finally—the bleeding slowed to a stop. He hummed and turned your palm this way and that, looking over the drying nick in your skin like an artist admiring their work.

Once he was content with whatever it was he’d been searching for, he tucked your hand back along the fins at the side of his head and butted up against your palm in as blatant of a ‘get back to work’ as you’d ever seen.

You swallowed the weird mess of something that had clawed its way up to tangle your tongue and dug your nails back against his scalp just to give yourself something to do other than—than—

“I hope you don’t expect me to do that for you,” you babbled, still far too out of your head with What In The Fuck Was That to do much but gawk like an absolute imbecile at the fact that he’d actually, factually, just—

The Siren rolled his eyes and reached over to drag the point of his talon along the sand at your hip.

‘No need. Already healed.’

You barked out a startled laugh and tugged at the ends of his hair. Your fingers caught at the edge of the braid you’d been weaving, loosening one of the twining sections, and he was hissing and swatting your hands back into place—poking around with his dark claws at the little end you’d fussed with until it was exactly how it had been. And then was dragging your hands back to the half-woven bulk of it with a pointed snarl that was clearly an order to finish what you started, human. Or else.

“Okay, okay, jeesh. I’m on it.”

The Siren trilled low and rumbling under his breath, and beneath the weight of your palm it almost felt like the steady drone of a cat’s purr. Warm, and pleasant, and comfortable in a way you couldn’t quite place. The thin strands of chain-twined-rope you’d woven to make his necklace pressed into your thighs with a scratchy tickle, and the pretty piece of sea glass at its end reflected the low light of the fire in a kaleidoscope of purples. His fins flicked against your fingers in a steady tempo, and when you gave in and pinched one he was rolling onto his side to shove the full weight of himself into your lap. You whined, and bitched, and complained about suffocation, and the stupid bastard of a fish just smacked his tail indignantly against the wet sand and draped over you even more.

Seven, he was such a nightmare. And you were going to miss him so, so much.

The next day passed in much the same way as the one before, and the day after that, and the day after that. And as pleasant as it was, you couldn’t help but feel like the headsman's axe was hanging over your neck. Always there—just a breadth away from falling.

You were fixing your Siren’s hair—redoing that braid of his that he insisted you tuck into his golden locks each and every morning—and normally he was quite responsive to your prattling. Flicking you with his fins and curling his tail along your ankles as you rambled. A silent, steady way of expressing his interest when you couldn’t hear his own responses in return. But today he was… distant. Amethyst eyes locked on the grand expanse of the ocean before you with a forlorn sort of expression on his face. The water was still and quiet today, with sunlight bouncing off the low, rolling waves in a pretty glimmer like the glow off his own, shining scales.

You trailed off, fingers falling from his finished braid to twist in your lap. And he just kept staring. Fins half-pricked along the side of his head and gaze heavy with focus.

You swallowed around the tightness in your chest and forced a smile. You hopped to your feet with a merry, little bounce and reached down to pat him on the shoulder.

“It seems like a nice day for a swim,” you said, and ignored how you could feel your nerves eating through the words. The wobble of them in your throat.

The Siren startled, as much as someone as grandly majestic as he could really do such a thing, and turned your way with a fondly exacerbated huff. He held up a hand, like he was expecting to drag you along with him into the lulling tide, and you shooed away his fingers. His brow pinched and his mouth turned down at the corners.

“For you, I mean,” you clarified. Like your blatant stepping away from the water’s edge wasn’t an obvious rejection in its own right. You turned back out towards the ocean beyond your little cove. “Your fins are doing a lot better, aren’t they? You could probably stretch them a bit, right? With how smooth the waters are today.”

He hummed, considerate, gaze skirting out to track your own. You swallowed around another ball of prickling ice in your throat and kept your grin buoyant and encouraging.

And then he turned back and offered you his hand again.

You frowned, confused. “I can’t follow you out there.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward to dig his talons into the damp sand.

‘I will swim with you.’

A pause, where he reached out to poke at your ankle with a pointed jab, jab, jab before finishing off with a—

‘Like always. Stupid.’

“Oh, yeah? Well, I won’t be so stupid when you ditch me halfway out and I drown in the riptide,” you harrumphed and his eyes narrowed grumpily.

He dragged his claws through the sand in short, angry jerks.

‘Won’t leave.’

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, swallowing stiffly again when that curl of awful something tightened behind your ribs. Hoping you could manage to choke it down. It sat heavy and unpleasant on the back of your tongue, like food gone off.

He underlined the ‘won’t’ with hard, pissy strokes.

“How about this,” you tried, because man oh man, you couldn’t do this. It was going to turn you into a ridiculously weepy, clingy mess if he kept talking (writing?) like this. “Prove that your fins work well enough to keep you up and alive before I risk it. And then we can go from there.”

The Siren huffed, sending the longer ends of his hair flipping out to the sides. But those gem-cut eyes of his kept flicking out to sea, and you could see the tip of his tail twitching back and forth—like he was itching to just leap forward and swim. The fins along his ears pricked up again, and then he was turning his nose up at you with some petulant comment under his breath and diving forward into the surf. He smacked his tail down with a splash!, drenching you in a mess of salt and seafoam. You spat, and hacked, and scrubbed the water from your eyes.

“Great way to prove you won’t try and drown me!” you called, hands cupped over your mouth and still spluttering around lingering saltwater. He reared up quick enough to swipe another wave your way before slipping back under, and you laughed through the spray of mist.

You settled yourself back in the sand, ankles crossed and chin pillowed in your knees, and watched the shadow of him dance just beneath the surface—starting in his familiar, looping circles before slowly venturing towards the mouth of the cove. He paced along the breakwater, pectoral fins cresting above the waves to glint bright and sleek in the light of the morning. And then he was darting forward with a great beat of his tail, spraying salt behind him as he dove towards the depths. You waited, anxious, as one moment faded to the next, and then—finally—there was a burst of frothing bubbles as he broke the surface with a great, curling leap—fins flared wide like the wings of a great bird and scales shining like jewels. It was nearly effortless, how he crested over the water. Diving back down in a mess of spitting mists with a flick of those long, trailing fins. He leapt up again, twisting in the air to crash down on his back and it almost looked like he was dancing. You could see the white flash of his grin even from all the way where you were sat. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so happy. Truly, a sight worthy of every grand tale you’d heard of the Sirens of the Sea.

He circled the mouth of the bay at least a dozen times more—fast, and wild, and breaching the waves in a burst of seafoam like he was trying to give every pod of dolphins out there a run for their money. Gradually, he began to lose steam, and those grand leaps melted into soft curls of his tail in the tide. And honestly, this was the part where you expected him to sink beneath the surface and glide off into the sunset. You braced yourself for it—for the moment that golden head of his would vanish beneath the water and never pop back up again—but instead he bobbed closer.

The Siren rolled in with the waves, panting, and flushed, and looking like someone coming off of a marathon. The muscles all along his torso were jittery with the strain of it, and he looked positively exhausted. Ecstatic beyond compare, but exhausted. He slipped up the damp shore with wobbly arms and came to a stop at your side before very gracelessly and rudely flopping the entirety of his sopping wet bulk onto your person and squashing you into the muck.

You squawked, rightfully indignant, and he just puffed against your neck and let his tail smack harder against your flailing legs.

“You’re going to crush me!” you wailed, shoving at his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and curled his fins along your hips—spreading himself out in the sands like your complaints held no merit whatsoever. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours, and the rabbit-fast thump-thump-thump of his heart. His skin was so warm. You could even feel the heat of it off his scales, which you hadn’t even thought was possible. Weren’t all fishy, scaly things supposed to be cold? Slimy, and gross, and like poking a wet blob of some unmentionable gunk scraped off the hull of a ship? Instead it was just… smooth. Glass-polish sleek and all warm muscle twined along your much, much smaller self.

You cleared your throat and turned to blow a frustrated raspberry against the sand.

“You do realize if you break all my bones that there isn’t going to be anyone to cook your stupid fish for you anymore.”

The Siren grumbled something against your shoulder that almost felt like the breathy puff of a laugh, and then he was collapsing all over again with a sigh that ruffled all the soft, short hairs at the nape of your neck. He scrubbed his cheek against the curve of your throat and you froze. Because it almost felt like—was he purring?

A deep, low, tremulous thing that you could feel rumbling against your skin. Like laying a hand against a mast strung too tight in a storm. Or maybe more like that one time you’d found a stray cat lounging in the sun by the docks—the sweet, old thing chirping softly beneath your palm in a lulling drone that tickled all the way up your arm.

The Siren’s purr wasn’t quite like either of those things, but perhaps a mix of the two. Dangerous but warm, powerful but cosseted. More predator than pet, and, well, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? And honestly, it was pretty nice. A language you could feel rather than hear, something just for you.

So you let yourself relax beneath the weight of his scaly bulk with a sigh that wasn’t quite as aggrieved as you would have liked, and his tail twisted another loop around your calves. His fins spread around the pair of you like a roll of fine silks, and while the texture wasn’t exactly soft, they were delicate enough not to feel suffocating or coarse either. Sleek and cool to the touch, and maybe the thickness of canvas. And there were just so many of them. Long, and trailing, and ruffled along the edges like the folds of a fine-boned fan. Your weird, purple blanket. If Riddle ever found out you’d been using a Siren as bed linens, he’d probably have an aneurism and scrub you in one of the scullery buckets for a week straight.

It was stupidly easy to fall asleep like that—wrapped up in lavender and plum, with the thrum of his heart next to yours. You napped all through the afternoon, and only woke up once the sun had set over the horizon.

You blinked awake to stars in the sky and a strange, scratchy sensation at your hip.

The Siren had apparently finished up whatever little bout of insanity that had made him think you’d be the perfect impromptu pillow. He hadn’t gone far—or even anywhere at all really—but he was propped up at the hip now instead of crushing you into the shore. His hand was resting just beneath the hem of your shirt, right over the origin of that bizarre, ticklish feeling. You blinked again to clear the salt and sleep-grit from your eyes, and realized it was his talons. Not ripping, or tearing, or rending. Just very, very carefully tracing a set of shapes into your skin. The same three symbols, over and over. Up, and down, and up, and curled.

He traced those shapes again, and again, and again. It was almost—you’d think it was letters, if not for the strange, swirling pop of them. Almost like the words he’d written in his own language all those days ago. His claw dragged along the skin there in the faintest prickle, leaving slowly growing streaks of red in their wake with each repetition. You opened your mouth, ready to ask him what exactly he was so painstakingly etching into your hip, and paused.

You’d realized over the past however many weeks you’d been marooned on this little crescent of sand and stone that maybe Sirens weren’t all you’d thought them to be. And that maybe you really didn’t know much about them at all. Something about the slow, cautious way that his claws were tracking along your skin made you think that this was another of those things that you just didn’t get. And going by how quiet he was, how stalwart and careful he was being not to let the knife-sharp curves of those talons dig too deep or do anything other than trace back and forth, and back and forth, it might be something… Something important. Or at the very least something that you had no business bothering him about.

Least of all if he’d be leaving any day now.

So you tossed your head back on a very loud, very dramatic yawn and used the ensuing stretch to gently swat his hands away.

He didn’t look put out by your ridiculous show of flopping around and scooching out of his grip, so that was good at least. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes, and he just kept staring. Kept to his place in the soft, wet sand not a foot away and eyes sharp in the lowlight of the evening.

“Well,” you chuffed on another yawn. “I’m starving. Dinner?”

The Siren rolled his eyes and dipped his chin in what could perhaps generously be classified as a nod. He reached up to flick at the mused braid in his hair with a pointed scowl—twisted and tangled from the salt of the sea and his earlier rambunctious tomfoolery. You sighed, overly put upon, and hefted your way to your feet.

“Yes, yes. And I’ll fix your stupid hair.”

Another nod, this one far more pleased, and the Siren settled himself neatly back into the low roll of the waves to watch you work.

The next morning when you clawed your way back into consciousness, the Siren was already awake and staring off into the distance.

The fins along his head were pricked in that same, focused way from before that made you think of a hound dog catching a scent. There was a strange sort of energy about him—not quite nervous, but certainly not anything comfortably at ease either. Unsettled. Jittery. The end of his tail flicked against the sand, and the fins along his spine curled and arched to an unsung tempo.

You followed the path of his leer and didn’t see much of anything yourself. Just an endless stretch of blue in all directions with the occasional white crack of a wave breaking along its surface.

His tail smacked at the muck again and you felt something tight and stupidly, stupidly selfish curl in your stomach.

You swallowed it down, just like you’d said you would. Because you’d meant it when you’d told him he deserved his happy ending, and you weren’t going to let the rotten, nervous thing growing in your guts stop him from having that. Not that you could even if you wanted to, but it was the principle.

“…are you going to swim again today?” you asked, and one of those fins swiveled in your direction. You came to stand at his side and curled your toes in the sand to keep yourself steady. “You should, you know. To make sure everything is really all fixed.”

The Siren tore his gaze away from the sea to cant his head at you with a sharp, suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

You held your hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. You want to be able to go home, don’t you? Back to your pod?”

He frowned, tight, but his glare flickered back out to the mouth of the bay like he couldn’t help himself.

After a long, long moment, he reached out and dug his claws into the sand.

‘Not safe yet.’

You arched a brow. “Oh, come on. I’m sure it’s fine. If anyone could make it back, it’d be you.”

He turned back your way and arched a brow, looking entirely unconvinced.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “Don’t get all modest now. You’re the most obnoxiously proud person I’ve ever met—fish or otherwise. I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.”

His brow pinched again, and there was something almost like worry sparking in those amethyst eyes of his.

“Look—” you said, reaching out to plant a palm against his shoulder. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always just come right back here, okay? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

You weren’t going to think about how nice that sounded, and how absolutely, bitterly selfish it was to hope that he’d turn right back around and head back. You weren’t.

The Siren’s brow pinched and he turned back to the open water, fins rippling against his sides and mouth twisted down at the corners.

You tugged at the braid in his hair.

“Don’t make me tie you back up again just so I can drag you out.”

He scoffed and spat something at you that looked like it was properly bitchy, and it had your lips quirking on a smirk. But prissiness or no, he’d started to let himself slip down against the surf, to lull deeper into the shallows and flare his fins at his sides for balance rather than a show of irritation.

You swallowed the last, lingering bite of dread at the back of your throat and offered him a winning smile.

The Siren huffed, and right before he sunk all the way into the water, he set his talons by your feet and scribbled—

‘Do not do anything stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off. “Sure.”

He underlined the ‘do not’ with a harsh sneer that could have made paint curl and the fiercest of generals quake in their boots, and you burst into peals of too-fond laughter.

“Okay, okay. I promise. Swear.”

He nodded, firm, and finally—finally—sunk beneath the surface with a grand, sweeping beat of his tail.

He circled the whole of the bay once, twice, thrice, and then set out past the breakwater with another of those bounding leaps that looked like something straight out of a painting.

You sat and watched the rolling waves until the sun was high in the sky, and then long after it had begun its creeping descent. Fat and sluggish over the horizon, dripping gold along the water like the strokes of a paintbrush. Until there were no shadows in the tide, no purple fins popping up from beneath the surface to smack at your ankles. There hadn’t been for hours now. The glint of his tail had slowly grown further and further away, and you’d been staring out at nothing for longer than not.

You stood with a sigh, legs wobbly and prickling with static as you stretched out of your scrunched up crouch.

You moved towards your little shanty hut and carefully readjusted the conch at its helm so that it sat just so. You stepped back with a soft nod and began your familiar trek towards the other side of the island, dutifully ignoring the stutter in your steps and that tight, miserable something twisting in your guts that you refused to name.

It was fine. He’d be home soon, surely. With his pod—his family. Which was what you’d wanted. And now… well, you had to go catch some dinner for you and your octopus. And there was no use waiting around.

You fucking sucked at fishing.

Which was a lesson learned with miserable, sopping wet consequences. You sat in front of your stupid fire, ringing out your stupid, soaked shirt, and sneezing in the chill of the night air. You’d never been responsible for hauling in food on The Rose Queen, and the Siren had basically been feeding your stranded ass from day one (whether intentional or otherwise). And so now here you were. Fishless, friendless, and freezing.

You sighed, miserable, and carefully made your way back to the familiar, little tidepool in the crags. You knelt down by the teeny pool of water there and the octopus inside was immediately scurrying for cover. When no tasty treats rained down overhead like the gift of some benevolent god, it slowly creeped its way out from beneath the stones with a trudging sort of paddling you wanted to call pouty.

“Sorry, little guy,” you huffed. “I don’t have anything for you today.”

You reached forward and the octopus panicked—trying to flee so fast that the poor thing wound up twisting itself in knots. Its stubby tentacles curled and flailed uselessly in its puddle, and you tutted in sympathy. You scooped the blob into your palms and immediately four sets of tentacles were curling around your fingers like a lifeline. Its little suckers pulled at your skin with sticky smacks as it tried to burrow away into your skin. And Sevens—OW! What the Hell!

“Chill, chill!” you squawked, trying to wrangle the thing more securely into your hands and stop it from pinching the flesh clear off your bones. “I’m just—would you—look, I don’t want to drop you, okay? So would you just—"

The octopus screamed, and you didn’t even think that was possible. You could feel the sharp, yowling vibrations of it all along your fingers and a few of the gulls nesting along the rocks took off into the air with a harried flurry of feathers and scrabbling claws. Their wings thwacked the back of your head and you swatted them away with a shrill scream of your own. Why did everything on this stupid island have to be a no good, dramatic, serenading, piece of shi—

“Fine!” you shrieked, feeling your molars ache with it. “Begone!”

And hurled the thing as far as you could over the edge of the rocky shore. It landed in the water with a lackluster plop of fat bubbles and immediately darted away like a prisoner fleeing captivity. And not, you know, the benevolent hand of the very lovely pirate who had been feeding and caring for it all these weeks.

You kicked angrily at a mess of pebbles, and then swore loud and furious when all it did was scuff up your toes and prick bruises into your heels.

You trudged back to your stupid, little hovel and collapsed miserably into the sand.

Here you were, trying to be noble, and kind, and give all of these ridiculous sea creatures the second chance at life that you would never have. And what did you get for it? An empty stomach, an aching heart, and gravel in your fucking feet—

“Well,” you chattered to yourself. Pleasantly poisonous and tendons jumping in your jaw, “I suppose at least it can’t get much worse.”

Which should have been the universe’s signal to do something truly petty. The skies opening overhead in a torrential downpour. Your little, stick home collapsing under the sheer weight of your patheticness. A crab scuttling up from the depths just to pinch your toes. Something like that.

Instead, there was a gentle breeze that tickled your cheeks and coaxed you into looking out over the horizon.

There was something there—something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were curled up suffering in the sand. You sniffled past angry tears and scrubbed the back of your hand over your nose, and then let that touch of wind guide you forward on wobbly legs. You had to climb all the way up the salt-slick rocks to get a good look at it. But there it was. Not too far at all actually.

A ship.

Large, and wooden, and cresting through the low rolling waves with all the ease of the monstrous vessel it looked to be. There was a silver insignia emblazoned on its side, but it was still too far away to make out the particulars. But you didn’t care, because it was a ship. An actual, factual ship.

You waved your hands high over your head and shouted at the top of your lungs.

And holy shit, holy shit—maybe the universe didn’t actually hate your poor guts. Maybe there’d be a happy ending to this whole thing after all.

You watched in the distance as an anchor dropped, and you had to stop yourself from tumbling off your rocky perch in your excitement. One of the small dinghies was lowered into the water and a gaggle of crew climbed down to man it. Slowly but surely, that little boat grew closer, and you sprinted down to the shoreline to meet it.

A man with short, dark hair climbed over the side and met you halfway. His eyes were soft, and brown, and kind, and he offered you a warm smile when you nearly tumbled straight into him in your haste—catching a hand around your arms and helping keep you upright.

He said something polite that you assumed was the usual sort of greeting and intrigue into how exactly you’d managed to find yourself in this state of affairs, and you hastily made to explain your situation as you always did.

‘Thank you—I can’t hear, but I can write and read—And I—’

Your train of thought cut off sharply, and your rambling explanations with it. The brunette was already nodding your way in sympathy and rattling off instructions to his crew. They were all decked out in slightly differing variations of the same, white and navy uniform. With golden buttons and sashes glinting in the low light and silver pendants pinned to their breast pockets. Your doe-eyed savior turned back your way and offered you his arm with another of those sap sweet smiles that lit his cheeks in a merry, rosy pink.

You hesitated, throat bobbing around something tight and cold that curdled along the back of your tongue.

Twining songbirds, wings frozen in flight as they soared up towards an endless sky.

The intricate, little emblem stared back at you proudly from its place on his chest, and you couldn’t help but think of the Siren who’d only just left your cove a few hours before.

‘Not safe,’ he’d demanded, dragging you away from the wreck so frantically you’d nearly drowned from it. ‘Not safe.’

The brunette’s smile wavered at your hesitance, and he wrapped his hand around yours to tug you into the boat.

You climbed in on wobbly legs, because—what else were you supposed to do? Stay stranded on this little patch of sand and stone until you starved to death or went mad from loneliness? Run? From sailors with swords on their belts as long as your arm? To hide on an island that you could traverse in its entirety in a half hour or less? You were always one to happily snatch up the weird and wonderful opportunities life could present to you and run them into the ground, but now… What else was there?

You were settled against one of the small, wooden benches and the brunette shucked off his jacket to drape over your shoulders and the silver songbirds glinted in the low light. He offered you another of those warm, warm smiles before turning to call an order to his crew.

You sighed, miserable, and slouched against the siding—fingers dangling down to brush along the surface of the water.

‘Do not do anything stupid,’ your Siren had said.

And you’d really been hoping to last more than twenty-four-freaking-hours before inevitably breaking that promise, but it seemed the universe really was out to get you after all.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

@novaloptr, @imlost-sendhelp, @matcha-berry @preciosayorgullosa @whoretaglia, @kookygirlwholikescookiesandcoke, @nanauedorian, @trixeraptops, @voxnipop, @starkling25, @thedum1, @horcrux-alchemist, @sleepykitty21, @apathicace, @instantregret101, @nekanecorvus, @looney-mori, @re-ducing, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @naughtybodypillow, @rendy-a, @carmen-404, @candy284, @thealiennamedterry, @their-name-is-fake, @huetolog, @glacticrose, @seraphinariddle, @rabioa, @sn00zl4x, @dreasimping, @jeidoreech, @ai-dev, @galaxyshine24-7, @fatally-incorrect, @juulranch, @camrastuff, @nocteetdie, @stargaryengirl, @warmsmilesandhugs, @01paige01

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 4

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kiwriteswords · 4 months ago

Note

Omg based on the gifs you reblogged with our man and his tight shirts, could you write a story (maybe christmas) where Reader keeps buying Hotch shirts that are too tight and hes like why? and has to explain lololol

He's a little bit older...got a bit of a dad bod [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: >1k|| AN: omg YES. YESS. YES. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. The title is a nod to Sabrina Carpenter's Christmas Song! xoxo

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, dad bod Hotch, Hotch x His Tight Button-Ups, Christmas Morning, Christmas activities, Gift Giving, Established Relationship, BAU Reader, mentions of weight changes/body changes, Jack is present, age-gap relationship

Summary: You really...really love Hotch in his tight button-ups, so you choose not to size up this Christmas for his gifts.

Aaron Hotchner woke early on Christmas morning, the subtle glow of winter light filtering through the curtains. The tree in the living room twinkled with lights, the gifts beneath it carefully wrapped. Hotch was always the first to rise, a habit from years of early morning cases. Today, though, it was the excitement that nudged him from sleep. This Christmas was special—not just because of the holiday, but because he was sharing it with you and Jack.

You stirred beside him, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you felt him shift. "Morning," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep but bright with the day's joy.

"Morning," Hotch replied, his voice low. He watched as you stretched, the corners of your eyes crinkling with a smile. "Ready to see what Santa brought?"

You laughed, the sound as warm as the blankets piled around you. "Only if I get coffee first."

Hotch grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed to start the coffee. By the time he returned with two steaming mugs, Jack was already rummaging through the stockings, his excitement palpable.

The morning passed in a flurry of ripped wrapping paper and joyful exclamations. Hotch couldn't help but feel a profound sense of contentment watching you and Jack. You had integrated into their lives seamlessly, bringing a lightness to their home that Hotch hadn't realized was missing.

When Jack finally settled down with his new video games, Hotch found you in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of the morning’s chaos. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Thank you for the shirts," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "But I think I might need a bigger size these days."

You turned in his arms, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh? And why is that?" you teased.

Hotch chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Well, it seems I've filled out a bit more than I used to." He wasn't ashamed of it—his body had changed, but he felt strong, healthy. And if the way your gaze lingered on him lately was any indication, you didn't seem to mind the changes either.

Your smile widened, and you reached up to trace the collar of his shirt, the fabric taut across his shoulders. "I've noticed," you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. "And I have to say, I really like it. The way your shirts fit now... it’s incredibly attractive."

Aaron Hotchner felt a familiar warmth spread through him, a warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee or the fire crackling in the living room. He was acutely aware of the changes in his body over the years. He wasn't as lean as he had been when Jack was born, or even when you first met him. Getting older, his fitness routine was not quite what it once was; he sometimes worried about how these changes were perceived, especially by someone younger like you.

"Yeah?" he asked, a part of him needing to hear more, to understand how you saw him.

You nodded, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. "Yeah. It suits you. It’s…really hot," you confessed, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Hotch laughed, the sound rich and full of genuine happiness. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he said, and then, softer, "because there's no one else's opinion I care about more than yours."

You blushed at his words, your eyes shining with affection. "Good," you said simply. Then, with a teasing poke to his chest, you added, "Maybe Santa should bring you some more of those shirts next year."

Hotch pretended to consider it, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Only if Santa agrees to keep making comments on how hot they look on me."

"You have no idea," you laughed, leaning in closer. "Sometimes, at work, it's honestly a little distracting." Your voice dropped to a playful whisper, "There are meetings where I'm definitely more focused on your...shirt situation than the case briefings."

Hotch's eyebrows rose, his lips curving into a smirk at your confession. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone equally teasing.

"Absolutely," you affirmed with a nod. "Especially when you're up there giving a profile, all serious and command-mode with your suit jacket off... It’s a lot to handle," you grinned, poking him again gently.

Hotch's laughter filled the kitchen, deep and heartfelt. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. "Well, I'll have to make sure take the jacket off more often then, just to keep things interesting," he quipped.

"I'd appreciate that," you said, your eyes alight with mischief. "Maybe I'll even start a personal rating system for them. You know, to provide feedback."

"Looking forward to your reviews," Hotch replied, the warmth in his voice reflecting the warmth in his chest. This easy banter, the shared smiles, they made everything feel right.

This Christmas, like all the moments since you'd joined his life, felt complete. Hotch knew there would be challenges ahead, cases to solve, and long nights. But with you by his side, sharing whispers and stolen kisses between cups of coffee and Christmas lights, he felt ready for anything.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfictionc #criminal minds imagine #criminalminds #aaronhotchner #Aaron Hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds fluff #christmas

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rafeskiss · 5 months ago

Text

juno ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

word count: 980

summary: boat days with rafey make you so fucking horny<333 based on the song ‘juno’ by sabrina carpenter

warnings: no actual smut, use of y/n, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, probably more i dont fucking know

authors note: IM BAAAACK! bringing back the short n’ sweet inspired rafe fics

boat days with rafe were your favorite days. you didn’t have to be sexual with rafe to have fun together, and you guys had your own way of showing appreciation— which, of course, included sex some days, but you also just got each other.

your love for each other was showcased best on the druthers on hot and sticky summer afternoons. you’d be tanning and feel a lack of warmth for a second, opening your eyes to see rafe towering over you, blocking the sun. a fruity seltzer in his hand, he’d hand it to you and you’d continue tanning. you didn’t ever have to tell him what you were thinking, he just gets it.

or he’d let you apply sunscreen on him— this was a rarity. he claimed he didn’t care if he got burnt or not, and you’d always reply with something along the lines of ‘you will care when you get skin cancer in 20 years!’ so you’d stand on your tippy toes, rubbing the white substance on his face, chest, back, arms, and legs until you saw fit. this was also a perfect excuse to feel him up. you hated his father, ward, for giving him life-long daddy issues but this was one of the only times you’d thank him. God bless his dad’s genetics, because rafe cameron is one sight to see and feel under the north carolina heat. beads of sweat dotting his face and chest, small freckles appearing on his nose and how gorgeous he looked driving the boat.

today was one of those days; you in a tiny pink bikini and rafe looking particularly fuckable edible hot pretty. you watched as he steered the boat towards wherever the hell he was taking you, his grip on the steering wheel showing off his toned, muscular arms. you just about melted in your sun chair rafe layed out for you.

it was days like this where you seemed to be so in love you’d do just about anything for him. rafe was too busy steering the boat, leaving you alone in your thoughts as you soaked up the vitamin d. you often thought about your future with rafe, and rafe doesn’t talk about the future rarely ever, but you knew he’d want your touch for life. he hasn’t and probably won’t ever come out and directly say he wants to spend forever with you, but his words always allude to it.

you never take the things he says during sex seriously; he’s always grunting about putting a baby in you or telling you to never ever leave him— you wouldn’t dare— but you wonder if he really truly means it. however, this doesn’t stop you from hinting at the fact you would like this all to become a reality. he’d be picking you up to go to dinner and you’d do a little twirl, showing off your dress. he’d tell you you look great, just like always, and you’d be like ‘well, there’s actually one thing missing…’ rafe would grumble something like ‘fuck are you talkin’ bout, kid? you’re fully dressed.’ and you’d stick your left hand out to him, showing him your naked ring finger. ‘missing a rock right there.’ and he’d roll his eyes and tell you to get in the damn truck.

you hopped off the tanning chair and found your way to a mini fridge that’s always stocked with various drinks. you opted for a twisted tea and you grabbed rafe a beer. you giddily walked to find rafe who was standing by the steering wheel, one hand on it and the other glancing down at his phone.

“here ya go,” you smiled and handed him the glass bottle.

“thanks, baby.” he said while placing a kiss to your temple, turning his phone off.

you looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing the lack of a wedding ring on his hand. you frown, “looks so boring right here, right?” you look up at him, your finger pointing to his ring finger.

“can you just wait?” he scolded.

“i just think this day would be even more perfect with a mini us running around!” you declared, looking around the boat imagining a tiny rafe or a tiny you waddling all over.

he rolled his eyes and continued steering the boat.

“like, one of me is cute but two though?”

rafe laughed, “are you ovulating or something? holy shit,”

you smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, “can’t help it.”

“jus’… gimme time, baby.” he muttered before taking a sip of his beer.

so maybe having a baby at 19 wasn’t the best idea. but there were far worse things you could be doing with your life! rafe has enough money to support you and the baby until the end of time, including your retail therapy and regular therapy, so what is so wrong with that?

“give me one good reason why we can’t have a baby right now.” you said, crossing your arms which only made rafe take this conversation less serious because his eyes were immediately drawn to your tits.

rafe smirked, “shit, i dunno. i will say, your tits would be massive with a little baby in you.”

you gasped, “so you do wanna have a baby!”

“never said that.” he sniffed.

rolling your eyes you said, “whatever. god forbid i want a future with you!” you stormed off leaving rafe behind you.

of course, rafe didn’t want to hurt your feelings so he apologized very thoroughly later. he made sure to tell you that he did want a future with you, but he wants you to enjoy your young adulthood before potentially wrecking your life and freedom by bringing a baby into the world. in response to this, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“see, who needs a fucking baby when we got you around?” he said teasingly.

TAGLIST (reply to my tag list post to be added)

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @neediestpuppy @ethanthequeefqueen @maybankslover @pankowblues @drewsphswife @wearemadeofstardust0

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81folklore · 8 months ago

Text

robin - LECLERC

pairings charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader (fc: gigi hadid + pinterest)

summary fans get a look at charles’ family

warnings a baby + pregnancy (the baby is the entire plot point and one pregnancy mention) poorly translated french, some taylor swift songs are used as readers songs. HUGE TIMESKIPS (sorry lol)

notes we are BACK!! for the time being at least,, sorry for being gone again😣 also im using gigi again because i had this one specific photo in mind of her pregnant!!

notes 2 kind of short but i want to try and gain some more motivation buuuut in my absence from writing ive created a rec blog so i can show you all my favorite works by all the incredible writers on here! @81folklore-library

masterlist

yourusername • may 2020

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,283,693 others

(im)patiently waiting to meet you tiger 🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc you are glowing mama🌟

yourusername charlie🥹

lewishamilton cant wait to meet the little one, you’re doing amazing yn!

yourusername thank you lewis💜

user44 you are gorgeous omg

user23 i can’t believe charles is going to be a dad soon

user2 it feels like its flown by

user17 i love that they call their baby tiger☹️

user6 me too!! i hope it sticks as a nickname

arthur_leclerc lunch again soon?

yourusername of course art! let me know when🤍

yourusername • january 2021

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and 3,930,519 others

our little tiger blessed our lives a few months ago and we couldnt feel more overjoyed to have her. we want to thank those around us for their continued support during our first months of parenthood

tiger, we cant wait you grow into a beautiful young girl and we are already so proud of you🐯🩵

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

charles_leclerc so happy i get to be a dad with you🩵

charles_leclerc i love you so much im so proud of you

yourusername i love you charlie, thank you for everything

lorenzotl toi et charlie êtes de merveilleux parents 🩷🩷 (translation you and charlie are wonderful parents)

yourusername merci! revenez bientôt, vous êtes toujours le bienvenu! (translation thank you! come back soon, you are always welcome!

user55 theyre parents🥹🥹

user80 oh im sobbing this is so lovely😭😭

user17 they still call her tiger☹️☹️

user49 im confused is that the babies name?

user17 no they just call her tiger in public, we dont know her name! they started calling her tiger when they found out they were going to be parents and it seems to have stuck!!

liked by yourusername

user32 i was listening to never grow up when i saw this post🥹🥹

user47 congratulations guys!!

yourusername • september 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 5,291,649 others

happy birthday little tiger, it has been a joy to watch you grow into the wonderful girl that you are (please stop mama cant handle you getting bigger🥹)

you are so incredibly loved and i hope you feel that every day, i hope you have a wonderful day today and everyday baby!

happy birthday love mama and papa🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc happy birthday angel, we love you🐯

olliebearman happy birthday tiger!!

yourusername see you soon darling🩷

lewishamilton i can’t believe she is already four🥹💜

yourusername time really flies by🥹

user67 SHES SO BIG NOW😭

user5 right?! i remember when yn posted her on charles back☹️

user52 these pictures are so cute oh my god😭😭☹️☹️

user60 actually my favorite family ever🥹

user21 i feel so emotional knowing ive watched this family grow

user19 is anyone else sad charles hasnt posted the annual story?

user37 theres no way he just stops,, she has so many more songs☹️

user66 wait im new what are we talking about?

user37 because charles and yn write the birthday captions together, charles started posting a picture of tiger with a song yn has written about children or babies etc (example: last year it was never grow up!) and she has so many more songs that would fit but he hasnt made one this year :(

yourusername & charles_leclerc • september 2024

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 6,280,740 others

tiger its your birthday surprise; Robin out now🐯

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername📌 ps robin is not tigers name🩵

charles_leclerc thank you for letting me on a song🫶

yourusername always baby

charles_leclerc we love you tiger🐯

charles_leclerc added to their story

[song used: Robin by yn text: way to go tiger🐯🩵]

seen by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,279,940 others

replies are turned off

twitter

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #charles leclerc insta au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc social media au #f1 insta au #charles leclerc smau

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rosenclaws · 1 month ago

Text

I See the Light || DOFP!Logan x Reader

Summary: Logan saved the future but now he doesn't feel like he fits into the mansion anymore. He doesn't know what he needs but he just knows he needs a break. So Charles sends him on a mission that changes his whole world.

warnings: fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), abusive parents (Not descriptive), injury, reader deals with a jerk and logan saves the day, swearing

wc: 6k

a/n: Sooo I might have fucked around and wrote 6k words today. This is my entry for @princessanglophile birthday writing challenge! I was given dofp logan and I see the Light from Tangled. I was so so excited to get this song as its one of my favorite disney songs and I'm so happy that I was able to finally get the story that's been in my head in writing. This fic very very loosely follows the plot of tangled but only in a few ways. I really hope it lives up to the song and I was able to do it justice. Enjoy!!

If there was one word to describe how Logan felt after coming back from 1973. It would be lost. He wouldn't say it himself, in fact he'd insist he was just fine. I mean the plan worked, he went back and he saved everyone. Who wouldn't be thrilled to come back to a peaceful world?

But in doing so Logan sacrificed everything. His friends, his family, they don't remember him.

They only know this timeline version of Logan. So now he's a stranger to them and they're strangers to him. He wakes up and teaches his classes but he doesn't know these students.

He sees Rouge and Bobby and he can't help but think of the timeline where Rogue took the cure and lost all her powers. Seeing Kitty all grown up and teaching the new generation of mutants. Storm being the leader he always knew she could be. And of course. Jean. She was alive in this world and so was Scott. It had been years since he saw them.

He doesn't know how to feel. He's found and lost those closest to him. After all of this, he just needs a break. To find himself and learn to stop fighting. He doesn't have to anymore but the rest of him hasn't caught up with that sentiment.

"Logan, I have a mission for you." Charles has called him into his office. He can sense Logan's unease and despite helping him regain some memory from this timeline he knows that Logan is struggling.

"While this world is not as violent as you remember, there are a few anti mutant sentiments still lingering throughout the country." He hands Logan manilla folder.

"She's been raised her whole life in hiding. Her parents forced her at a young age. You need to find her and bring her back.

"And exactly how am I going to do that? If she's in hiding?" Logan asks, flipping through the little information he's been giving.

"Don't tell me you've lost your touch." Charles says with a smirk. Logan shuts the folder and tosses it back at Charles.

"Give me a week."

"This will be good for you Logan. Be patient with her." Logan nods and turns his back to leave.

"One more thing, Take your time Logan." Charles gives him a look that Logan doesn't quite understand and just nods.

After throwing a few things into a backpack he slings it over his shoulder and silently weaves through the mansion. He sees a few people in the kitchen, laughing over cups of coffee and stories of their students. His heart tugs as he looks away, he has a mission to complete.

He doesn't even say goodbye.

Swiping Scotts keys he hops into one of the many cars in the garage. The only information Charles really had was that she was located across the country.

For days Logan drives through the mountains and plains of America. It's a little weird to be honest. He remembers the world turning to a complete wasteland. Nothing but death and destruction. He never once looked at a field of grass while driving down the interstate and thought anything but how boring the view was. Now things are a little different.

After hopping from shitty motels and diners with sweet waitresses and heart stopping food he finally makes it to where Charles said you were. It's a small beach down on the coast of California. Of all the places to be trapped this isn't the worst he thinks as he parks his car at some motel.

The front desk worker barely paid attention as he handed Logan the keys to his room and a brochure of everything the town had to offer. Which was two restaurants and the beach. Realistically he knows you wouldn't be anywhere in town. Too many people. Probably somewhere on the outskirts of town. He slips into a bar, ordering a glass of whiskey and pokes around. Asking the already drunk locals about the weird parts of town. Any strange people.

After some teeth pulling conversations with a woman who was clearly trying to get in his pants, he manages to get information about this house on top of a hill about five miles out of town. How the kids think it's haunted and only a lone woman lives there. The windows are boarded and a wire fence blocks any trespassers.

Bingo.

Apparently the woman leaves every three days at dawn and doesn't return until night and luckily for him she should be leaving tomorrow morning.

With a cigar in hand Logan stares out at the ocean, he doesn't know what time it is but he knows he can't sleep. His dreams are still plagued with watching his friends die. He just can't shake them off, even if that's not how things are anymore.

At the first sight of light peeking over the horizon he hops into his car and drives towards the lone cabin. He ditches the car about two miles in and walks the rest of the way. The sky is painted pinks and purples as he reaches the small cabin.

He catches two unfamiliar scents as he nears. One makes his eyes water, it's rotten. The other is much sweeter, like fresh flowers and honey. The door opens and Logan jumps behind a tree. The sound of footsteps and a car ring loud in his ears. He moves like an animal as he blends himself in with the foliage.

Once the car is gone he hurries past the fence. Cutting through it with ease and making his way into the cabin. He doesn't see anything as he enters. The lights are turned off and everything seems in order.

"Hello?" He calls into the dark house. His nose twitches as that floral scent invades his nose again. He closes his eyes and his hearing zones in on a heartbeat. It's beating faster and faster.

His eyes snap open and he turns around, grabbing your wrist that was inches above his back. In your hand was a crude excuse for a knife. Your eyes are wide and full of fear, your hands trembling in his grasp.

"There you are kid," Logan plucks the knife from hand with no fight and tosses it onto the counter.

"W-Who are you?" You try and tug your wrist away but he's too strong.

"Logan. Now I'm here to get you out of this place." He expects this, fear or uncertainty is common. But you he's never had someone try and attack him before. He wonders what your powers are.

"No." You say making Logan raise an eyebrow.

"I can't leave. She said they'd hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He lets go of your wrist and you slink back to the corner of the room. He wonders just want your mother has told you. He sighs and sits down on one of the dining room chairs.

The look on his face makes you shiver. He's so. Intense. No smile, no soft words. Like he could careless if you went with him or not.

"Why did they send you?" You ask and Logan just shrugs.

"I'm a people person." He says in a deadpan voice. You don't say anything back and Logan slowly lets his so called "angry" face shift to something else. You're probably scared and he's not great with people but he does want to help.

"Look I don't know what she told you, but I can promise that you don't deserve to be locked up from the world." He says and you lower your head.

"I know you're scared, but I'm just like you." He unsheathes his claws making you jump.

"There's this place, a home for people like us where we can be safe and you can learn to control whatever powers you have." You look down at your hands. Still uncertain about all of this.

Your mother had kept you here your whole life, forcing you to never use your powers. Telling you that the world hates what you are and to be lucky she hasn't fed you to the wolves already. Honestly you don't know why she keeps you around, but its true. You can't protect yourself from whatever is out there.

But this man, Logan. He seems like he's taken care of himself just fine. Not a single scratch on him. Maybe he can protect you too.

Your heart has longed for so much more than whatever this life has been so far. The books you read don't hold a candle to the real thing. Could he really take you to a place that's safe.

"Come with me and if you don't want it, if you don't like it. I'll take you back home." He offers, seeing the swirling emotions in your eyes.

"Promise?" You ask softly.

"Promise." Logan sticks his hand out. You glance down at it. It feels too good to be true but this could be your chance to leave this house, to be yourself. But your mother? Honestly, she'd be happy with you gone. Would she come after you or rejoice that her one problem is gone?

Guess you'll have to find out. You reach out and take Logan's hand, hoping you didn't just make a big mistake.

Logan doesn't waste much time heading back home. He takes you back to the motel and tells you to wait in the car while he packs his stuff and checks you. You've never been in a car before. Of course you knew what they were but being inside one was different.

Curiosity gets the best of you as you open every compartment and press every button you can see. You press something the car makes a noise making you jump. You press it again and again before Logan pulls the door open.

"Hey, quit fucking with the horn." He grumbles as gets into the drivers seat.

"Sorry." You apologize, putting your hands in your lap and looking down at them.

You're silent for a while. Not moving, not speaking a word. Logan keeps sneaking glances at you, guilt slowly building as you don't even look out the window.

When Charles said you were sheltered, he didn't realize you were this sheltered. He thinks back to what Charles said before he left. Patience. He's still working on that one.

"I didn't mean to snap at you." Logan says making you look up at him. Your head tilting in confusion.

"You really never been in a car?" He asks as he turns his attention back to the road.

"No, my parents wouldn't let me. I had to stay inside. I couldn't leave." You say quietly.

"You were pressing on the horn, you don't want to use it often. Only to get someone's attention or when someone's being a jackass." You nod your head, watching the other cars driving.

Suddenly Logan swears as a car cuts too close in front of him. He slams his hand on the horn and swerves around the car. He speeds up, glaring at the driver and throwing up his claws in a threatening manner.

"Like that?" You ask. Logan looks at you and lets out a small laugh.

"Yeah, like that."

He drives a little while longer before stopping for gas. He hands you a twenty and tells you to grab some snacks as he fiddles with the machine. You're too shy to tell him you've never been in a store before so you take the money and head in.

It's like a wonderland of sweets and food. You're mom didn't let you have anything like this. In fact she never even told you about half the things on the shelves. You had read about candy and soda in the books she'd bring you but that was it.

You grab anything you can carry. You're too wrapped up in the overwhelming options that you don't see the man in front of you. You bump into him and send both of your things to the ground. The drink in his hand spilling onto his shirt.

"I'm so sorry!" You squeak as you the man turns around and glares at you.

"Watch where you're fucking going." He snaps making your eyes widen.

You reach down and try to pick up the fallen items but he grabs onto your wrist. This isn't the same as when Logan did it. Logan was firm but gentle while this man was angry.

"You're hurting me." You try tugging yourself free but its no use. The mans grip tightens on your wrist. Suddenly the man is ripped away from you and thrown onto the ground.

"Get the fuck off her!" Logan growls. He stands tall above the man, a pissed off look on his face.

"She ran into me!" The man scrambles to his feet, trying to puff his chest out to stand toe to toe with Logan but it's a feeble attempt.

"Stupid bitch." Logan grabs onto his shirt and slams him into the shelf, uncaring if things fall.

"Listen here bub, you get the fuck out of here and take your cheap gas station coffee with you." Logan lets go of him and grabs the coffee cup.

Slamming it into his chest with force. You watch, afraid to even move as Logan pushes the man out of his way. He scrambles out the door, yelling something that you can't quite understand. Logan turns to you and your eyes start to well with tears.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to cause all this I-"

"Hey, stop crying." Logan grabs your arms and waits for you to calm down. "It was an accident. That asshole isn't worth crying over alright?" He grabs all he fallen snacks and brings them to the counter.

The poor cashier couldn't even look Logan in the eye as he pays. Too afraid Logan might beat him up too. He hands you the bag of snacks and grabs a few cigars too.

"You really like sugar don't you?" He jokes as he sees the amount of sugary items in the bag.

"I've never had it before." You admit as you dig through the bag and find something small.

Chocolate.

You dreamed of tasting it for the first time. You rip open the wrapper and bite into it. Wolfing it down in seconds. Logan chuckles, seeing the brightness in your eyes as you taste it for the first time.

"Pretty good huh sweetheart." He reaches over and takes your chin in his hand.

You drop whatever's in your hand, a sudden feeling of...you don't what to call it. Your stomach flutters as he wipes some chocolate off the side of your lips. Your heart starts to beat faster when you see him smile, his eyes turning soft. Palms sweaty and for some reason you don't think you can even look at him right now.

He lets go of you and turns back to the road without a second thought, like he didn't just cause this kind of reaction in you. You hug the bag of sweets and stare out at the road. Trying to calm your beating heart.

Night falls and Logan is still driving, he could drive for a while if he had to but he sees you asleep off out of the corner of his eye. He pulls of the highway and into the parking lot of a motel. He leaves you asleep in the passenger seat reluctantly, checking every couple seconds as he books a room.

When he comes back you're still sound asleep. You look so peaceful, a smile on your face and he wonders what you're dreaming about.

Candy wrappers sit on the floor the car but he just leaves them be. He did have to cut you off after about three kit kats, not wanting you to give yourself a stomach ache.

Seeing someone try flavored chips and processed candy for the first time was amusing. Seeing your face light up with each bite. You were just so, optimistic. He doesn't really know how. He expected you to be angry, jaded, afraid and meek from being locked away for so long. But instead you're full of wonder and curiosity.

You almost gave him a heart attack when you saw a cow for the first time. You slammed your hands on the window and you screamed in excitement. Pictures didn't do them justice, they were just too cute. Things that other people take for granted every day, you saw as new and wonderful.

He opens the car door and scoops you up in arms. Trying not to wake you as he makes his way into the room. Placing you on one of the beds.

"Hm?" You mumble as you sit up, the jostling having woken you.

"Sorry, tried not to wake you. We're stopping for the night go back to sleep." Logan whispers, laying a blanket over you.

"Okay..." Logan takes a sharp breath when he sees your wrist. The one that man from earlier had grabbed on to. You paid no mind to it as you roll over on your side, snuggling the warm blanket.

"Hey, we need to get this checked out." He gently grabs your wrist but you shoo him away.

"M'fine, it doesn't hurt." You say but he doesn't budge.

"Still, it looks like a nasty bruise is forming." You bat away his hand and cover your wrist with your other hand. Logan's jaw drops as your hair starts to glow. He scrambles back as the it shines brightly and then slowly fades away. When you move your hand your wrist is completely back to normal. No bruising to be seen.

"What the?" He looks at you in shock.

"My powers, I don't really know why but the hair glow seems to be apart of it." You rest your head back into the pillows.

"Why would your parents ever want you to hide this?" He asks in disbelief, your powers weren't ones of destruction but of healing.

A sad looks appears on your face and he doesn't ask any more questions. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Get some rest, we'll keep going in the morning." Your eyes close and sleep comes quicker than it has in a long time, Logan's presence lulling you into a feeling of safety.

The morning light shines right in your eyes as you wake to the sound of snoring. You groan as you roll over onto your back. As the world comes into focus you expect to find yourself staring at the cold wood ceiling you've woken up to every day of your life. But you don't.

You shoot straight up in bed seeing the motel décor and Logan asleep on his bed. He's sprawled out on his stomach, shirtless. His hair is still somehow in the same shape as it always sits. The gray streak in his hair matches with the slight graying of his beard. You feel that fluttering sensation in your stomach as you look at him. You want to look away but you can't. His face has that grumpy look on it, even in his sleep. You giggle as you see some drool on his pillow. You lay back down on your pillow, turning to face Logan. Is it creepy to watch someone sleep? Probably, but you wouldn't mind if Logan watched you sleep.

The only man you had ever known before was your father. When he left your mother grew bitter and angry. Neither of them liked your mutant powers but your mother really hated them. You never really understood why. You could help so many people but she refused.

She would tell you that people lead to nothing but trouble. That everyone was cruel and selfish. That love of any kind wasn't real. But some nights you'd sneak into her study and take on of the many books on the shelves.

Stories of romance , adventure, a knight in shining armor. Despite what your mother said to you, those books kept your fantasies of love alive. You just haven't experienced for yourself let. Could that be the silly feeling in your stomach?

I mean, Logan did come in and rescue you. He wasn't wearing armor or riding a horse, instead he showed up in a blue car and a leather jacket. He didn't slay a dragon but he did threaten that one guy at the gas station. You hear him stir, his eyes opening as he groans and shoves a pillow over his eyes so the sun stops hitting him.

You quickly turn on your other side, pretending to be asleep. Would Logan even want to be with someone like you? He's on a mission to bring you back to his home. This is just a mission for him.

Right?

The week deadline Logan gave Charles has gone out the window. It's been far longer as the two of you drive into a new state. Truth be told Logan has been enjoying being away from the mansion. There's no pressure to be anyone but who he is out here.

You don't know anything about his past, or who he was before he came back. You're bright eyed and curious. You had become more and more comfortable around him. You didn't care if he could shoot claws through his knuckles, you trusted him completely.

Now every time you saw something new you begged him to stop. He pretended to be annoyed, making some comment about how he doesn't have the money for all this damn gas. But he can't say no to you. Despite being locked away for so long you seem to have perfected your puppy dog eyes in a matter of days.

In some weird way, watching you discover the world has made him find some joy in life that he's been missing. Logan has always been a glass half empty person if you will and you were so full that some of it was spilling into Logan's glass. He learned that you weren't completely clueless but there were a lot of things that you had never experienced for yourself. Being told stories could only do so much.

You're leaning against the window of the car humming a song on the radio. You really love the radio. In the cupholder sits a water bottle that had been cut in half and filled with dirt and flowers. You had asked him to pull over while passing this field of flowers. He leaned against the car as you took your time admiring them all.

Laying down in the grass and staring at the blue sky. You had called him over and he stood above you, a smile on his face as you held out your hand.

"I don't frolic in flowers sweetheart." Still he let you lay and watch the wind blow the clouds, pointing out the ones that looked a little funny. By the time you got back in his car you had dirt on your clothes and the biggest smile on your face.

You handed him a little handful of daisies. You could barely look at him as you gave them to him, telling him they were a thank you. Those cute little flowers are now living in a cupholder but he likes being reminded of that day.

"Woah! Logan what's that?!" You sit up and point out the window. To your right was a massive wheel and tents and lots of cars.

"Must be a fair or something." He says.

"What's that?"

"It's like a big party I guess. There's greasy food and games and rides." He points towards the big wheel.

"Can we go?" You beg, this is the fourth time today you've asked him to stop and at this rate you won't get back to the mansion by next month. But Logan pulls off the freeway anyways.

The parking lot is uneven ground and you stumble as you try and step in the right spots. Logan just laughs, holding out his arm for you. Shyly you wrap your hands around his big biceps. The bright lights and smells overwhelm you as you step through the gates.

People all around you are laughing and enjoying themselves. You see kids running past trying to get to the next ride, people eating delicious smelling food, bells and whistles literally ringing in your ears from the different game booths.

"Too much?" Logan asks, pulling you to the side.

"No, it's just. I've never seen so many happy people all in one place." You admit. It was an contagious feeling, you wanted to explore everything. and be as happy as the people around you.

Logan takes you through the fair, not letting you go for a moment. He lets you play those rigged fair games for that teddy bear he could easily buy at some second hand store. But you want it so he pays the money. He does end up taking the last shot for you, using all his strength to knock down those damn bottles. Which he does but he also rips a whole in the tent and the tent behind it.

Oops. But you have that teddy bear now.

"I'm going to get us some food, you stay right here got it? No wandering." You nod as you sit on the wooden bench.

You're holding onto the bear waiting for him to come back when you hear someone crying. Through the noise of the fair you can pin point the quiet sobs. You know Logan told you to stay put but you can't ignore the cries. You get up and look around for the source, ducking behind one of the tents to see a little girl on the ground. She has tears streaming down her face clutching her knee.

"What's wrong?" You ask softly as you approach her. She looks scared and you try not to make things worse.

"I fell and hurt my knee and now I can't find my parents." She sniffs, wiping her eyes.

"Can I see your knee, I can help I promise." She looks unsure and so you take the teddy bear Logan won for you and hand it to her.

"This is Mr. Bear, he's a friend." She reaches out and takes him, petting his fluffy head and letting you get closer.

She hugs him tight as you gently rest your hands over her knee. Closing your eyes you hear her gasp as your hair starts to glow. When you open your eyes again her knee is healed. She stares at you in awe.

"You're magic!" She squeals as she stands up, her energy coming back in full force.

"I guess," She jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly. Suddenly she perks up, the frantic voice of an adult calling her name.

"That's my mommy, I should go." She hands you back Mr. Bear but you tell her to keep it.

She runs off to her mom and through the gaps of the tents you see her run into her arms. Her mom overjoyed at finding her again. Your heart sinks just a little, your own mother clawing her way back into your mind. Does she miss you? Did she even notice you were gone? You hear a tent rip and you turn around to see Logan pushing through the fabric. A panicked look on his face.

"Fuck! There you are." He grabs your arm and pulls you back out into the fair.

"I told you to stay put!" He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry...This little girl, she was hurt and I wanted to help." You wrap your arms around your body, afraid that Logan would be upset at you forever. He looks around and sees a familiar looking bear in a little girls hand. She was talking animatedly to her mother. He can pick up a few words. Magic, healing.

"That was dangerous to do sweetheart, you don't know what kind of people are out here." The worry in his chest isn't going anywhere as he sits down on the bench.

The fear that overtook him when he saw you were gone, fuck he hasn't felt that in a long time. His mind going to the worst places as he frantically searched for you.

"I know, I just couldn't leave her there." You say.

The truth is you had forgotten what the world was like to people like you. Your mother fed you lies for years about how horrible people were to those like you. Mutants. But for some reason when you're with Logan you feel safe. You feel like nothing can hurt you with him around. He's completely flipped your life upside down and you've loved every second. So for a moment you didn't even think of the danger of using your powers out in public. Not when you had Logan.

To your shock Logan pulls you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you tightly. You're here, you're okay. He tells himself. He can't fight it anymore, this feeling inside of him. Somethin in him has changed and it's all your fault.

He lets go far too soon your liking. Not saying a word as he hands you some food. You eat in silence, your knee bouncing up and down as you keep glancing at Logan.

"You don't like it?" He asks seeing how you've barely touched it.

"No no I do, I just...I guess I'm not that hungry." You push the tray of food back to Logan and he just sighs.

"Come on, I want to show you something." He stands up and holds out his hand.

Silently you let him lead you through the crowds until you've gone past the games and the food. Your jaw drops as you see the big wheel come into view. All of your worries are forgotten as you run towards it, Logan following close behind.

"Get in sweetheart, I'll be right there." You see him whisper something to the ride operator and hand him something before getting in next to you. You yelp as it starts to move. Slamming your back against the metal of the seat.

"It's okay, I got you." Logan lifts his arm and puts it around you, letting you stick to his side as the cart goes higher and higher.

You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest as you feel yourself getting higher up in the sky. A loud pop makes you screech and slide closer to Logan. He chuckles and gently tilts your head up to look at him.

"Check it out sweetheart, got the best view in the house." You slowly move your face to see big bright colors in the air. You let go of Logan and grab onto the metal bar. Leaning over it as you watch the bright colors shoot through the sky.

"Fireworks." You say breathlessly.

Every year the small city near by would launch these into the sky. Your mother always forced you to bed before night fall but you had your ways and would sneak all the way to the attic. Watching through the tiny window. You could only ever catch a glimpse but it was the highlight of your year, now here they are right in front of you.

"They're beautiful."

Red, Orange, Blue shimmers of light just light up the whole sky. The sky rumbles from the loud booms and the soft fizzles. You rest your head in your hands, utterly mesmerized by the scene in front of you.

Logan has seen a lot of fireworks in his day but these just might be his favorite. They're nothing special. Maybe a little bigger than he's scene before. But these are the ones to bring a smile to your face. You haven't stopped smiling since the show started. He wanted you as close as you could get and what better place than the top of the Ferris wheel.

There's colors lighting up the sky but his eyes are on you. He just can't help himself. Seeing you so happy, so at peace. It's all he wants. His own heart beats a little faster when you look back at him. Nothing but pure joy in that pretty smile.

"Gorgeous." He whispers. You look down at your lap, fighting the fluttering in your stomach.

"Thank you, for everything Logan. For showing me the world, for...for just being you." You don't think you could ever repay what Logan has done for you.

Everything feels so different now but it's a good different. The kind of different that makes you want to dig deeper to see just what has changed.

"I owe you more than you know sweetheart," Logan's rough hand covers yours. He gently takes lifts it off the metal bar and interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing it gently.

"You asked when we first met why they sent me to come get you." His other hand reaches to cup your face. There's nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as he tilts your head up.

"The truth is I was lost." He doesn't want to spill everything but he needs to know what this whole trip, what you mean to him.

"The past couple of months it feels like I've been drowning, like I couldn't breathe. Until I met you. You look at the world with an optimism I haven't scene in so long. It's infectious. You're infectious."

"Is that a good thing?" You whisper, afraid to even move in fear of ruining this moment.

"Depends, I'm an old man sweetheart. If you don't mind that, if you don't mind me." He knows that he may not be the kind of person you've dreamed of. He's not exactly out of a storybook now is he?

"Logan...All I've known is the inside of that house. I didn't know what was out here," You glance back at the fireworks, at the people below you watching and laughing.

"But you showed me just what I've been missing and I could never thank you enough. I don't know why you felt so lost, but I'm glad it led you to me." Everything just feels right, your heart beating in time with his as he leans in.

Capturing your lips in a soft kiss. Now you don't know if the fireworks are in your head or if they're still going. You can't focus on anything but the feeling of his lips on yours. Both his hands now cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. Chasing after the fresh air that he's longed to breathe.

You reach up and tug on his jacket. Needing him closer to you. This, this is more than you could ever imagine. The stories don't do it justice. Words on paper could never have prepared you for this. For the feeling of his hands on your skin, the movement of his lips, the soft noises, the scent of cigars and honey, the desperation behind every single thing he does.

It couldn't have prepared you for the overwhelming flood of emotions swirling through your heart. It's brand new and you never wanted to it to end. It feels like an eternity passes by the time Logan finally pulls back, his lips still so close to yours. His chest rises and falls slowly. Maybe it's just the fair lights but you swear you see the red creeping up his face.

"What are you looking at?" You ask shyly. A giggle bubbling in your chest as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Just wondering how I got so lucky." He says sincerely. Seriously how? Maybe this was the worlds way of thanking him, for forgiving him for the sins of his past.

"I think I'm the lucky one." You kiss his wrist, resting your hand on his arm.

The ferris wheel lurches back into motion taking you both off guard. Logan grabs onto you quickly, pulling you into his chest as you slowly move back down to the ground.

It's like everyone else fades to the background as Logan guides you through the crowd. You're very aware of his hand in yours. You don't ever want to let go. But the fair has come to an end and it's time to leave. Though you don't think you'll ever forget today.

"Do we have to go back to New York already?" You ask as you rest your head against the car window.

"There's still so much I want to see." So much you want to see with Logan.

Logan taps on the steering wheel, he knows he'll have to return to the mansion eventually but he looks over and sees those pleading eyes.

"I don't think they're missing me too much, maybe a little longer." Your eyes light up and he just shakes his head, a smile on his face. Man is he fucked.

I'll be home soon Charles, if you can hear me.

As Logan pulls out of the parking lot he thinks back to what he was told before leaving. Take your time. Well he never specified just how much time. In fact, a small cabin up in Canada doesn't sound too bad right about now. But he'll take you there another day. For now, you have the whole world to explore. He rests his hand on your thigh and pulls out onto the freeway.

"So sweetheart, where do you want to go next?"

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #dofp logan #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff

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n0vazsq · 1 month ago

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The art of rivalry | MV1 x Reader

pairing . . . max verstappen x rival!reader

summary . . . You and Max have always been rivals, whether it was over the smallest things or actual competition. However, when you're stranded with him under an umbrella that barely fits you both in the midst of a rainstorm, you start to wonder if everything between you has to be a game to win

request . . . no!!

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . !PART OF MINI FIC SERIES! stop i love this sm?? i hope you guys like it!!

. . . It started small.

Who could send a text reply faster? Who could finish their food first? Who could wear their shoes the fastest? Harmless, dumb little competitions that Max turned into a full blown rivalry before you even noticed.

Then, it escalated.

"I bet I can find parking faster than you."

"First one to finish their gym session picks the next movie."

Even completely random things; who could guess the next song on the playlist, who could hold their breath underwater longer, who could predict the exact time their food would arrive. Max had to win. Every. Single. Time.

But today is different.

You two had gone out for a simple walk around town, but of course, you were competing to see who could find a suitable coffee shop the fastest. However, halfway through your walk, a storm comes out of nowhere and nearly drowns you two in water, but luckily you found a tiny shop with an awning big enough to cover you both.

The rain is relentless, pouring so hard it drowns out your footsteps as you continue your walk side by side. Max, the genius problem solver, holds up the umbrella he bought from the convenince store down the street, but it's his umbrella; too small to fully cover you both. He tilts it toward you instinctively, but that means his shoulder is completely exposed.

"Max, you're getting soaked," you point out, concern etching your face.

He shrugs, clearly unbothered that his shoulder is soaking wet. "So? Not like it's a competition."

That makes you laugh, shaking your head. "Everything's a competition with you."

Max grins, turning slightly to face you, nudging your arm slightly. "Fine. If I get sick first, you win."

You roll your eyes but grab the umbrella handle, pulling it more toward the middle to keep him covered too. It's such a small thing, barely anything at all, but for once, neither of you feels the need to turn it into a game.

Now, it's just the quiet sound of rain, the warmth of being so close to each other, and the realization that maybe… not everything has to be a competition.

Maybe this is one challenge Max doesn't mind losing.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @eloriis ,, @linnygirl09 (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

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b3ach-bunn7 · 5 months ago

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I THINK YOU WERE IN MY PROFILE PICTURE ONCE

Touya is at a party he doesn’t want to be at, when he meets you. Part two here

(Fic based on the song in the title :D)

College!AU, No quirks, fluff

(Highly recommend listening to this while reading )

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Touya doesn’t really talk to people at parties.

He doesn’t even know why he goes to them. To drink, maybe, or to hook up with someone when it’s been too long since he felt skin on his own. Keigo forces him to show up more often than not, and today is one of those days where he’d rather be sitting in bed watching shitty movies than here.

College is fine. Touya can’t complain about the distance from his father, and it’d take a miracle for him to admit he misses his siblings. Even if he does. Only a little. He misses his mum more, the person she’d turned into once their father was out of the picture. Crazy what wonders a divorce can do.

But he likes the freedom. The monthly apology cheque his father deposits into his bank every month. He visits home during the holidays and most of his friends ended up at the same college as him, so he really couldn’t hate it if he tried. Life is good.

What’s not good is this fucking party. He washes his hand. He used the toilet to get away from a girl a little too eager with her hands, and he’s dreading going back down. You’re sitting on the bottom of the stairs when he notices you. Sitting in his way, actually. He doesn’t recognise you but you look his age. You’re not wearing anything that screams ‘college party’, just an old band shirt and worn out jeans. You’re nursing a can of coke he’d bet money has no alcohol in it and you’re wearing earphones. Tangled ones with washi tape around one of the wires. Cute.

He considers just asking you to move out the way. You two talking is only a waste of his time. But, he’s bored, and he’d much rather be sitting bored here with you than inside with everyone else. Especially miss handsy.

He sits down next to you, on the long steps of the frat house you’ve both found some solace in. You’re leaning on your hand, boredly looking off into the distance, and you don’t notice him at first, not until he reaches over and tugs an earphone out your ear. You turn, face slightly offended until you get a good look at him.

He’s waiting for it. The badly hidden repulsion at the scars on his body, something of that kind. But instead of lingering on those your eyes lock onto his. Your head tilts slightly.

“Your eyes are very blue.”

He scoffs slightly. “Thank you.” He wiggles the earphone in the air. “The party that bad?”

You sigh. “Yes. If you couldn’t tell from my very un-party attire I did not know I was going to be here tonight.”

You shuffle slightly so he can fit in better. “So why are you here?”

You pause your song and take out your other earbud. “Well. My friend is trying to get with one of the boys here. I am here for emotional support, but she ditched me the second we got in here.” You grumbled.

“Good on you for staying.”

“Yeah, well. She’s my ride home.”

Touya snorts and you look at him quizzically. “So. Why are you here?”

Touya adjusts himself, moving just slightly closer to you. You smell like something sweet, like vanilla, and you place your can of coke down on the floor next to you. The party goes on in the rest of the house, but it feels very far away.

“Well. I feel obligated as a college student to show up to at least some of these parties.”He mumbles and you laugh.

“You mean peer pressured like me?”

Touya frowns. “I sound like a loser when you put it like that.”

“If the shoe fits.” He shoves your shoulder and you giggle.

He moves his head slightly to peer at the band name on your shirt. You raise a brow, flicking the side of his head.

“Take me to dinner first.”

“I- Shut up, I’m trying to read your shirt.”

You giggle again and Touya reads properly as you straighten the fabric up for him . ‘Modern Baseball’ it reads, and he nods, impressed.

“Good band.” He says and you raise your eyebrows.

“You gonna ask me to name you five songs now? Their dates of birth?”

Touya snorts a laugh. “No. I look that pretentious?”

“Might do. Maybe it’s all the piercings and the bone white hair.”

He reaches up and wraps a lock of his hair around his finger. It’s getting too long now and he knows his mother would have a field day if she saw. It tickles the back of his neck and he shoots you a look.

“Uhm, I’ll have you know this colour is all natural. And the piercings are cool and they piss off my dad, so it’s a win-win.”

Your mouth opens in shock slightly, and he taps under your chin. “You’ll catch flies.”

You push his hand away. “That’s natural? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. Get it from my mom.”

“Wow. I was gonna say, if it is dyed it looks so healthy. Soft.”

Touya tilts his head at you, letting his hair flop to the side. “You wanna cop a feel?”

You bite back a smile. “Weirdo. No.”

“Shame. It is very soft. I condition.”

“You want a medal for that?”

He looks off to the side, pretending to ponder. “That’d be good. Be nice to bring some metal home to mom.”

You laugh and it makes him nearly smiles again. You have a nice laugh, he decides, and he wants to hear it more.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around?” Touya asks, sitting up slightly.

You lean your head against the wall, looking at him under the low lights on the staircase. “Well, I’m assuming we do different degrees. What do you study?”

“Psychology.”

You perk up slightly at that. “That’s sick. That was one of my choices. I do Education, though, and that’s a whole other campus away.”

Touya hums under his breath. You turn slightly, legs stretching underneath him so you’re sitting more comfortably. He nods slightly. “That makes sense, then. I think I would've remembered you.”

You wince at his line and Touya barks a laugh at your reaction. “Ew! What the fuck was that?”

“What? I think that’s pretty good!”

“No! This is not a disney channel original, never say that to me again!” You groan.

Touya sighs dramatically. “God, fine. I’ll think of something better, I guess.”

You shake your head. You lean your head back again, and Touya’s eyes trail the line of your throat, the gold necklace that sits delicately on your collarbones. You catch him staring and he doesn’t look away.

“You okay there?”

He nods. You nod too. You let your eyes trail over his face shamelessly in turn. He expects you to linger on his scars. He doesn’t blame you. It’s scarred skin that delves down past the shirt he’s got on, from his forearms up to his palms. It was a bad accident at the hands of his father none of his family talk about anymore, and he knows it looks weird.

But you don’t.

You don’t stop for a second on them, instead letting your eyes land on his eyebrow piercing, of all things. You point to your own eyebrow.

“I like this. Your piercing.”

“Thanks.”

“Did it hurt? I want a piercing but I’m scared of the pain.” You say, rubbing your eyebrow like it’s already there.

Touya laughs slightly. “Nah, I didn't feel it. But I have a good pain tolerance, so that might be why."

You frown. “I don’t.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” You scowl at him and he grins.

“Look, the place I get it done is good. My friend Shiggy works there, he’s good. If you actually want one, go to his place. It's called the LOV.”

“Aw. For real?”

He nods. “Really for real.”

There’s a faint stench of alcohol that Touya finds always lingers in houses like these. He wonders if you think it’s coming off of him.

“I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.”

Touya studies you for a moment. “You wanna get out of here?”

Touya hopes you can hear the suggestion behind his voice. Judging by the way your eyes flicker across his face just for a second tells him you do. However, the soft smile you give him a second later does not fill him with hope.

“While I am flattered. And interested. I promised my friend I’d stay. And I don’t really do hook ups.”

You smile shyly and Touya nods. He’s not mad about it. This conversation has been the most enlightening thing he’s had in a while.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He nudges you with his elbow and your smile widens.

Touya yawns. It’s getting late and closer to the time he can acceptably call it a day. He wouldn’t call this party a bust. He met you, and he’ll never complain about free drinks. His yawning triggers yours. You rest your head on his shoulder. He acts like it doesn’t surprise him.

“I’m tired.”

“Same.” He rubs his eyes. “How is it only ten?”

You groan, eyes screwing shut. “It’s only ten? I told her we’re leaving at half eleven. That’s another hour and a half.”

Touya huffs a laugh. “There there. Your coke will keep you up. Excellent party drink, by the way.”

You frown up at him. “Shut up. I have class tomorrow, I won’t survive it hungover.”

“Valid. I’m not a fan of alcohol. I want a cigarette, though.”

You scrunch up your nose, eyes still shut. “Ew. Smoking is gross.”

Touya pouts even though he knows you can’t see him. “But it makes my voice sound all raspy and sexy.”

“Cringe.”

“Shut up.”

You sigh. Touya looks down at you and pokes your head. “You falling asleep on me?”

“I think I am. Wake me up at eleven.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “You do realise we are blocking the staircase right now?”

“So?”

“True.”

Touya pauses for a second. “Aren’t you supposed to see her at half past?”

“She’ll be too drunk to remember.”

You fumble around you for a second, almost knocking over your can of coke. He watches as you retrieve your phone. You hold up one earphone to him and out the other in your ear. Touya flicks the tape holding them together. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Don’t ask. College is expensive.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He wordlessly puts it in his ear. The short wires pulls you just a bit closer. You press play. It’s not a song he recognises, but it completely differs from the noise slipping down the corridor from the party. It’s something soft, acoustic, and your eyes droop shut again as you rest your head on his shoulder once more.

“Wake me up at eleven, okay?”

Touya feels something weird in his chest at the fact you trust him so easily. Maybe it’s some form of stupidity on your part, but he’s not complaining. It’s nice. He knows he doesn’t always look so approachable, not with all the scars and piercings and the look on his face that’s usually a mix of bored and brooding. You don’t seem to care though.

“Alright." He says.

Touya isn’t stupid. You won't speak like this again. He knows that you will probably wave goodbye when your friend gets here and that will be all. He’ll be too awkward to ask for your number and you’ll be too shy to ask for his. You will most likely never cross paths again, lost in the crowds of students that litter the halls of the college. All he’ll have to remember you is washi tape and this song he needs to remember to ask you the name of before you leave.

You breathe deeply and Touya thinks you’ve actually fallen asleep. He sinks slightly lower on the step so your neck doesn’t strain so much. A quick glance at his phone. He’s got twenty four minutes until he needs to wake you up. The party still goes on inside, and the alcohol he’s drunk is just enough to give him a light buzz, enough to ignore how the edge of the stair is digging into his ass. A hand comes up and lazily pushes your earbud back into your ear. Touya smiles slightly at the sight. He thinks the normal thing to do here is remove you from his shoulder and excuse yourself, but instead, he lets the dulcet tones of your music soothe him instead.

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Something small to try and push me out my writers block 😽 I rediscovered the song from the title and it literlaly is the PERFECT oneshot idea

I hope u all enjoy Student!Touya as much as I do cause he is my FAV thing to write. Also this fan art is exactly how I imagine him in my head

As always, leave any fic ideas in my asks and I hope u all enjoyed :P

#oneshot #fluff #b3ach bunn7 #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #bnha touya #dabi/reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi touya #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x female reader #touya i love u #mha touya #touya x reader

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heart2sea · 2 months ago

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࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ to swim at open sea (read on ao3)

word count: 2.1k tags: angst, hurt/comfort, ref of his card omnipotent perception, AFAB reader, periods mention, lemurian, love confessions

a/n: thinking about rafayel and his myths and everything about him makes my heart hurt so i wrote this as an outlet of some sorts LOL. also this is my first time posting my writing on tumblr yay <:o)

Sometimes, you couldn't help but wonder.

The entrancing smell of painting oils filled your nostrils–you didn't dislike it, nor it bothered you, but it was a very distinct scent that stayed trapped inside your nose for hours after being in its presence. The brush that worked them, and the hand that held it, were under your watchful, pondering gaze. The way they moved was entrancing, like the song of a siren luring a sleep deprived sailor to the restless sea; like his hands were made for creation, to mold, to bring life to his canvas and undo it when it fits his whims.

The hands of a god.

The soothing lullaby of sea waves enveloped your mind, akin to the gentle caress of a lover. Your gaze, half-lidded, on the verge of falling asleep, found itself lost on his features: delicate, graceful, noble, heavenlike. Under normal circumstances, a smile would have graced your lips—oh, so hopelessly in love, heart fluttering at the sight of your Rafayel entranced by his painting, the soft sound of the brushstrokes and both your breathing the background melody of the romantic scene. But now, you just stare, almost befuddled, trying to carve an answer out of his microexpressions and the powdery smell of his cologne.

You couldn’t help but wonder—

Why does he keep hiding from you?

Your mind went back to a brief conversation you overheard on one of your shared trips, something you weren’t supposed to hear. Not because Rafayel wouldn’t want you to, but because you knew it would eat your brain out bite by ravaging bite, until nothing but the faint humming of anxiety remained in your now empty head.

She thinks she understands me, but she doesn’t.

You never told him you overheard that.

It had been months since that trip; since then, you tried opening up with him, baring your heart out in hopes of him baring his the way you thought he already had. Before that, it angered you—it wasn’t your fault, right? You’d understand him if he explained himself better, if he stopped being so vague, averting the conversation into something else entirely when questioning him. Because he loved painting you tales of Lemuria, of its people, of the sea and its fiery currents.

But it was all very calculated, like he would rehearse the tales beforehand over and over in the vast expanse of his lonely bedroom, so nothing too sensible would spill out when telling them to you.

You have my entire heart, he’d whispered into your soul one passionate night, his eyes full of heartfelt devotion.

But did you?

One particular afternoon, he noticed how you were drifting away, irritable, unreachable. His usual playful demeanor morphed into concern with a hint of alarm; he brought it up with something simple, almost silly at first—why were your texts lacking emojis? Stickers? Instead of the usual 10 minute average between responding to his messages, now it was up to 30 minutes. Then, when you tried to laugh it off, he pointed out how you weren’t teasing him enough, or you weren’t clinging to him the way you used to, and how his jokes weren’t exactly making you laugh anymore.

You took the easy way out: your period. What a terrible excuse to use, and incredibly evil: it was one of the areas Rafayel truly lacked expertise in. He had read up on it, and it tracked. Irritability. Detachment. Pain. (Are your cramps making you feel irritable today?). All sorts of nasty symptoms you seemingly had no control of. So he believed you, and tried to give you some space and, oh—your sweet, loving angel tried so hard to understand, even when it physically pained him to keep some distance (and sometimes failed, in true Rafayel fashion) so you’d feel better.

So it broke you. You couldn’t keep the act anymore. You rushed to his house one afternoon, eyes tearing up with guilt, and smooched him with kisses. When he asked you why you were sobbing, you apologized for treating him like absolute shit in your period.

It wasn’t a lie. At most, it was a half-truth.

She thinks she understands me, but she doesn’t.

It crept through the back of your mind and stayed there, gnawing at your head, giving you migraines. It hurt. Because when the anger dissipated away, it was replaced with an empty melancholy. He tried so hard to understand you, to adapt to your land mannerisms; a sea creature that wasn’t made to walk in land, to withstand the warm temperatures of the bustling city, to spend so long away from the ocean, all that sacrifice—

And you were incapable of understanding him.

You wanted to.

You loved him.

You didn’t notice the hand waving in front of you as your gaze got lost onto nothing, seemingly looking outside the window and to the sky. It was only when its movements got more insistent and hurried that you snapped out of it.

“Helloooo? Is someone there?”

You blinked in rapid succession and shook your head as his voice brought you back to reality. Rafayel had an eyebrow raised, his palette discarded beside him as he tried to pull you back to earth. The soft glow from the setting sun gave him an ethereal look, the orange hues peeking from his massive windows functioning as some sort of real-life canvas in which he was painted on.

A smile formed in your lips as you let out a sigh. “Yes, captain. Everything A-OK over here.”

“Clearly not.” He shifted, his body facing you entirely. “I have been calling out for you for a while. Thought you were a goner.”

“So if I were actually dead, is this how you would check?” You decided to bring a playful facade to mask your turbulent feelings. Something you observed from him. “Not checking my pulse? Romantically and tragically cradling me in your arms, calling my name in hopes of me waking up?”

But there was no humor in his eyes as he carefully studied your expression. It was like he was seeing right through you, trying to piece a puzzle in the shape of you. As his eyebrows furrowed, you started to simmer excuses in your head for when he eventually asked you about it—the period excuse wouldn’t work, because you were clearly not on your period, and blaming it on PMS would feel too convenient. Maybe you could point to work-related stress? Grieving over your family again? It hurt. It hurt thinking how the first thing that came into your mind was outright lying to him instead of baring yourself to him.

And it made you wonder how it was so easy for him. To omit important information, to not open his heart out entirely for you, who was so eager to let him into your heart.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, one of his fingers delicately tucking a strand of your hair back. His eyes glimmered with a hint of vulnerability, as if he were afraid of the answer.

You took a deep breath, unable to break eye contact. A poignant pause filled the room as you took in the sight of his blue-magenta eyes. What were you supposed to tell him? Should he know that you heard him that time? Should he know that doubt now filled your heart where pure devotion once was?

And is.

The idea of him knowing that made your chest hurt. You should’ve been angry at him. But you couldn’t.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out of it. Your brow furrowed and a knot tied tightly on your throat. It should be easy, lying to him, right? Like he did to you? You were entitled. It was your given right. You should’ve been furious, seething, demanding—

He backed away suddenly, painfully, clutching his chest, looking troubled as he anxiously looked for your eyes.

You’d completely forgotten about it.

The bond.

He might not know exactly why, but he could feel it, tugging at him, filling his heart with your frustration, guilt, anxiety, sadness. Alarm started bubbling in your chest.

“Cutie, I—”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

You averted your gaze, looking into a distant corner. The warm orange hues of the sunset had dissipated, leaving nothing but a cool blue enveloping the room. Why were you apologizing? Why were you the one apologizing? It should have been him doing it.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to it.

He had to know by that point, right? As he lowered his head, laid on the floor, and nuzzled his face into your lap—like begging for forgiveness, silently, reverently—you wondered if he knew. If he understood.

A terrible, horrifying, disgusting thought crossed your mind for one second. It wasn’t an original thought, it wasn’t the first time you wondered about it, savoured it, felt it. What if? It would be so easy, so attainable, and it would take no effort.

To use the bond to force him to open his heart to you.

You froze. No, you didn’t want that to happen. How ironic it would be, forcing him to be honest in such a dishonest way. What would that make you? What would that make him?

Tears finally started falling from your face as you gently stroked his hair.

“Cutie?”

“I’m alright.” You sobbed. “It’s alright.”

He looked up with his painfully angelic doe eyes, concerned, almost terrified. Propping himself up with his elbows, he sat right up, wiping your tears with his thumbs, tenderly cradling your face. How? How could he be so tender, so loving, and yet not let you into his heart the way you wanted? The way it would benefit you two?

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, sobbing into his palm. “I’m really trying.”

He didn’t reply, his contact stilling for a moment, pondering, contemplating. His jaw tensed momentarily before resuming his loving strokes on your cheeks.

She thinks she understands me, but she doesn’t.

Because he wasn’t exactly lying. You truly didn’t understand him. If you did, perhaps you wouldn’t be sobbing big, hot tears the way you were. You wouldn’t have been in that position—him comforting you, instead of you comforting him for not being able to crack open his heart the way he wanted you to. It’s the reason why, whenever you promised him something, he’d do it the Lemurian way, insisting your human promises held no weight. Why he made you swear to the sea, its stormy gaze watching over your vow.

Still cradling your face, he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

Does he know?

He placed a tender kiss on your lips.

That wasn’t exactly an answer.

He then whispered something in Lemurian, foreign to your ears. It crumpled your heart, making it bleed out on the cold, hard marble floor of his studio. You didn’t have to understand it. You knew. You felt. He insisted that you didn’t need to understand the language—that you would know. You would feel it. That it was the way lemurians expressed their affection, their mother tongue being simply one of the many tools for it.

Your hands trembled as they made their way to his hands, cradling them back. You let out a shaky, vulnerable chuckle, cocooned on his apologetic warmth. How infuriating. How euphoric. Because he wasn’t lying, this once. The way it reverberated in your thumping heart, seeped into your bones, entangled within your soul that was painted with his colors—you had many doubts, questions, unspoken words; yet, for some reason, this one thing was as clear as day, even though it should be the first thing you should’ve questioned. It glowed in your shared bond and spilled in both your hearts. You exhaled.

“I love you, too. More than you believe. I swear.”

This time, he didn’t make you swear in the name of the sea; instead, he let it linger within the now darkened room, his eyes carefully taking in your features, memorizing the way your tears travelled from your cheekbones to your jaw, as if attempting to understand how important this declaration was to you.

He took a deep breath and finally, after what seemed centuries, let out a breath, a relieved, elated smile escaping from his lips. You could’ve sworn you felt his fingers tremble, just a little.

He repeated his lemurian declaration again, this time placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

You embraced him tightly, dampening his shoulder with your tears; not that either of you cared, anyway. You tangled your fingers in the violet waves of his hair, gently stroking it in soothing motions. He shuddered, almost violently, then sighed, content, and you silently smiled against his clothes as you understood.

His heart cracked open, just a little. And that was enough for now.

Your sweet Rafayel.

#my writing #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lads rafayel #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #qi yu x reader #qi yu

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bunnliix · 2 months ago

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When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Eighteen

I didn't think I'd go this long without posting for this, or at all, but life kinda killed me ngl, and so did school. But I'm alive and here's another chapter of our favorite boys, plus y/n!

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: We get down to business, and y/n starts her first day as an official member of Ateez! wc: 1.6k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: pet names, fireman carrying, scenting, mentions of being anxious and embarrassed, I think that's it! masterlist

Y/n was woken up by the sounds of footsteps in the dorms, opening her eyes to find that she was still embraced by San.

“Good morning baby, did you sleep well?” The beta asked her, already awake. A bit too disoriented still by the cacophony of noise, and still a bit overwhelmed from the last time she was awake, she just nodded. San chuckled before explaining the chaos, “It’s a bit loud, isn’t it? This is what mornings are like when we forget that we have to be up at a decent hour. You should go ahead and get up too, we have to go into the company today, for you, to start preparing for our next comeback.”

Y/n slowly sat up, watching as the others ran around the dorms, a couple of them running around from one part of the dorm to another, too busy to notice that she was awake. She groaned as she sat up further, feeling her body protest, but she sat up fully, as San’s hand came up to support her back. She smiles gratefully at the beta, before pushing herself off the couch, and reaching back to pull the bulkier man up as well.

“We should get dressed ourselves, shouldn’t we?” She asked him, to which he nodded in response.

The two of them walked down to her room, the beta leaving her there as he walked further down the hallway to his own room. She entered her room, finding that one of the others must have unpacked a few of her things, and from the organization of it all, it was Seonghwa who did so. She found that her clothes were still packed away, which she was grateful for the elder omega respecting her privacy. She quickly picked out an outfit, finding one that was comfy yet also not too casual looking, and that was also easy to move in. She quickly packed up a bag with everything she needed, including another change of clothes, just to be on the safe side. Emerging from her room, she heard voices from the main room of the dorm, and once she got there, she found that everyone but Jongho was there.

“Good morning y/n-ah, how are you?” Seonghwa asked, coming over to her when she was noticed. “Good morning Seonghwa-oppa,” she said, “I’m doing well, I’m a bit nervous though.” She admitted, feeling able to share her feelings with her fellow omega.

“It will be okay. Today is mostly a show you the ropes day, and also for Hongjoong to try and insert you on the track as well, even if it might be a bit too late to get you in for any of the album material. But with an upcoming tour next year, it’s easier to get things done now, than to wait.” Seonghwa explained, trying to ease her nerves.

Hongjoong caught everyone’s attention as he stood up. “The vans are here,” he announced, “Everyone grab your things and head downstairs.” That spurred everyone into moving, as everyone shuffled to grab their bag or bags and leave the apartment. Y/n slung her own bag onto her shoulder, and with Seonghwa’s guidance, left the apartment. Yunho followed behind the two of them, and when they reached the first floor, headed into the second of two vans. When y/n climbed in, she found that San was the only one inside. He beckoned here to sit next to him, and she did.

“Did Seonghwa-hyung tell you what we’re doing today?” He asked, turning to look at her. Y/n nodded, replying, “He told me that today was getting me used to what will happen now, and also for Hongjoong to play around with where I’ll fit in for your songs.” “For our songs,” Yunho interjected, before going back to scenting Seonghwa in the row ahead of where y/n and San sat.

And with Yunho’s words, the car fell silent for a little while, everyone focusing on their phones or the view outside, since they would likely be locked away in the company building for the rest of the day.

Seonghwa leaned his head on Yunho’s shoulder as the alpha’s arm wrapped itself around the pack omega’s shoulders, while San silently showed y/n his social media, while also explaining the likelihood that she would be getting access to her own accounts and the like over the next few days, once the company had created them. Yunho glanced back at the two behind them, before looking down at Seonghwa. “You’re worried for her, aren’t you?” “Of course I am. Just like I worry for the rest of you,” Seonghwa replied, “She’s one of us now, so one of mine to take care of and worry over.” “I know. But you have us to help, so please don’t try and take it on all by yourself, hyung.” Yunho reminded him, and before Seonghwa could reply, the van was pulling in front of KQ.

The other van had already arrived and the other members had already headed inside, so the four quickly climbed out of the van and made their way inside. The others thankfully hadn’t gone far, finding them standing around the elevator, seeming waiting for them to arrive. Hongjoong came up to Seonghwa first, scenting the omega like Yunho had in the car, and once he was satisfied, moved onto scenting Yunho, the other alpha melting under his pack alpha’s actions.

Hongjoong moved to stand in front of y/n, smiling at her. “Would you like me to scent you as well?” He asked, slightly unsure. Y/n thought about it for a moment. They did say last night that she could have it if she wanted, and she really did. His scent was so nice and the thought of having him scent her sounded so good right now. She found herself eagerly nodding in reply to his question, her face heating up when he chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Come here then,” he said, beckoning for her to come a bit closer and she did.

His hands reached out, scenting her wrists with his, smiling and relaxing as both of their scents bloomed, before he slowly leaned in, scenting her neck as well. Y/n could feel herself becoming putty in the alpha’s hands, reaching out and gripping his hoodie for some stability. Hongjoong pulled away once he noticed her grip on him, as the omega in front of him whined at the distance between them now, enjoying the closeness. By the time y/n had gotten her wits back, the other members were standing behind Hongjoong, smiling at her, though there were a few chuckles at her reaction. She looked away, a bit embarrassed by how quickly she melted.

“Awww, it’s okay,” San comforted her, “We all had the same reaction when hyung scented us for the first time.” Still flustered, she looked down, until Wooyoung came up next to her and grabbed her hand.

“It’s okay, baby omega. We find it cute how you melted into hyung.” He told her, tugging her into a hug.

“Well, now we should get down to business, yes?” Yunho said, stepping in and pulling the attention away from y/n.

“Yes, and we’ll be stealing y/n to go over choreography,” San said, with Yeosang and Wooyoung nodding in agreement, with the latter moving to stand behind her, his hands moving to rest on her hips. “Wait, we need to take y/n to go over her lines for the upcoming comeback.” Hongjoong cut in, to which the three whined in protest.

“That can be done later, hyung. We should get y/nnie up to speed with the choreography, since she likely can’t be added into the official tracks right now.” San said. In an almost seemingly planned out move, Mingi appeared in front of y/n, swooping the omega off of her feet and up over his shoulder. As the tall rapper moved into the elevator that had just opened up, she could see Hongjoong follow them, telling the others, “We’ll see you later!” before joining Mingi and her in the empty elevator car. Once the door was shut, Mingi set her gently back down on her feet.

“Sorry for that, firecracker, but they would have done the same thing if we had let them.” Mingi apologized, reaching out and ruffling her hair, to which y/n batted his hands away. This made the man chuckle, though before the omega could say anything in retort, the doors opened and Hongjoong reached for her hand, pulling the younger one out of the car and down a familiar hallway. She recognized where they were, and realized that she was back in the same hallway that they had been guided down to see the two idols that first day at the company.

However this time, she was led past the other studio, to a door a little farther down. “This is my studio, and where we’ll be working today,” Hongjoong explained. “My studio is two doors down,” Mingi cut in, as they all ushered themselves into the studio.

Hongjoong sat down in his chair, as Mingi took the one next to him, while y/n stood, unsure of where to go or sit. The leader turned around in his chair, smiling at her to try and ease her nerves. “Sit down on the couch, yeah?” And after she had done so, he spoke once again, “Now, let’s figure out where exactly you fit in our songs.”

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cheriewoo · 6 months ago

Text

Finally Found You | Park Seonghwa ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 19 : Temprature Play (ice)

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Seonghwa finally found you and have no intention of letting you go ever. Childhood friends meeting after ten years, a wild night with some cold ice while you explore each other’s temprature.What more could you ask for ?

☆Word Count : 2.8k ☆Genre : Smut, Angst, Non-Idol, Childhoold friend Au ☆Pairing : Childhood friend! Seonghwa x F.Reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : mdni!, Childhood friends to loves, pure smut(18+), a lil bit of plot, old memories, sulky Seonghwa, butterfly kisses, nipple play, temprature play with ice cubes, Soft dom! Seonghwa, he takes the lead, fingering (f.reciveing), oral (f.recieving), kinda graphic and detailed, pet names (baby), Seonghwa is definitely in love.

NOTE : So my friend who is also a writer, suggested that we write a story based on each other’s fav songs. “Finally Found You” by Enrique Iglesias is her fav song so I wrote this piece while she wrote based on my fav song, ‘Adore You” by Harry Styles.

Also I am Grinding hard to catchup my loves as my exams had a chokehold on me so please show some love for this Day 19 fic. Hope you enjoy the heck outta it ma chéries.

The flickering light from the screen illuminated Seonghwa’s room, casting shadows over his sharp features as he leaned forward, completely absorbed in the footage. On the screen, a younger version of himself ran across a grassy field, laughter ringing out as a girl chased after him. They must’ve been around fourteen, barely old enough to understand the world, but old enough to know how much they meant to each other.

You.

The camera panned to you as you tackled him, both of you tumbling into the grass in a fit of giggles. He smiled faintly, his fingers brushing over the TV screen as if he could somehow touch the memory.

Ten years. No contact. No explanation.

He let out a soft sigh, the nostalgic warmth of the memory fading, replaced by a hollow ache.

Where had you gone? Would you ever meet again? He could only hope... to finally find you.

There was a loud bang on the door as Seonghwa grumbled in his sleep. The people on the other side had really been getting under his skin for a while now. All he wanted was a few days of peace, a few days alone to bask in the warm, nostalgic memories of you. Telling them about you, about his past and his feelings for you, his childhood friend had been a mistake.

A big fucking mistake.

“Hyung! Open up, or else San’s gonna break the door down!” Wooyoung screamed from the other side.

Mingi, San, and Wooyoung had been trying to get him out of the house to stop him from being so gloomy and sulky. He appreciated their effort and concern, but today he just wanted to wallow in those sweet, happy teenage memories. But the three menaces outside wanted him out, partying and dancing in the club.

This has to be the worst day, he thought to himself before reluctantly getting off the couch and heading out with the three devils.

Seonghwa hadn’t wanted to go out tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for loud music, flashing lights, or the usual chaos his friends thrived on. But Wooyoung, San, and Mingi hadn’t given him much of a choice, practically dragging him through the club’s doors.

“Come on, hyung! You’ve been sulking long enough!” Wooyoung shouted over the pounding bass. “This is your night to relax!”

San handed him a drink, grinning. “You need to loosen up. Have some fun.”

“I was having fun.” Seonghwa shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at his kitten-lookalike of a friend.

“That’s called being depressed, not fun,” Mingi teased, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been sitting around like a sad poet waiting for inspiration. What’s next? Writing tragic love songs about sunsets and heartbreak?”

Seonghwa barely heard his friends, his attention already pulled toward the dance floor. There, among the writhing, sweaty bodies and neon lights, was a figure that seemed familiar. Your silhouette swayed to the music, moving alluringly with your back turned toward him. But something about the way you moved struck him deep in his chest, and the reel of memories started playing in front of his eyes.

Was it… you? That’s not possible… right? How could you be here, and... wow—HOW?

His heart raced, a decade’s worth of longing suddenly rising to the surface. He clenched his jaw, unsure whether to believe his own eyes. You looked beautiful in that shimmery, buttery yellow dress, eyes closed as your body moved to the beat. His eyes scanned your form from head to toe, and he gulped at the heat rising through his body.

His expression didn’t go unnoticed by his mates, who exchanged knowing looks.

Mingi nudged him, smirking. “What are you waiting for? Go say hi!”

Seonghwa shook his head, hesitating.

What if he was wrong? What if approaching you now would reopen wounds that had barely healed? What if it’s not even you?

“I’m not sure.” he muttered, taking a cautious sip of his drink.

But his friends weren’t having any of it. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “If you won’t go, then I will.”

“Wooyoung-ah, hold your horses. Let’s not scare her away, okay?” San said, being the gentleman of the group. “Let’s make things easier for him.” San signaled to the bartender.

As you finally made your way off the dance floor, the bartender tapped your shoulder. “Hey, the guy standing over there wants to know if you’ll give him your number.”

You followed the bartender’s gaze, your eyes landing on Seonghwa. Instantly, your heart skipped a beat. You knew that face anywhere, even after all these years. He hadn’t changed, if anything, he’d only gotten more handsome, more intense, more sexy.

But you didn’t rush over to him. Instead, you smiled to yourself, pulling out a pen and scribbling your number on a tissue. You paused, deciding to add a little message.

"Finally found you? You should’ve come over yourself."

With a cheeky grin, you handed the tissue back to the bartender. “Give him this.”

As you left the club, you glanced over your shoulder one last time. His eyes were still on you as he read the paper, but he hadn’t moved. Not yet. But you knew this was only the beginning.

After ten years. Park Seonghwa. Finally found you.

Not the worst of days then. Who was he kidding? This was the second-best day of his life, the first being the day he met you for the first time.

Panic surged through him as he saw you leaving, your figure disappearing through the exit door. Putting his drink aside, he ran. He could hear his friends cheering for him as he maneuvered through the sweaty bodies on the dance floor, finally reaching the other side of the club.

Outside, the cool night air hit him, refreshing but doing little to calm his rising anxiety. He spotted you a few blocks away, your silhouette illuminated by the streetlights, and your shimmery dress glowing in the dark.

“Hey! Y/N, wait!” he shouted, pushing himself to run faster.

You turned, surprise flickering across your face as you saw him approaching. “Seonghwa?”

He stopped a few feet away, breathing heavily but grinning. “I didn’t think you’d actually leave without letting me catch up.”

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. “You looked pretty engrossed back there. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt? Meeting you after ten years—and that too so randomly—had to be the highlight of my night,” he replied, stepping closer, emboldened by the thrill of the chase.

“Smooth talker, huh?” you teased, but your eyes sparkled with interest.

“Only when it comes to you, you look so pretty.” he said, catching your gaze. Blinking away the embarrassment of what he had just said, he focused back on you. “Y/n, I really want to talk. Can we—”

“Let’s go grab some late-night snacks, then. We can crash at my hotel room.” you suggested, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

You filled him in on all the details. How you had to move away suddenly, why you couldn’t keep in touch, and how you were finally back for a few days but planned to move here permanently in a few months. He shared everything that had been going on in his life. Ten years was not a short time, but every moment you both spent walking to the hotel felt like an eternity.

Your heart fluttered, a faint hope surging within you. Maybe he was single, maybe there was a chance he still had feelings for you like you did back then. But both of you chickened out, and no one confessed, and then you left.

As you entered your hotel room, the warmth enveloped you, contrasting sharply with the cool evening air outside. Soft lighting cast a gentle glow around the space, highlighting the plush bedding and inviting ambiance.

“Make yourself comfortable.” you said, gesturing toward the bed as you moved toward the mini-fridge tucked away in the corner. You could feel Seonghwa's gaze on you, intensifying the air around you.

You both chatted for a bit, sipping on the champagne. The bubbly liquid warmed you from the inside, loosening any anxious nerves. You settled on the bed, inviting Seonghwa to join you. He accepted, sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Remember the last time we shared a drink ?” you asked teasingly, referring to the childish stuff you both had done at the age of fifteen.

“How could I forget? You challenged me to finish a whole bottle and ended up on the floor,” he chuckled, shaking his head, reminiscing about the time you had snuck a bottle of booze out of your daddy’s office.

As the laughter faded, a silence settled between you, thick with unspoken tension. Seonghwa leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and before you could think, his lips captured yours in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It felt electric, igniting the spark that had been cooled for the past ten years.

You melted into him, responding with equal intensity as the kiss deepened, your hands tangling in his hair. But just as you began to lose yourself in the moment, he pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “I’ve missed this… missed you.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he reached for the bucket of ice. He grabbed a few ice cubes, holding them between his fingers as he leaned closer. With ease, he pushed you against the mattress, now on top of you. He dropped one cube at the intersection of your collarbones, and you gasped at the sudden chill while he followed the cube with his lips, all while skillfully stripping both of you of your clothes.

The ice cube melted in his hand as he rubbed it against your skin, tracing a slow, teasing path from your collarbones down to your shoulders. Each movement sent shivers through you, the contrast of the cold ice against your warm body igniting a fiery need deep within.

Seonghwa’s lips followed the ice’s trail, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses where the cube had touched, his mouth radiating heat that intensified the moment even more. He captured your lips again, the kiss deepening with a passion and urgency, as if he wanted to make up for the past ten years in this one night.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he murmured, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. You nodded, unable to form words, lost in the intoxicating pleasure as only a moan escaped your lips.

Seonghwa held the ice cube delicately between his fingers, gliding it teasingly over your navel, then inching dangerously closer to the spot where you ached for him most.

His kisses trailed lower, his lips brushing the skin between your breasts. His hot breath lingered at the swell of your breasts before he lavished attention on them, his warm mouth enveloping your right breast, fueled by the soft gasps and whimpers escaping your lips. The ice cube, still clutched in his other hand, glided down your body, trailing seductively over your stomach, teasing your senses as it drew nearer to where you craved him most.

With a torturously slow pace, he let the ice slide between your thighs, teasingly brushing against your dripping core. The cool sensation sent a shock of pleasure through you, causing you to moan softly, your back arching in response.

Seonghwa’s lips never left your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue as he expertly rubbed the ice cube against your sensitive folds. Each movement was a tantalizing mix of cold and warmth, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body.

“Seonghwa…” you gasped, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to work the ice against your clit, the chill contrasting sharply with the heat building within you. “Oh God, that feels—”

“Good?” he murmured, looking up at you with an almost devilish grin, his lips still wrapped around your nipple. The sight of him, dark hair falling over his forehead, eyes locked onto yours, made your heart race with desire.

“Heavenly…” you replied, only able to get that one word out, as your brain turned to mush from the overwhelming sensations. As he picked up the pace, rubbing the ice more intensely against your slickness, your body responded to the beautiful rhythm he had set, every flick of his wrist and gentle squeeze of the ice making you moan louder as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

The sensation of the ice rubbing over your dripping cunt was intoxicating, each icy touch driving you closer to the edge. “Seonghwa, please...ahhh...don’t stop.” you begged, your voice breathless. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your moans, the gentle clinking of the ice, and the wet sounds of your arousal.

“Mmhmm..” he hummed, his voice muffled as he continued to suck on your nipple, alternating between teasing with the ice and pressing the cube deeper against your clit.

“Seonghwa! I’m...oh God, I’m s-so close!” you moaned, lost in the bliss he was creating.

With each movement, your toes curled, the sensations pushing you closer and closer to the brink. The way he worked his mouth and the ice together sent you spiraling into a blissful haze, leaving you breathless. You felt your body tighten, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you moaned his name loudly, whimpering at the beautiful release.

But was Seonghwa done with you? Heck no! He wanted more to fill the void of ten years.

Seonghwa’s lips trailed lower, leaving a burning path down your body. His warm breath ghosted over your thighs as he settled between them, his hands guiding your legs apart. The coolness of the ice cube between his fingers brought a gasp from your lips as he slowly circled the ice around your clit, sending a thrilling, almost unbearable jolt through you.

The chill against such a sensitive spot made you squirm, your hips bucking up instinctively. “Hwa...” you moaned, his name spilling from your lips in a needy whisper. He had waited ten years for this, literally!

He grinned against your thigh, clearly enjoying your reaction, before his other hand moved, fingers slipping inside you with an ease that had your breath catching in your throat. His digits curled just right, matching the rhythm of the ice against your clit.

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, as he quickened the pace, his fingers thrusting into you while the ice slowly melted, leaving a cool trail over your heated skin. The friction, the cold, the way his hand moved inside you—it all built up in waves that you could barely contain. Again!

“Come on, baby. Can I have one more?” he whispered, voice husky with desire as he kept up the seductive rhythm. His mouth finally joined the ice, his lips warm and soft as they replaced the cube, flicking your clit with his tongue in slow, sensual strokes. It sent you spiraling.

The pleasure hit you like a mix of fire and ice combined. Your toes curled, your fingers twisted in the sheets, and you cried out, lost in the intensity of the moment. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up until he had coaxed every last bit of that orgasm from you, drawing it out until your whole body trembled in blissful release.

Seonghwa didn’t waste a moment. As you lay there, body still trembling from the waves of your orgasm, he leaned down, his breath brushing your sensitive skin. His mouth hovered just above your slick folds, teasing you slowly and deliberately.

He flicked his tongue against your dripping cunt, tasting the aftermath of your release.

The sensation made you gasp, your body jolting in response. You were still so sensitive, but his tongue was impossibly gentle. And that only made the heat build again, the fire inside you reigniting quicker than you thought possible.

He licked you slowly, savoring each stroke of his tongue, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming and moving away from the overwhelming pleasure. You could feel yourself unraveling again, the wet sounds of his tongue against you mixing with your soft moans.

“Hwa,babe I-” you tried to speak, but your voice broke, lost in the incoming pleasure. He smirked against your core, clearly knowing exactly what he was doing to you. His tongue swirled, flicked, and then he sucked gently on your clit, driving you closer and closer to that edge once more.

The second orgasm hit you harder, your body arching off the bed as you cried out. His name rolled off your lips like a prayer. It was intense, overwhelming, your entire body responding to every flick of his tongue and every stroke of his hand. Your fingers found his hair, gripping tightly as he drew out your pleasure, his mouth never leaving you until he licked every drop of your sweet release.

Seonghwa finally pulled back, his lips glistening with your release as he looked up at you with that same playful grin. "This is how much I missed you," he said, causing your heart to swell. In an attempt to capture his lips, you tried getting up from the bed, only to be met by his gentle lips again halfway.

“Glad I finally found you.” you said, smiling into the kiss.

You knew he was gonna get you.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

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rimunagenius · 11 months ago

Text

I Could Die For you

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 1.2k

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

Something inside the cards I know is right

Don't wanna live somebody else's life

Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.

With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.

This is what I want to be

And this is what I give to you because I get it free

"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today.

You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line.

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest.

"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need.

You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen."

That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate.

She smiles while I do my time

It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off.

You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her. You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it.

Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be.

I could die for you

It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal.

"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip.

"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside.

"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night.

"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.

"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring."

"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you.

"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you.

"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them.

Oh, this life I choose.

You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way.

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welcometoyunosworld · 3 months ago

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A connection

𝐊𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐢-𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 / 𝐆-𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

𝗦𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼 / 𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁: 𝘍𝘌𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘌! 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘒𝘱𝘰𝘱, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘎-𝘋𝘙𝘈𝘎𝘖𝘕 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘜𝘚𝘐𝘊, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 💋

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Being a famous singer and song writer wasn't just about fame or money, your love and passion for those inspired you to make music, the type of music that people can relate to, can vibe to and would absolutely love. You find ways to express your emotions in other ways. Making music, your fashion and your art. You really seek for something, anything, yet you still don't know what you really want.

When you were just a little girl, you'd be on and on about beung famous and rich, about how you'll be the star of the show. Now you're here, in your studio, staring at the blank screen of the computer in front of you as your mind won't leave you alone about your longing for that thing even you don't know. Grabbing a pencil and you sit up straight then began to write, making sure to find the right words or not. Trying to express that feeling of emptiness, feeling of being.. not enough. You feel empty, alone and.. sad.

You had many unreleased songs, most of them were songs about your struggles, pain and loneliness. You didn't plan to release them anytime soon.

You sighed and folded the paper and shoved it in the drawer before you left to get ready for your interview for today. You've been going viral again after one of your old songs started to go viral because it was used for an Edit Video of this one Kpop Idol that you were familiar with. After checking it out, you can't help but smile a bit, G-DRAGON, aka Kwon Ji-yong. Oh he was cute alright. And after that, you were listening to POWER by G-DRAGON on repeat while you were getting ready.

As you finished quickly, you made it just in time. It was bigger than you thought. The room was big, furnitures in the center and a coffee table in front, it was pretty simple, just the room size got you wondering why they need such a big ass room. But still, as your name was announced, you walked into view of the camera with your best smile and greeted the host with a polite smile.

“So Ms. Y/n, what are your thoughts about your old song that's been going viral again even though that song was years ago?” You hummed and took a good moment to think about your answer. “I am really happy that people are liking my old songs too, it brings me great gratitude to all my fans. I don't mind if they would like some or all my old songs, all that matters is that they do enjoy listening to the songs.” You replied with a smile as the host nods and nodded in respect.

“Ah what about the famous edit that blew up? Using your song for the Kpop idol G-DRAGON.” You raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I love it. The edit it amazing, my song definitely fits the Dragon himself. Very cute if you'd ask me. I had to watch it a few more times because my goodness this is the cutest man I've seen in ages.” You said with confidence and your honesty, you really found him cute, especially the edit.

“Ah so then, your thoughts about G-DRAGON and his music?” You had to take a deep breath, oh you were definitely gonna give them your 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁 thoughts.

“I think G-Dragon is very cute, i absolutely enjoy his music. It's just amazing! I just learned more stuff about him after i saw that edit of him. And he definitely ate and left no crumbs for not even hesitating to diss someone or something. His music gets me hyped and motivated, and when i see his cute face i just close my eyes and thank god that i find a REAL man out here. And oh the way he raps, god save me, i wanna hear more of his songs old or new, whatever. G-DRAGON, the living legend, ICON!” The host bust out laughing at the way you describe your answer, but he was satisfied with it and so are you.

At the near end of your interview, it was the last question..

“𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗚-𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻?”

You nodded with a snap of your fingers. “Yessir, absolutely. I would LOVE to see this man.” You said as you smiled happily though you'd doubt you'd be able to actually meet THE G-Dragon here, but a small part of you wished you would meet him, because you're already becoming a big fan of him, Hell, you wished you knew him sooner!!

“𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆, 𝗠𝘀. 𝗟/𝗻.”

Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar red hair and head scarf of THE living legend himself. He couldn't help but chuckle at your adorable reaction. “OH MY HEAVENS-” You ran up to him, but you didn't hug him. Oh not yet, you simply stood there, just admiring him which made him chuckle and give you his signature sweet smile. “Oh he's even cuter in person, is this heaven?” That only made him laugh softly and gently pat your head. “You are very gorgeous.” He said softly and he opens his arms for you, to which you gladly hugged him.

That interaction between you and Ji-yong left your fans and his fans in absolute shock. The moment was wholesome and very heartwarming. It was a moment you would never forget, especially when you even saved that photo of you two hugging. Ji-yong, too, couldn't help but keep the photo too, even printing it out and have it somewhere in his stuido. And each time he'd look at it, he can't help but smile softly, missing the warmth of your embrace, the angelic sound of your voice, the excitement and happiness he hears in your voice when you saw him.

After some days, you eventually found his Instagram, and liked his recent posts, even his stories too. You just can't help but miss him, you two didn't even have a proper talk in that interview because he showed up at the END of the interview. You find yourself smiling and giggling when you received a notification that Ji-yong liked some of your posts too.

It started off like that, just showing each other your support and love for music, until it turns into texting each other daily, until it turns into having calls here and there. It's been a long time already, nearly two months, you don't even know, you were just feeling so much more better. After one of his tours, you gave him a surprise visit at the dressing room while he was getting his hair styled. And before he went out, he gently placed a kiss on the back of your hand and said..

“𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺, 7𝘱𝘮?”

You couldn't even speak, but you managed to whisper a small “Yes..” and he smiled softly at you, feeling so happy.

You don't even feel that lonely anymore after meeting Ji-yong, that emptiness in you, was slowly going away, replaced with the fast beating of your heart when you were waiting for Ji-yong to pick you up, it took about five minutes or so. He arrived in that shiny car and he rolled down the window, he gave you a little smirk. “What a lovely view.” He said before he got out and led you to the door, opening it for you and even helping you get in carefully.

𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙣.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Aaaaaaa thank you!! Hope you like this one Baes!💋

#bigbang #kpop #choi seunghyun #daesung #gdragon #bigbang x reader #kpop x reader #kwon jiyong #taeyang #music

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