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wonijinjin · 3 months

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seventeen’s vocal unit singing their s/o to sleep

author’s note: this is such a cute thought i love when people sing others to sleep.

synopsis: what the title says.

word count: 0.9k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairings: seventeen vocal unit x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of food

the moment jeonghan saw your eyes drooping while on your way back to your home he thought he would melt. he was driving with you on the passenger seat and it was nearing midnight, so it was no surprise that you weren’t able to resist the calling of dreamland. “are you gonna fall asleep on me? you promised you would keep me company.” he joked while looking over at you at the red light. “i know, but i am sleepy.” you replied trying to surpass a yawn. “i will play some music that will hype you up.” he reached out to turn on the radio, but you stopped him with a whine. “sing for me, please?” you pleaded. he naturally couldn’t resist his baby angel’s soft gaze, so he started humming the melody of to you. “that sounds nice.” you smiled sheepisly with closed eyes, already half asleep. “quiet. just sleep.” jeonghan ordered then continued while you fell asleep.

you watched as joshua entered through the door after his shower, hair messy and face tired. “it is so great to finally be able to relax after this long day.” he whispered into your hair after he got under the covers of your shared bed. “thank you for waiting for me.” he cupped your cheeks, giving them a soft kiss each, his golden eyes boring into yours under the moonlight. “i am so glad you are back darling. i missed you.” you said while settling into his arms further, getting sleepier by the minute. “so did i.” he replied in a warm tone. soon after the silence a heavenly sound hit your ears; his voice singing run to you. “i love your voice so much, shua.” you adored how gentle his voice was, just like he himself. he stopped for a moment to let out a giggle, then continued; you could hear the happiness in his tone, how content he was with the situation, enjoying how he could witness your last moments before sleep took over your form. “sweet dreams darling, good night.”

“how can you keep composing songs for days without really sleeping?” you asked jihoon while chilling on his couch in the studio. “when you are in love with music it is easier than you’d think.” he laughed quietly. “and i am in love with not just your music, but you aswell.” you kissed his cheek. “thank you babe.” he smiled like a maniac, but what could he do, you made his heart jump for you every single minute. “you should rest a bit though. it is geting late and i know you are not used to staying up.” he suddenly said. he was always the type to take care of you, you were his world, his muse inspiring him every day to keep going. shortly, he loved you so much. “you are right as always, sir.” you playfully answered, making yourself comfortable on the couch, looking at him sitting at his desk and doing something on the computer. “it would be so great if you sang me to sleep baby.” you muttered, face squished into the pillow. he didn’t answer but instead gently sang as you wanted, the lyrics of _world making your heart flutter, soon taking you deeper into dreamland.

it was a late afternoon, on the weekend. you were in bed with dokyeom, him scrolling through his phone and you relaxing silently with eyes closed, trying to take in the rare moment of peace at this hour, letting the light of the descending sun tickle your skin. “look sunshine, isn’t this cat so adorable?” dk suddenly asked, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. “yeah, it is baby.” upon seeing his excited face you sighed; this was everything you’ve ever dreamed of, your happy place. “are you planning on taking a nap?” he mumbled, in the meantime muffling an escaping yawn. “i could, but only if you join me.” you replied. “want me to sing april shower to you? i know you love it so much and it goes so well with the vibe right now.” you kissed his lips tenderly, voice barely above a whisper. “i would not pass this opportunity on for anything else my love.” not even ten minutes later he found you snoozing next to him, making his heart flutter yet again.

“drop the beat!” you watched as seungkwan grabbed the microphone and started dancing and singing; you were in a karaoke booth, after spending the night out doing shopping and having dinner. while walking down the street he spotted the sign inviting you to sing a bit, and him being himself of course he had to drag you into the tiny room to enjoy yourselves for a bit longer before taking a turn to go home and sleep. you were quite drained, having had delicious food before; the sleepiness had definitely set in, you kind of felt like a big baby for it, but you didn’t want to ruin his fun so you opted for watching him quietly from the couch. “come on babyboo! sing with me!” he pleaded and you joined him, bobbing your head to the rhythm. “you are getting sleepy, aren’t you? you are such a big baby.” he giggled while gently patting your hair, turning the volume down a bit. “want me to sing you to sleep? you can nap a bit here, we still have time left.” he asked, and your ears perked up at his question. “yes please.” he got to the keyboard, waiting for you expectantly. “so which song is it this time?” you thought for a moment, then typed it in for him. “ah i see, yawn it is then. coming right up!” as the music started you could barely hear his angelic voice anymore, sleep overtaking you. “have a good nap baby.”

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catsushizz · 2 months

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My Belle - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Warning: fluff at first then just angst, death, grief, major character death (do tell me if I miss something)

Summary: Spencer loves you like it was breathing but what would he do when that source of oxygen is gone?

a/n: first time writing Spencer, I'm a sucker for the angst I hope you like it!

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Look how she lights up the sky...

Spencer heard it from a mile away which brought a small smile to his lips, he heard footsteps which isn't surprising that he knew it was yours because of the skip of your steps and that melody you kept humming.

He heard you open the door still humming the song as you took off your shoes. "Hey, Angel," he says lovingly as he greets you by the door.

You smile and kiss him on the cheek "Hello Dr. Handsome" he chuckled at the endearment and engulfed you in a tight hug.

You have been dating for 3 months and Spencer knew he was going too fast by telling you to share an apartment with him but that lingering doubt quickly disappeared as fast as it came when you suggested it yourself.

Spencer knew you were it for him. He knows your favorite movies to your favorite songs he knows almost everything about you actually.

You hummed the song and dragged Spencer to the living room "What got you in such a good mood?" Spencer chuckled.

"Having you all by myself today" you grinned, resting both of your hands on his shoulder. Spencer couldn't stop smiling, he was looking at you fondly, his hand on your waist as if it was meant to be there.

"Let's dance" you whispered, nuzzling your head to his chest "Explain how we are gonna dance with no music-"

"So far above me yet I...know his heart belongs to only me" You smile as you sing the song, you love changing the lyrics, Spencer specifically loves it when you change Evangeline to his name he remembered hearing it for the first time and he couldn't stop thinking about it for months.

"Je t'adore, Je t'aime Spencer" You chuckled at how off-key it was but it didn't matter when you saw that sweet smile of his. You started guiding him to move, your head resting near his heart and his finger stroking circles on your waist as he held you closer. Loving you was something he wished he had done a long time ago, he wished that he was there your whole life.

It became a routine, you dancing with him.

After a bad case, you'd sing for him, and if he was feeling down you'd urge him to stand and dance with him and that always made him forget why he was sad in the first place. He would never get tired of that song or your voice. Whenever you fight it always ends up with both of you in each other's arms and in tangled bed sheets in the morning.

3 months turned into a year and a year turned into 4 years and now you're engaged, his love never withered and neither did yours.

his team always asked him how he got so lucky he didn't know the answer to that and he just thanked whatever God that brought you to him.

But the gods were cruel. They give and they take.

He visited your grave every day with fresh flowers in his hands but they always ended up disheveled from how tight he was holding them. Everything changed after you left, he changed and he no longer rambled about his fun facts to the team, in fact, they hadn't heard him laugh or smile in a while.

He'd get snappy with them whenever they asked a simple question, his state wasn't any better too, he looked as if he needed to seek professional help.

"Spence?" JJ knocked on his apartment door but received no answer, she was about to try again but the door swung open. Spencer stood there annoyed and a frown displayed on his lips.

"What?" He asked, he didn't mean to sound so harsh but he was just having a hard time, he had a nightmare again, usually, it was you who would coax him until he calmed down but you were gone and it was a painful reminder every time he wakes up from a bad dream, he would much rather prefer to be stuck in that dream than face the truth.

"can I come in?" JJ's voice is gentle that was something he came to despise, everyone has been walking on eggshells whenever he's around and he hates it because it just makes him remember that you were gone.

Spencer let her in reluctantly, JJ's gaze darted everywhere in his apartment, it was a mess. She looked at Spencer with worry, a question hanging from the tip of her tongue.

As if sensing it, Spencer sighed and massaged his temple "No, I'm not using Dilaudid" he said harshly.

"That was not what I was gonna say-"

"Why are you here?" For the first time since she came in, he looked her in the eye. She freezes, she did not think this through.

"Spence, I know it has been hard for you, just let me help you- let us help you," she said with a hint of urgency in her voice.

Spencer clicked his tongue "I don't need help, get out" he calmly said but the way he said it begged to differ.

"I said get out!" He snapped making JJ flinch, she had never seen Spencer act like this but instead of backing out, she fought back.

"I know this is hard for you Spencer but didn't you stop and think that the whole team not only felt guilty because they couldn't save her but they lost her too? She was like family to them." She was crying now. Spencer was about to retort that they didn't know her like he did but she stopped him.

"I know she was your fiancé, Reid, but she was my sister, and losing her meant losing half of me so don't act like you're the only one grieving because we all are, let us help you and we can fix this, it might take a long- long time but let us do it together" she pleaded and fresh tears started to flow from Spencer's eyes.

It was quiet for a while nothing but broken sobs from both of them.

"I- I can't remember her voice" Spencer's voice trembled, his hands shaking making JJ engulf him in a hug. He held her tightly, his tears staining her clothes "I can't remember her voice" he repeated again like a broken record.

"shh, it's okay" JJ coed.

"I couldn't save her, I promised her I would protect her, s-she trusted me to protect her" he stutters, his breathing becoming labored "I don't know what to do, I love her too much to let her go"

"I know" JJ's voice broke. She remembered the night vividly, the night she lost you, she remembered how nothing could calm Spencer down, and she remembered how he cradled your blooded form from the comfort of your own bed, his sobbed mix with his overwhelming fast breathing, it tore her to shreds.

When you were at the hospital, she remembered the whole team was there, she remembered how Spencer couldn't sit still and how he had been crying for hours but when the doctor dropped the dreaded news, she could feel Spencer's heart drop, how his eyes became void of any emotions in just a second.

He dropped to the floor with his hand gripping his shirt near his heart where your head always rests when you're slow dancing, just remembering that made him let out a gut-wrenching cry, his shoulder shaking as he kept repeating the word 'no' over and over again.

When he felt like he couldn't breathe Morgan coaxed him to breathe with him but nothing could work. Losing someone special is like losing your purpose to function and having you gone was something he didn't realize he'd had to face.

"I have- uhm, I have a video of her," JJ said, pulling out a disc from her bag. Spencer had now calmed down, and seeing the disc from JJ's hand brought him an unfamiliar surge of emotions.

"She loved recording herself talking and singing, and she mentioned you here more than I can count" she chuckled holding back herself from crying.

She handed Spencer the disc with a tight-lipped smile "I'm gonna give you some privacy" she said taping his shoulder as she made her way out of his apartment.

Spencer didn't say anything nor did he move from his spot on the couch. The disc on his hand felt heavy as he stared at it.

He's scared, he's scared that maybe if he plays this video he won't ever move on and fall into a cycle where he can't stop watching the video for fear of forgetting your face and your voice.

He didn't even realize he had played the disc until he saw you and heard your voice in the video and when he heard it, it brought a new batch of tears pouring out from his eyes.

"Oh hi! Shit, how does this thing work?" You mumbled as you adjusted the camera. "JJ? Is this thing broken or am I just tweaking?" You called out, Spencer saw the camera shift to JJ her face contoured with annoyance.

"you're holding it wrong-" The video ended and for a few seconds it came back again but this time he was met with your beaming smile. Spencer choked on his tears, his heart clenching seeing your infectious smile.

"I met a guy" you giggled making Spencer smile despite the tears flowing down his cheeks "I'm gonna marry him someday, I just know it. He's my sister's colleague, he's smart and extremely handsome, and he likes reading as well, can you believe that?" You exhaled a disbelief sigh.

Hearing that brought a wave of nausea in his system, you never got to marry him.

The video then showed JJ looking at the camera with Emily on her side as JJ tells Emily to be quiet, and then the camera shifts to you and Spencer.

He remembers this, this was 2 years ago on New Year's Day, the both of you were at Rossi's mansion but decided to come out to have the time for both of yourselves.

You were singing but it was muffled because the camera was too far away "Move closer!" He heard Emily whisper "I can't, they'll see us" JJ rebutted but Emily grabbed the camera and the sound of her running with the camera violently shaking from her grasp made him chuckle.

He heard you clearly now, he had never been so thankful for Emily. You were humming and in between the humming, you told him that you love him and Spencer had to pause the video because he was having a hard time breathing again. He didn't finish the video and he fell asleep crying.

Spencer thinks he can't ever forget you, even if he settles down with someone else (which he doubts) he knows he can't ever forget you because loving you was different, different in a way where you'll yearn for it your entire life.

And when he played the tape again, the fleeting moment in which he genuinely smiles is then replaced by him crying again whenever you mention how much you really loved him.

Nothing feels light in grieving and when time passes it gets heavier it may be subtle but it's there. His future with you was forever gone in the wind, merely a whisper in his dreams and his heart ached for your warmth to be back again.

#Spotify #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss #x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #catsushizz writings

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ladyelissarose · 11 months

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‘Me & My Broken Heart’

Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider-Woman Reader

Spider-Woman goes by - ‘Dulce’ means ‘sweet’ in Spanish.

Summary: Miguel finds a daughter in you.

Warnings: FLUFF. period. It’s very short but it’s cute

“All I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a little love in the daaaaaark... A little but I'm hoping it might kick start... Me and my broken heart... nah nuh nah nuh na na na..”

Miguel typed away on his numerous screens, trying to ignore the way you sounded from afar off... as you sang this song ‘Me & My Broken Heart’ for the 1 millionth time. It was a sweet melody to his ears, you sounded almost angelic and carried the chords and lines perfectly... but it was the lyrics that shot him to his soul and made his heart squeeze painfully.

He hadn’t let himself feel love for a very long time now.. and he desperately craved it. Especially when he had you around, yes you were a teenager, but he felt a special care for you, ever sense you saved his life when he first came to your universe. He hadn’t seen anyone do such for him in a long time. And it made him feel in a way he hadn’t felt in a while.. a fatherly love submerge him.

Now he always has an eye on you, making sure you were safe and sound, he guarded you like a father would. If he couldn’t get being a father to Gabriella right, then he’d be your guardian as best as he could.. back in your home you didn’t have a family anyways, you fended for yourself and worked hard in between your two lives. Being Spider-woman sacrificed your family.

So Miguel went as far as providing a home for you in your universe and paying for your early college classes, when you admitted to him you wanted to be a chemist. You told him it wasn’t necessary but he swore by his decision that it was, and that you deserved it after all you’ve done for your city.

You two ended up being around one another a lot, on missions and even in your civil lives, he’d come to see you and make sure no one was bothering you or just hang out around your favorite places.

Miguel would be quiet most of the time, but he was genuinely happy and invested in you as he watched you be care-free around him, with your talk about teenage drama from school to your silly pranks on him.

And when you were a little quiet he spoke to cheer you up or teach you something new, like making a mess with empanadas or a cool swinging trick.

At the end of the day he either had a new bruise from try skateboarding with you or a sharpie drawn heart or cheesy joke on his arm. But nonetheless he was a listening ear and wise voice to you too, and he protected you with his life.

Everyone knew Miguel had a special place for you, and they left it at that, not wanting to take away what he found peace in- even if he hardly showed it or ever admitted it. Ever so often they’d push you to be around him when he was the grumpiest, and you gladly stuck to his side like glue, even if he told you he didn’t want to hear your voice at all or tell you to sit where he couldn’t see you.

But that was only because he wanted to control himself from hurting you with words or actions, like when he tosses things out of anger or frustration. He knew he’d kill himself if he ever hurt you, you were his best little buddy, his ‘little me’ and shadow.

Although he kept you around for he found a sense of comfort at knowing your peaceful and sweet soul was around to calm his raging feelings. Even when seen and not heard- or vice versa.

And today he wasn’t feeling his best… today was Gabriella’s birthday. The anger and guilt he felt towards himself weighed heavier than anything he had ever carried. So he asked Lyla to nicely ask you to go on a mission check with Gwen, and to come back later.

Soon when he didn’t hear your sweet voice singing anymore, he broke out and tossed his stuff everywhere, shouting curses and blaming himself for screwing up, regretting what he did.

Amongst everything he tossed around, a sticky note got stuck to his arm, and seeing he bright pink paper on him caught his attention and he ripped it off, but his curiosity had his honey eyes reading it intently, not remembering if he had ever used such papers.

Miguel’s emotions swirled around like a angry hurricane in him, it was ready to swallow him while as he let himself drown, refusing to crawl out again. But.. the simple words he read off the note in your messy teenage handwriting, caught his heart in your grip before he went under.

‘All is not lost, hold onto what still yours.’

He released the breath he was clinging onto, believing it’d be his last, and he clutched the paper tightly against his chest, over his heart. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he choked them away when he heard Lyla claim,

“She’s on her way in here Miggy, she finished her mission.”

He cleared his throat and huffed to himself, his heart wanting to see you again,

“Ok.. that’s fine.”

Not even a minute passed when he heard you skipping and humming the toon from earlier… and he couldn’t help but sing it himself, even if he didn’t remember all the words,

“all I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a little love in the mmm mmm... a lil’ but I hope it might kick start.. mm hmm mm hmm.”

———-

You had just walked in, when you heard the soft words being spoken with a rhythm, it was pretty good and calming.

Like a warm breeze on a cool day, it made a warm feeling seep into your chest as you embraced the peaceful atmosphere of it. You thought that it was perhaps one of the Spiderlings that was always singing around, for the voice was pretty smooth and came out like a low rumble, but it rocked your soul in a warm embrace.

You searched as you walked deeper into the lair, but it made you realized no one was around- not even Hobie Brown. It made you frown in confusion as to where it came from as you continued to hear the voice of what was deciphered to belong to a man, it made your heart swoon like when you danced in the rain or saw it puppy... it made you feel nice as it was your favorite song.

‘Sounds so beautiful...’

“all I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a lil’ mmmhm in the mmm mmm... a lil’ but I hope it might kick start.. mm hmm mm hmm.”

The last hum was a deep rumble from the heart out, it was like a sweet groan of a perfect motor that drove the perfect night drives. You've heard this comforting tone, though he never used it in a way to comfort others.. it was usually given when he was tired of someone or arguing. So it had clicked for you who it was, though it surprised you,

'Miguel.'

Quietly to not disturb him you swung up to his liar that was lifted high (which was usually like that when he didn't want to be bothered) but you just wanted to listen closely, not bother, so you were good right?

Once your feet touched the ground, you got a clear visual of him as you looked up to him, and your heart sunk. He was hunched over his desk, and in his hand he held onto the pink sticky not, holding on to it very tightly. The note appeared tiny in his hold, as his hands were larger than normal- not that it was bad of course ;)

His other hand delicately swiped the screens around as he looked at them all attentively. His face reflected off the screen, and you could see the most endearing, hearts took over the size of his pupils and he didn't look so dark as usual... pink practically covered his cheeks... even a soft smile made it on to his lips. A photo of him and you on a polaroid, the one you snapped while hanging off the Statue of Liberty that one evening.

You had on rare occasions seen Miguel’s sweet side, but that was only when he had a full tummy and was not being bothered by Hobie. But either way you cherished every part of him, he had become your father figure, with the harsh scoldings and comfortable silences. With the pat on the head or smacking your shoulder when the most ridiculous things came out of your mouth or actions- he meant the world to you.

As you drew closer, you remembered he didn’t have strong spider-senses, so you went with your gut, and let your intrusive thoughts win the best of you. Regardless of what he could do- it was Miguel.

Letting your hand extend towards him, you pushed on your wrists and webbed his back, hearing the web smack his brick-wall looking back, giggling when you heard him scowl nicely,

“What are you doing? I know it’s you Dulc- oh!”

You smiled to yourself and closed you eyes, sighing,

“I love you Miguel..”

You had pulled yourself against him, squeezing his waist tightly and leaning your head on his broad back- well like on his lower back, he was a giant compared to you. You could feel the way his muscles tensed as he sucked in a breath. It was like if he was afraid of touch- a strong, loving embrace, but slowly he let the air out from his lungs, and relaxed into you.. allowing himself to be loved and feel loved. His large hand rested on your little one, patting it gently, he then squeezed your hand and replied softly,

“I know you do Dulce... I know.”

His arm then came around behind him and grabbed onto the back of the collar of your suit, bringing you in front of him. You looked up to him right away, wanting to read him before he spoke, but you could hear his heart beat.. it was calm and steady, as he radiated peace and wore a small smile. Hope surged you as you mirrored his expression, a small ‘oof’ left your lips when he pressed the sticky note to your forehead, then pulled you in for a hug.

He cradled you close with his hands while you wrapped your arms around him once again, your head against his stomach this time, feeling his calm breathing an hearing his heart more clearly. It was the sound of home and undeniable peace. Miguel rested his hand on your head and the other reached your shoulders, where he pressed you closer to him.

You took in a deep breath and sighed happily, feeling safe and sound in him, knowing he was your safe haven and that he’d never let you go to be alone.

And Miguel smiled to himself, knowing he had you, confident that he would never let you slip away ever, and that you wouldn’t go either.. so with a tight squeeze he admitted,

“I love you too mija.” (Darling)

#guys I was just feeling off and needed some comforting myself #miguel x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #atsv miguel #miguel x reader fluff #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o’hara angst #astv miguel #spider man 2099 x reader

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orion4ever · 7 months

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hihi!! I really love Ur writings SMSM <33(Srsly they make me giggle n kick my feet)!! And I just wanted to request Qiu and Tamarack with an MC that likes/and is good at singing? (Preferably step 2, but since I rlly don't wanna burden Step 1 would be really lovely as well)

:))

Author’s Note: *laying on my stomach on top of my bed , writing in a fluffy journal while kicking my legs back and forth and giggling*

Pairing(s): Qiu Lin x Reader and Tamarack Baumann x MC

🗒️🍂

QIU LIN🗒️

They always loved your singing , they find it one of the most satisfying sounds they’ve ever heard.

Will beg you to let them sit and listen in.

If your singing along with a song then they might just get up and start dancing along.(why did that rhyme omg , in my poet era)

You guys would make such a cute dynamic duo though

If there’s ever a talent show , they will begrudgingly hopefully ask if you want to do it together.

They joke that you should make a soundcloud and post your singing there.

You kinda ruin most music for them from how much they love your voice lol

You and your childhood friend, Qiu were hanging out in your living room. It was late, your mom was still at work and Qiu’s parents decided on a spontaneous dinner date and trusted Qiu wouldn’t get into any trouble while they were gone.

Which Qiu thought was stupid, I mean what trouble could they get into so late at night?

They sat on one of the few mismatched couches and messed around with one of your mom’s pillows that had a loose string.

You were sitting on the floor, with an older disk player near you. You had been digging around your room and found it under your bed and decided to play some music.

“Which disk do you wanna listen to? The first or the second one?” You had asked them, holding up the two shiny disks.

“I don’t care, You can pick,” Qiu replied, shrugging while holding the pillow closer to their chest. They didn’t mind what music was played, just as long as they could enjoy your company.

“The second one then” you proposed, popping it into the player and clicking ‘play’.

The both of you were happy with the choice when a soft melody rang throughout the room. It didn’t have any lyrics, it sounded like something Tamarack’s grandparents may have played in the background while entertaining guest in their “drawing room”.

“Nice,” Qiu assured, flopping down onto the couch.

The two of you sat quietly while listening to the music, you swayed a little and started to hum.

Qiu perked up at the sound but didn’t say anything, worried that you might stop out of embarrassment.

They propped up their cheek with their palm and just watched as you turned that hum into a melody with a for once, at peace smile.

They really liked your voice.

TAMARACK BAUMANN🍂

She thinks you out-sing any famous pop star or church choir any day. She honestly thinks your voice is so angelic.

She loves it when you give her mini concerts while you two walk in the woods together.

I BET both my lungs that you and Tamarack have duets 100%

You two make a lot of music together and record it on one of her Opa’s camcorders.

Her Omi asks the both of you if you can try and cover a Frank Sintra song often.

If you do choir or singing lessons either at school or music hall then expect to practice with her nearly every day.

Tamarack can never duet with another singer because they aren’t you, and can never replicate the melody.

It was late afternoon, a few hours after school ended. Tamarack sat by her windowsill, reading a book about what and what not to feed forest critters when she flinched at the sudden pang of a pebble being thrown at her window.

She decided to look out and giggled seeing who it was, she opened the window and called down.

“MC, If you wanted to come in!… You could have just knocked!” Tamarack chuckled behind her hand, it always made her a little giddy when you would stand below her window like some Shakespearean love story.

“Nah! This is quick, just sit up there and listen!” You gave the ginger a thumbs up before pulling out a bulky boombox that may be older than some of the adults you guys knew.

“Pfft, What are you doing?” Tamarack kept laughing.

“I am going to sing something!!!” You yelled up before you pressed played and let the music play out a little.

Tamarack’s laughter quieted down at that, she paused for a moment before asking.

“Are you trying to serenade me?”

You also paused before answering. “Yeah, that's basically it”

You then lowered the volume of the old boombox and began to sing along with the song’s melody. You didn’t lose eye contact while you sang to her, so this moment felt special and intimate.

Tamarack put a hand to her cheek and watched down with an increasingly growing blush on her cheeks.

She listened to you singing to her and thought quietly to herself. ‘She didn’t deserve such an adorable gesture from you. You were way too good for her. You probably were…doing.. this.. to ..be ..n..ice-‘

Her self-deprecating thoughts were slowly drowned out by your singing, It was sweet of you. After all, Tamarack did love your singing.

#olnf tamarack #tamarack baumann x reader #tamarack baumann x mc #olnf mc #olnf #olnf qiu #our life now and forever #orion4ever #our life tamarack #our life qiu #qiu lin x mc #qiu lin x reader #qiu lin #fanfic #gb patch games #gb patch

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poisonlove · 10 months

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Miss Ortega | j.o

part 7

—The cell is made up of the nucleus and the cytoplasm and is enclosed by the cell membrane, which regulates passage in and out. The nucleus contains chromosomes, the cell's genetic material, and the nucleolus, which produces ribosomes. My eyes shift to Olivia, who was jotting down my words in her notebook.

In the late afternoon, I was at Olivia's house to help her study science, primarily about what a cell is and its functions. Olivia nods, giving me a nervous smile.

—One last question... what's cell division?— She puts the tip of her pen between her teeth, thoughtful.

—Cell division is the process by which a cell multiplies, splitting into two. In prokaryotes, it happens through binary fission (DNA filament duplication and subsequent division into two identical new individuals). In eukaryotes, it occurs through mitosis and, in reproductive cells, meiosis.— I say, shrugging casually.

Olivia writes it all down and then closes her notebook with a soft thud, sighing with satisfaction and tiredness.

—We're done,— she murmurs weakly, looking at me with a smile on her lips.

—We're done,— I repeat, and she stretches, slightly tense from maintaining an uncomfortable position for a long time.

—I'm not surprised you never get a failing grade, you're a book,— she says as she gets up from her desk, flopping onto her bed's mattress.

—Don't exaggerate...— I chuckle and give her a playful look. —Now... will you let me hear something you've written?— I nervously bite my lip, accepting the invitation to sit beside her on the bed.

Olivia sighs and reluctantly agrees to my request, blushing as she looks at me. —Wait,— she murmurs softly, leaning towards the edge of the bed, picking up a guitar case from the floor. Olivia glances at me sideways, holding the guitar in her hands.

—I'll sing you a little snippet of the song, okay? Also... I haven't finished it yet,— she says, toying with the guitar strings, likely tuning it.

I gaze in awe at her profile. Olivia had her head tilted down, holding the guitar in her lap. Her eyes briefly meet mine for a split second before she looks away with flushed cheeks.

Taking a breath, she closes her eyes, focusing.

—And I won't fight for love if you won't meet me halfway...— she begins to sing. And I say that I'm through but this song's still for you–

Her voice sounds angelic, surprising me with her talent. Olivia glances at me briefly, giving me a small smile.

—All I want is love that lasts— her eyes glisten, still looking at me.

—Is all I want too much to ask?— her fingers pause, interrupting the sweet melody. Olivia sets the guitar aside and looks at me with embarrassment, accepting my applause.

—Oh my god... you have an amazing voice,— I admit, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, staring at a fixed point on her lap. —Thank you,— she offers a shy smile, and I reciprocate.

A knock on the door draws our attention to the entrance of her room. Olivia's mother, Emma, is standing there with a smile on her lips.

—T/N, dear, why don't you stay for dinner with us?— Mrs. Rodrigo suggests.

With a smile, I look at Olivia's reaction. She's looking at me with bright eyes and a smile, nodding enthusiastically.

—That would be fantastic,— I reply, and immediately, two arms wrap around my neck, hugging me. The force makes me lie back on the bed, and amid laughter, I return the hug, smiling shyly at Emma, who watches us with tenderness as I hold Olivia in my arms.

(...) —So... how's it going with the girl you like?— Enid asks, hugging a pillow in her arms.

After helping Olivia study, I received an invitation from Enid to have a pajama party at her house, inviting Olivia as well since she was with me. The blonde only knew that I liked someone, but she didn't know who, and for obvious reasons, she was really mad at me. I know she's my best friend, but I still couldn't tell her that I was in love with Professor Ortega.

—Actually, it's all going wrong... she said it's better if I forget what happened,— I lower my head towards my lap, sadly biting my lower lip. —Well, what a jerk...— Enid makes a face. —If only I knew who she was, I would have given her a piece of my mind,— she says absentmindedly, pulling at the corners of the pillow in her hands.

—You tried your best,— I smile sideways, and Enid throws the pillow at my face, messing up my hair. I chuckle slightly and wink at her.

—What do you think about Olivia, though?— she suddenly asks, lying down on the bed. I turn toward the door, relieved when I see that the subject of conversation is still downstairs preparing popcorn for the movie.

—Are you crazy? She's here...— I whisper, and she rolls her eyes at my comment.

—I don't see her,— Enid turns toward me, focusing her attention on me.

I sigh and shake my head. —She's nice...— I shrug indifferently, smiling at the blonde. Enid raises an eyebrow and gives me a smile, silently asking me to tell her more.

—She's beautiful... there's no doubt... but you know I'm in love with someone else,— I play with my fingers, embarrassed by the situation.

—She'd be perfect for you, you know? Plus... she really likes you,— Enid confesses. She adjusts her pajamas and gets under the covers, getting ready to watch the movie on her room's TV.

—I know... but for now... I only see her as a friend,— I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and look confused at Enid's reaction, who is looking with panic over my shoulder.

I turn to her line of sight and pale when I see Olivia near the door. The brunette awkwardly leaves the popcorn bowl on the shelf and, with tears in her eyes, looks at me, shaking her head with regret. I stand up and bite my lips, mentally scolding myself for being so stupid.

I close the door behind me.

—Liv, wait,— I quickly descend the stairs, trying to catch up with Olivia. The brunette ignores me and walks toward the couches, searching for her jacket. I quicken my pace and grab her wrist. Olivia turns around and looks at me with tear-streaked cheeks, making me feel guilty.

—What do you want? You've said enough,— she says with venom, clenching her jaw.

—Liv...— I whisper, and her eyes glisten. Her shoulders relax, and she tentatively shuffles in place, wanting to hear what I have to say.

—Tell me...— her voice tone is clearly broken, showing that my confession has hurt her. I step closer, placing my hands around her face, wiping away some tears. Her eyes look at me sweetly despite the pain she's feeling. She places a hand against mine, giving me a comforting squeeze.

—Right now... I'm in love with someone else,— she nods, with bitterness in her mouth. —But it doesn't mean that in the future, I can't be with you... if you heard the whole conversation... and I'm pretty sure you did... I said that for now, I see you as a friend,— I smile sidelong, stroking her cheek. Olivia tilts her chin up and licks her lips, looking at me seriously. Suddenly, we're at the same height level since she's on tiptoes. My breath catches in my throat, and I timidly observe what the brunette wants to do.

—Kiss me...— she whispers, closing her eyes and clenching her jaw. —I just want to kiss you... at least once,— she confesses, making my chest tighten. I remove one hand from her face and trail it down her back, stopping at her waist, pulling Olivia closer to me.

—This...— I swallow, nervous due to the proximity. —This I can do— I lean toward her face and close the minimal distance between our lips. The kiss is sweet and at the same time salty from her tears. Olivia wraps her arms around my neck, sighing against my lips, receiving the long-desired kiss. The rhythm of the kiss is slow; we're simply enjoying the contact between our mouths. Olivia taps her tongue against my lower lip, asking for permission to enter. I part my lips, and our tongues meet, tentatively exploring each other's mouths.

I press my forehead against hers after ending the kiss. The brunette has a smile on her lips, looking at me with shining eyes of happiness. She leans in and briefly connects our lips for a split second before pulling away.

—That was... wow,— I admit, and she nods, completely agreeing.

I have to admit that the kiss was beautiful, I really enjoyed it. Her lips were sweet, inviting in a different way from Jenna's. Just mentioning the brunette makes me grimace, and I try to erase the image of her eyes from my mind so as not to ruin the moment. Olivia looks at me smiling, happy about what just happened.

—So... shall we go upstairs to watch the movie?— I suggest, and she nods slowly, starting to climb the stairs, our hands still intertwined.

—So... can you wait? I know it sounds horrible to ask, but I want to know, I want to find out if it's truly over with... the other person. I swear, if she's convinced that our... relationship? I don't know what to call it... is completely over... I'll give myself a chance to be with you,— I timidly ask, nervous about making this proposition. Olivia sighs and nods her head with both sadness and excitement at having a chance with me.

—Yes... you're... you're right, you know? I understand... it's not easy to choose between two girls you like... I'll wait... and if you choose me... I promise I'll never leave, T/N,— she admits, making me shiver slightly at the intensity of her gaze. I blush.

—Alright... because I was already getting ready to chase after you to talk,— I joke, and she chuckles softly, tilting her head back.

Her fingers tighten around my hand, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb.

—I wouldn't have gone anywhere... not in pajamas, obviously,— she raises her head with pride, and I burst out laughing at the expression on her face.

—Well... now let's go watch the movie? Enid's waiting for us,— I suggest, and she nods, starting to climb the stairs while still holding my hand, our fingers entwined.

It was late, but I was still awake, studying for the English literature exam I had the next day. The words on the pages were blurry, and I was unsure if I'd remember half of what I was reading due to how tired I was. But I had to keep going to be able to say that I had at least tried.

The vibration of the phone on the desk pulled my attention away from the book. With a sigh of relief, I picked up the device, thanking my lucky stars for the break. I looked at the screen, puzzled, when I saw that both Olivia and Jenna had messaged me.

I decided to read Olivia's message first.

Liv: heyyy (1:13 AM)

Damn, was it already one in the morning?

Yo: Hey Liv!

Liv: Are you done studying?

I furrowed my brows and nervously bit my lower lip.

Yo: Not really.

Yo: But if you need help, I'm here.

Liv: Great! Actually, you'd do me a huge favor if you could open the window.

I closed the chat and walked over to a corner of my room, spotting Olivia in front of my house, holding her phone. I opened the window and leaned out, smiling at the girl standing on the street.

—What are you doing here?— I whispered, not wanting to wake up the rest of my family.

Olivia looked up from her phone and smiled at me.

As a response, she moved closer to stand right beneath my window, gazing up at the tree near my house. With a swift but careful movement, she started climbing its branches, eventually reaching out to touch the edge of my window with her fingertips.

—Are you crazy or something?— I looked at my friend with concern.

—If you help me, you'd be doing me a favor,— she panted, not being able to hold on much longer.

I extended my hand and grabbed hers, helping her into my room. With a little jump, she made it all the way in, looking at me with a nervous smile.

—So, spill it,— I absentmindedly stared at the lamp light that was focused on the book on my desk. I sighed in frustration.

—In a few days, there's the end-of-semester dance... you know, the start of the Christmas break...— she put her hands in her pockets, blushing as she looked at me.

Oh... I knew where this was going.

—T/N... would you like to come to the dance with me?— she asked, sounding hopeful.

I opened my mouth in surprise and remained silent for a few seconds, wanting to think about her proposal. In reality... I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go, as I didn't want to be a third wheel between Enid and Ajax... but if I had to choose someone to go with... besides Jenna, of course... it would definitely be Olivia Rodrigo.

—Yes...— I whispered, and she leaned slightly forward, not having heard my response. I widened my eyes when I saw the living room light shining through my slightly open door. Quickly, I grabbed Olivia by the shoulders and motioned for her to move towards the window, needing to get out of here immediately. Olivia placed a foot on a tree branch before turning back in my direction.

—So? — my eyes darted towards the door as I used my hands to urge Olivia. I looked at her with wide eyes before nodding repeatedly. —Yes?— she asked, with a smile on her lips.

—Yes! Now go before you get caught— I muttered under my breath, looking at Olivia. She nodded and leaned towards my face, briefly connecting our lips for a split second. I looked at her in surprise but didn't say anything, watching closely as she jumped down from the tree, landing on her feet.

—Goodnight— she smiled at me, waving her hand, and ran down the sidewalk towards her house on the other side of the neighborhood.

With a yawn, I returned to my desk, picked up my phone, turned off the lamp, and collapsed onto my bed. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth as I heard the sound of the toilet flushing.

Well, it was just a bathroom break.

I turned on my phone and went on WhatsApp, reading Jenna's message. I couldn't deny that I was quite nervous; I didn't expect her to message me after days... maybe a week or two without hearing from her.

Ortega: Are you awake?

Yo: Yes.

Jenna's smile appeared on my screen, and I responded to her call with confusion.

—Hello?— I asked, hearing a breath on the other end. Jenna remained silent for a few seconds before speaking.

—Is it true?— she asked, leaving me completely stunned. I got under the covers, trying to figure out what to say.

—What?— I inquired, not exactly sure what she was talking about. She sighed in frustration before gritting her teeth.

—There are rumors at school that you and Rodrigo are together... is it true?— she muttered, sounding both annoyed and curious.

—Excuse me?— I was rather incredulous, not being able to believe what I was hearing. Jenna Ortega had called me in the middle of the night to ask me something like this.

—Is it true or not? ANSWER— she raised her voice, noticeably angry. I could hear her heavy breathing, making me feel uncomfortable and slightly afraid.

—No... We're not together... we're just getting to know each other... that's it,— I confessed, nervously biting my lower lip. —But anyway, isn't it none of your business who I'm dating? After all, you were the one who wanted distance a few days ago,— I retorted, annoyed by her attitude.

Jenna sighed loudly and ended the call, leaving me feeling both triumphant and confused. Whatever had gotten into her, I didn't know, but in any case, she had no right to treat me like this, especially after she wanted to pull away.

I placed the phone on the bedside shelf and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep. The ghost of Olivia's kiss lingered on my lips, while Jenna's voice echoed in my head.

To say that I'm confused is an understatement.

#wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #miércoles addams #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x you #professor #olivia rodrigo #kisses

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fairy-writes · 1 year

Note

Hello! How are you?

Idk if you take requests, but if yes, could you do an oneshot of Uta (or the others if you want) hearing y/n singing for the first time?

VOICE OF AN ANGEL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Gender Neutral!Ghoul!Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Fluff, Singing,

Notes: Someone pls, send me requests for other TG characters… I’ll write for anyone from the OG Tokyo Ghoul series (not :re yet. Well… except for Haise)

Trigger Warning for mentions of cooking and consuming human parts!

__________________________________________________________________________

When Uta first heard the singing, he was confused.

Who was singing?

And in his shop before it opened, no less?

He follows the sound to the upstairs kitchenette, where he finds you.

You’re singing softly, swaying from side to side as you sauteed some human flesh and munched on an eyeball as you cooked. The smell was divine. And paired with your lovely singing? He had died and gone to heaven.

Uta leans on the doorframe, arms crossed, and tilts his head to the side as he listens to the quiet melody. It’s in English, so he only understands bits and pieces but puts together enough to understand it’s a love song.

You were always a sucker for those.

You sing through the entire song, spinning on your heel to grab some spices—it might upset your stomachs later, but it made food taste good—and notice him.

And promptly shriek.

You drop the spices in your hands, and they clatter to the floor but, luckily, don’t spill.

“How long have you been standing there?!” You demand, embarrassed. He can practically see the steam erupting from your ears.

“Long enough. What are you doing here? I thought you were coming by later.” He asks as he steps closer, slinging his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. You return the love eagerly, cradling his jawline in one hand.

You tasted delicious. Like the creaminess of the eyes you had been snacking on and the taste of the flesh you had snuck while cooking. It wasn’t often Uta could be this flippant with his emotions and affection, but he made a special exception for you.

“I decided to come by and surprise you with some food. I wasn’t expecting you to come by early.” You reply, and he hums, dipping down for another kiss.

You laugh and pull away,

“I don’t want the food to burn!” You exclaim, and he shrugs,

“Let it burn. That just means I get to see you for longer.” He says, and you swat his chest. He doesn’t flinch but lets go and allows you to return to the stove.

The food is finished quickly, and Uta sets the table for breakfast. You had insisted on getting a Western-styled table with actual chairs. Mainly because you worried about his joints while sitting at a Kotatsu table despite him reassuring you he was perfectly fine.

As always, the food is mouth-wateringly good, cooked to perfection, and seasoned well enough to make Tsukiyama Shuu jealous.

While you wash the dishes, Uta dries them and puts them away. It’s quiet until he speaks,

“Sing for me?” He asks, and you pause where you are washing the chopsticks in soapy water. You set them aside and adjust the rubber gloves you are using to protect your hands.

“Alright, Phantom of the Opera. Why do you want me to sing? I’m not very good.” You say, and he leans his chin on your shoulder. He notices you can’t help but smile.

“I think your voice is wonderful. I’d love to hear it again.” He says, and you huff out a quiet laugh.

“Alright, alright, but only for you.” You say and begin to sing again.

#tg uta x reader #uta x you #uta x reader #tg uta #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul uta x reader #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul uta #fairy writes

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ceralmillkandstars · 2 years

Text

a beautiful ring pt 2 (namor x siren!reader)

excerpt: 500 year old god and a young, enchanting mermaid who acts like an absolute gremlin- she refuses to act any different in front of the man who could slice her in half. and he’s absolutely enamored by it.

welcome to part two :) thank yew for all of the support i’ve gotten from you guys so far. def slowly but surely buildin up here. part three is in da works as we speak, praying for some smoochy time cuz smut is my fav thing to write.

here we goooooo

You were raised to love the sea, but your home was the surface.

And by the gods did you need a shower.

Your back was sore, your hair stiff from the sea salt, and the slowly dying adrenaline rush was leaving your eyes droopy and body hunched over. Flying back to Chicago in the dead of night after returning from East Hampton’s beach killed you, your victory of stealing from a god seems meaningless when there is no more energy left to boost your own ego.

You found yourself surprised when you made it to your condo's doorsteps in downtown Chicago safely, in awe that you were just that good. Winding the prize out of your pocket, you gingerly look it over before laying it on your vanity desk, giving yourself a once over in the mirror after you beelined towards your room.

The east coast truly brought out the freckles under your eyes. You glowed, blowing yourself a kiss before trudging into the bathroom. Inhaling the crushed eucalyptus leaves affixed by twine atop of your shower head, you turn the knob as hot as you can stand, beginning to strip from the salty slip dress and undergarments.

A melody begins to hum from your lips, effortlessly wrapping yourself in a protective transfixion as you step into the shower. A groan mixing in with the angelic sound emits from you while the steaming water droplets pelt your back. You lean your head back, running your now goldless, godless fingers through your hair, gingerly tending to your scalp with lavender shampoo and tea tree oil.

You don’t quite know what you are, but you are too unique, too important, to not nourish.

Twirling your conditioner-soaked hair into a clip, you lather yourself with similarly smelling soap that reminds you of the tide pool you once bathed in as a girl, singing hymns that reminded you of the ocean floor you visited today. Twisting and swaying your hips to the song, you let the water turn ice cold once you cleaned yourself sparkling, your hair soft and relaxed, ready to be brushed and braided for the night. The frozen pellets encourage your fears, your inhibitions, the fear that you might have not been forgotten, swirl down the drain, the song coming to an end as you turn the dial off.

Lavender lotion, face oil, floral spaghetti strap and matching undies, french braids with rosemary elixir being soaked by your scalp- the perfect night.

Pizza would make it better, though.

You plop yourself on the bed, back on the mattress, legs raised and pointed towards the air as you dig for your phone to dial whichever place had stuffed crust and pineapple.

You are not alone, the moon murmurs to you, allowing a black sludge of dread to pool within you. Your body jerks up, and you cross your arms over your chest. Eyebrows furrowing and lips jutted, you scan your room.

My kitchen, my kitchen.

Who is in my kitchen?

If another absolutely rancid, stupid boy who couldn’t take the hint and throw away your condo key (you’d never admit that was your fault), you were drowning them. Even if you had to hull their unconscious bodies to Chicago’s murky waters to do so. Even if that’s never happened before.

That’s never happened before.

With a paling face, you slide off the bed and storm into the kitchen. Sometimes, you prayed that the moon would foretell you important information before such an event occurred.

“Listen, Chad, or Jason, or Elijah, who-fucking-ever, if someone ghosts you and doesn’t call you back that doesn’t give you authority to come into their home even if you have a key. I’m going to count to ten before I lay you flat on that countertop and remove your most important ligaments from your body because I am just so fucking tired- oh..”

Your fears did not travel too far down the drain while you showered. Your protection hum was not enough. In fact, the unease of being out of control slithered back up and wrapped itself like a serpent around your neck in a chokehold, for the moon did not whisper to you soon enough that he had followed you back home.

Your protection song was not enough. Usually, something so simple would cause an intruder to burst into a billion water droplets. Usually, you would have just come into the kitchen to discover a puddle and smile to yourself knowing that an idiot got what was coming to them. You did not need the moon to warn you of robbers, of shallow one night stands who can’t get enough of your hypnotic stares, of anyone coming into your home without permission.

And yet, this god stands in your kitchen, seemingly perplexed by your adornment of antique plates and cups poorly stacked in the open cabinets, not one of them the same. His fingers trace along adjacent jars, reading to himself each herb and spice labeled and put away on the wood shelf. You mirror his annoyed expression as his eyes wander near the sink, finding a ripped open, half eaten, chocolate bar.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” you murmur, taking soft steps towards the barrier of your kitchen. You find your fingers smoothing down the base of your floral tank top, giving an angsty stare towards the pair of matching panties acting as a second skin.

Well, at least it didn’t look like you were lying.

He did not change, his gold armor tightly affixed to his shoulders, spear tightly bound in his hands. The large, gold-plated necklace and larger than life pearls, other finely varnished necklaces stack upon one another and his curly, damp, yet neatly toppled hair with those earrings had your cheeks heating.

Very rarely does one of your stature, your nature, become seduced themselves.

Or so the moon tells you.

“Do those earrings hurt from wearing them all day, or does swimming in the water help with the weight distribution?” You blurt, cheeks red, back straight.

The god simply turns, giving you a slow once over. Quiet rage, curiosity swims in his eyes, a deadly demeanor flowing from him to you, you to him.

Exposing pajamas and random questions being unanswered won’t stop you from making his atoms implode with a whisper, for disrespect is a sour taste on your tongue.

Could you even kill him? Leave a scratch on his cheek?

Internally, you scoff. You won’t kill a god. You might steal from one, but it would be purely selfish of you to kill this man. The moon has whispered secrets of an underground world since you were a child wishing to sleep sooner, and it would be against your very nature to slaughter the man who leads a dream world.

So you continue on, filling in the bloodless silence as he turns to your dining table, “I like how you wear your oceanic garb on the surface. I think it’s neat.”

Is he going to take the ring back? Kill you? I mean, if you were him, you’d kill you if caught. Maybe you should go get it.

“I will not conform myself to the surface when I step foot onto this land.” The silky, calculated, deliberate cool tone reverberates around your home, the tranquil atmosphere melding into an eerie fog.

You pucker your lips, nodding.

The moon must be humored by your calmness before the very man whose spear could impale you before you could send another twinkle. Or horrified. Her daughter lackadaisical, wearing floral panties and a small, matching top in front of the serpent god.

He stares at you for a second longer, his eyes melting any confidence, any tranquility left in your body. A small girl with a knack for pretty things quivers before the god.

“I have heard rumors of the ones who are creatures of the sea. The creatures that can return to the surface world if they wish, full-bodied at their will. The creatures who can manipulate, who could conquer the world at their whim-”

“The moon does not wish me to conquer,” you bite, chin upturning. You turn, beginning to move towards your room. If you’re going to be interrogated, it better be with pizza.

A gasp pelts from you as his spear shoots out in front of you in a swift, presiding motion. The sharp metal kisses your cheek, the flesh of it nearly missing being sheered off.

Whiplash consumes you as you turn towards the god, face shot.

You guess it’s not the right time for pizza.

“The moon?” He quizzes, eyes narrowing, utterly fixated upon you. He observes as your chest heaves, your wide eyes staring down his spear, watching as you fight between looking at his face and that skillfully crafted weapon. There hasn’t been this powerful of a man so close to you before.

You gulp, nodding, wishing you could straighten your back, turn up your chin, more,“Yes, the moon.”

The spear slaps back to his side, and he moves away from you, continuing to contemplate your home. Your living room, your dining table, the half eaten dark chocolate bar sitting on the counter from the other night. Flowery, ethereal, a little messy. You strived to bring as much essence with you to the surface world as you could, finding incandescence in each piece you brought back to your condo. Stolen or not is long forgotten by now, all you know is that this is your home.

A god is looking around your home. Cheeks heated, you pray to the Mother to take the embarrassment and hope he is even the slightest bit impressed.

He strides towards the velvet couch, and you cringe as he sits. It’s unearthly to witness a sea god attempting to relax into your couch. It seems he feels the same way, unable to sit in an indestructible way, so he settles for resting his elbows on his knees, gazing up at you.

“Do you have velvet couches at home?”

It is not a request when he states, “tell me about your moon.’

“It is not my moon,” you begin, tiptoeing towards the adjacent couch. You grab a small throw pillow, shielding your peaking, freckled stomach as you sit down. Any wrong moves, any innuendos you’d fight him in your apartment would mean slaughter. The moon warns you of this as you cross your legs and force yourself to face the god. “She is simply the moon. She holds the energy to the waters, and water is within us all- no matter the level. I serve her and her me.”

His gaze gives away he is not satisfied with this information, and you shrug your shoulders. There is little information you wish to give away tonight, your growling stomach and fluttering eyes urging you to find a way to end this conversation and get this man on his way.

“What more is there to know?” What a teasing answer, and his brows rise in the slightest. You’re both struggling to keep your composure, this god used to his world bending to his will and your sleepy, angry hunger fueling whatever delinquency was about to arise.

“How do you serve her?” You nearly groan at that demanding tone, it’s what- midnight? There’s no food, emphasis on no food, in your stomach and you wish to curl under your freshly washed winter duvet to borrow away until the upcoming afternoon instead of being questioned right now.

“I am tired,” you feebly admit, voice soft like silk and edged glass. A fine balance for a soon-to-be tantruming moon child. You prayed to her to not let him see you act a fool after stealing his ring.

A fine price to pay for not being powerful enough. “Can we continue this conversation another time? You know where I live. I just want some pizza- what? Pizza is good.”

You nearly scoff at his grimacing complexion. Slowly deteriorating, your once gentle, feline gaze began to melt into a matching stare as he replied.

“The surface world food is vile.”

“Have you ever had stuffed crust pizza?” Gods, arguing was going to get you nowhere. What can you do to get this god to leave?

He is not leaving, child.

“How do you serve the moon?” He repeats, straightening his back.

He just won’t quit. You ponder how it turns out for someone to push his button; a fire ignites in your stomach at the thought.

“I’m in my undies right now, I’m hungry, I am exhausted, and I don’t even know who you are. Come back in the morning once I’ve eaten my vile food,” you spit, “and I’ll think about telling you all my cute little secrets.”

Incredulously, his mouth gapes open in the slightest before standing up, bolting to tower over you faster than you can recalibrate yourself. Before your gaze can linger on his thighs for more than a moment's notice, you find a tight grip on your jaw, cheeks squishing and your lips pursed in the slightest. Dread consumes you, and you feel the moon shake her head.

“You dare,” he begins, staring down at you as if you were less than the scum under his feet, “speak to me like this as if you did not steal what does not belong to you in the first place- siren.” You return the fever, glaring back at him, clenching the chair’s cushioning and pushing yourself to meet his face with yours.

“It was pretty,” you seethe, “and I am not a siren.”

He tuts, clenching your jaw harder between his thumb and forefinger, twisting your neck as though you were the ring you plucked from him in the ocean, “Little surface girls taking things that do not belong to them, claiming they belong to the moon.”

Mother forgive me, you silently beg, the rage allowing one last particle of energy to surface. You let yourself blow out a soft sigh that you hope, you pray, feels like peppering kisses all over his face and neck.

Peppering kisses turn into boiling beads of sweat pilling along his temples in mere seconds, your silent will urging his blood to cook beneath you. Boiling blood and a dark, unearthed lust surfacing in the form of a longing gaze and heated skin. His grip molding soft, lips parting.

“Return tomorrow, and I will answer your questions,” whatever sultry notes left in your voice bellow in his stomach, your eyes hooded, skin glowing as you summon the moonlight to cast against your goose bumped skin.

Bend to me by the order of the moon, bend to me and go home.

He longingly looks over your moon-kissed cheeks between his hand, down to your collar bones, the dip of your chest begging to pour out of your small tank top, tracing your navel with his eyes and they linger on the embroidered panties, your throw pillow long gone on the floor once you sat up fully to fight for yourself- for your pizza- tonight.

But because the way he was returning your devilish look, you might not be hungry for just pizza.

Bend to my will, sweet king. Let me continue my night, you may question me in the morning.

And then he has the audacity to reel back and laugh, letting you jerk away at the expense of your own mortification.

Heaven forbid, it didn’t work.

Dark red embellishes your cheeks, your nose, your neck and chest. Blotchy.

Your cooler hands find your cheeks, urging them to quiet, and you curl back into your chair. Looking down at your newly polished toes and back up towards him with pure fury, you couldn’t feel more humiliated.

The moon did not let you win.

There is no victory, no satisfaction when you are angry, she murmurs, synchronizing the gods movements as he lifts your chin again. It is gentle, testing. You are met with a curious, cautious, nevertheless impenetrable stare. His eyes travel between your cheeks, watering eyes, your pink, pouty lips.

“I will return in the morning, when the sun rises.” He promises with a nod, “hopefully you will be as enchanting as you are described in the books with a full stomach and long nights rest.” There is a soft laugh, the god not yet letting go of your face, observing the pink splotches of shame along your neck. “I did not think the definition of moon children would be so literal.”

You could not manipulate this man, and he is calling you a child.

You are too angry, too tired, too defeated to rebuttal that you are the goddess, the justice, the love and power of the moon.

He did not ask for his ring back when he let go of your face, gathered his spear, and took flight from your open balcony window, giving you another short, determined once over.

A loud groan escapes you as the transparent, pink-hued curtains sway with the wind.

You want to chuck that ring out of that very window, you decide.

Before you went to bed, you ate a whole box of stuffed crust pizza.

He kept his promise.

After failing to have a good night’s rest, tossing and turning, waking with cold sweats and dreams of cascading down a rabbit hole, you understand why your sleep was disrupted in the early morning.

There he sat, across from your bed in another lounge chair seemingly miniature while he shuffles about. He twirls one of your small shell in his hand, and it seems as though he took a good chunk of time out of his night to look through nearly all of your trinkets.

You sigh and roll over in your bed away from the man in the chair, pulling the duvet over your head. A groan reverberates through the sheets when you shove your face into the surface of the mattress.

This is not how you imagined your morning after East Hampton. You allow yourself to daydream for a moment, pretending you wake in the sun alone, stretch, cum with one of your previous vibrators, and make an omelet with the mushrooms you got from the market just the other day. Cheese and mushrooms and eggs, maybe a coffee, maybe a chai.

With a final groan to ground you, you flip the covers and force yourself to sit up. Your braids are tightly wound, the natural lighting from the window causing your hair to glow and your freckles to surface and sparkle. From your tank top, a large tshirt covers you, fabric folding over your stomach and thighs, barely covering your underwear.

Should you say hi? Should you act like he’s not there and get on with your morning routine?

You decide the latter, swinging your legs to hang off the of the bed and scoot for your feet to touch the floor. Your arms raise, and you stretch, looking towards the sky as you silently thank the moon for allowing you to see another beautiful morning, letting the gratitude bathe you.

He simply stares.

You let him as you wander into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

There is no way you’ll be less than presentable in front of a god, you whisper to the moon as your examine your small closet. Your eyebrows furrow- you cannot remember a time you contemplated looking presentable for someone else.

You can hear the moon giggle as you contemplate wearing one of your prettiest dresses that you specifically use for full moon nights. Or the new moon? What kind of energy are you bringing into this conversation?

Energy, your lips quirk. May he be enamored, for it is not about the dress but jewelry that adorns you.

You place yourself in lacy garments, a shimmer of silver and a soft green, puffy-sleeved, translucent blouse and lightly washed, high-waisted jeans. Matching, lacy socks and a silver necklace with a curled shell.

Glamoured rings slide themselves onto your fingers, and you inspect the finery wrapped around your flesh with a grin. Silver and gold bands with crystals wired around them and dipped into moon water and rose oil bound to convey any man to serve you. Hopefully a god, too.

Gold glitter smears across your eyelid, your cheekbones and a tap on your nose. Clear mascara and brow gel brushes its way on as you glow at yourself in the mirror.

Wetting your hair and re-curling your golden ringlets with a serum, you place two pearly clips to push aside the front pieces of your hair on each side, framing your face in the most pleasing way.

Terrifyingly beautiful.

I am dreamy, I am translucent, I am a child of the moon.

With a deep breath and another prayer to the moon, you’re gliding out of the bathroom.

May the moon bless this day.

“I’m hungry,” you state as your feet patter towards him sitting in the chair, his body did not move an inch, now holding one of your hair clips. You stand in front of him, nearly at eye-level. Perplexed, angry, annoyed, curious, lustful- all the emotions you could sniff out as he gave you a slow, deliberate look over.

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You breathe, refraining from twirling your fingers together. Asking, not taking, was not a talent of yours. It makes you blush, makes you sweat.

“Tell me how you serve your moon while you eat.”

You find yourself agreeing with the slightest of smiles.

@angeli-fucking-cat <3

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor fanfiction #tenoch huerta namor #namor smut #namor imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel universe #marvel headcanons #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction #my wreck this journal #writing #i hope so so much u enjoy #again.. dunno where to go from here! lemme know how you feel #if u got ideas plz send them my way

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rougepancake · 11 months

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All I ask of you

Ft. Gyutaro x Afab!Reader

Phantom of the opera au

Warnings: Yandere themes, slightly ooc Gyutaro. Not proofread. Listen to the soundtrack while reading. Enjoy!

Summary: He’s hideous. Hideous and alone. And he wants you more than anything.

Forever.

Gyutaro has been watching you for what’s felt like forever.

He watched you grow up in the opera house. He has heard your beautiful voice sing the melodies of the various plays you’ve performed. He’s witnessed you dance and play with your friends for so many years now.

And it was beginning to drive him insane.

You just knew of his presence, not of his entire being. You thought he was an angel, when he was, in fact, far from being considered such a divine being.

But you didn’t know any better.

He was front and center at all of your shows, hiding in plain sight so you wouldn’t figure him out. He truly loved the way you sounded up on the stage, and how your glorious presence lit up the room whenever you entered. It was as if you were a ray of sunshine finally breaking in and shining into his mundane world, causing him to feel things that were quite foreign to him.

Seeing you perform was not enough. He needed you. He needed to feel your skin against his in a dance that was only performed by two people who were maddeningly infatuated with one another. It plagued his thoughts, being all that he could think about for days.

And then, he had his moment.

“Sing for me, angel of music.” He whispered from behind the large mirror of your dressing room. It was littered with various bouquets from your admirers, and the colors only accentuated your features further.

You had been doing your vocal warmups, and the sudden voice had startled you, resulting in your voice cracking horribly.

“Angel? Is that you?” You rose from your seat and walked towards the mirror. It was an innocent question, simple, really, but it sent Gyutaro into a spiral.

“Yes, my dear.” His voice was raspy, and he was hidden from your sight, silently urging you to come closer to the mirror. He spoke with urgency in his tone, and his breathing sounded strained. He almost sounded… desperate…

“Angel, did you see my performance tonight?” Your eyes lit up as you spoke, and you couldn’t keep your excitement hidden. While you couldn’t see him, you hoped he could see you. It made you happy, after all.

He’s been with you your whole life.

“Come closer to the mirror, Y/n.” He beckoned, and his figure came into view. He moved as if he were your reflection, unsure and anxious, but he looked into your eyes with such determination that it only excited you further. “Let me take you away.” His hand extended to you, and you felt inclined to reach out and take it.

Oh how you wanted to run away with him, regardless of the doubts that crept up in the depths of your mind. You thought you knew him. He was an angel, after all. He’s guided you your whole life, and has yet to lead you astray.

“Take me away, angel.” You whispered and took his hand, shivering at how cold it was against your skin.

And take you away he did.

He took you away and refused to look back, out of fear that he’d wake up and see that it was all a dream. His grip on your hand was tight, his bony fingers interlaced with your own as he led you through many tunnels and passageways that you didn’t even know existed until now.

“Where are you leading me, angel?” Your voice was filled with awe, and you sounded as if you were filled with such a childlike wonder that you forgot to be afraid of what might happen to you.

“Somewhere safe.” He answered shortly. “Somewhere where there’s no need to hide behind stupid masks and pretty faces.” He said the words with such disdain in his voice that you couldn’t help but feel bad.

But then his mask fell to the side, and he turned to look at you.

Dread filled you, causing you to freeze in place behind him. It was a fear unlike any other, and you couldn’t help but stare at the various marks and scars that graced his features.

His eyes lit up in pain as he stared at you, finding that his words were failing him. However, he couldn’t give up now. He had to take you with him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t.

You were past the point of no return.

#IF YOU GET THE LAST LINE I’LL KISS YOU #demon slayer #yandere gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x reader #yandere gyutaro #gyutaro #gyutaro x you #demon slayer fanfic #x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagine #kny x reader #kny

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endthedream · 10 months

Text

Teaser

pairing: siren!haechan x human!reader (she her)

summary: Insanity isn’t what she expected to receive when she joined her father and his crew on an expedition, full of men who think she isn’t capable of anything. But it’s all that she got after seeing nothing but endless water every single day. Maybe that’s why her mind started imagining a strange boy who finally shows her the appreciation she deserves. Maybe that’s why she ignores the way she can’t escape the trance he puts her in whenever he sings a melody for her. Or maybe everything is real, and the boy isn’t who he pretending to be.

words: 10-12k

story colour: green

release date: Friday 8th, 2023

click here to go to the finished story

August 27th, 1878

Day 50 on sea

I am losing my mind.

This can’t be real. I am writing this down to make sure I am wide awake and not dreaming.

I woke up from a noise. At first, I thought I was imagining it, because lately I’ve been imagining a lot of things. I wanted to go back to sleep, being exhausted from, well, doing absolutely nothing all day long, but then I heard it again.

It wasn’t just a noise. It was a melody, a very beautiful one. It sounded like the gateway to heaven, like it was sung by angels. And it made me feel drowsy.

I knew I needed to rest more, but something about this melody pulled me in. It made me forget the throbbing pain in my body and the events that happened days before. All it made me want to do was reach it, engrave it into my skin. It made me want to never hear anything else.

I was in a trance, no thoughts inside my head anymore.

So, I got up, walked out onto the deck of the ship to find out where this melody comes from. But when I reached the deck, I didn’t expect to see a boy sitting on the railing.

But it wasn’t an ordinary boy. Oh, no. Not like the ones I’ve seen in my town growing up. I can’t describe him in any other way than captivating. His jet-black hair softly swayed in the night wind, covering his eyes every few seconds. His cheeks adopted a soft rosy color from the coldness, contrasting the tan of his skin. And his eyes were almost as dark as the night sky.

I don’t know why I stared at him for such a long time, and I don’t know why he let me.

“You’re here.” Those were his first words. The first time I heard his voice. A voice that made time stop for a moment. I couldn’t hear the waves crashing against each other anymore, or the cracking of the old wood the ship was built with. I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat pumping against my chest. All I could hear was him. “I was waiting for you.”

“Who are you?” That was not what I wanted to ask him at that moment, but the sane part of my brain must have sensed that something wasn’t right. Something about the way my body reacted to this strange man was dubious.

“Haechan.”, he spoke with a soft voice, turning his body so that he fully faced me. A smirk was placed on his lips, only intensifying his tantalizing physique. “And you are?”

“Y/n.” My name came out in a mere whisper, fearing that my voice might have broken if I spoke any louder. I couldn’t stop staring at him, still having being sure that my mind was playing a trick on me or, well, still is.

For days no one has checked in on me, no one has talked to me more than five words. I’ve been on this ship for way too long seeing nothing but the endless nothingness of the sea. My mind has been plagued with recuring thoughts, never once having a quiet moment. Maybe this is the final sign. Maybe this is it. I am insane. So insane that I’m imagining a boy sitting on the rail of the ship just so that I have someone to talk to.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Reaching one hand out, the boy signaled me to come closer to him. Every part of my body longed to take his hand and sit on the rail with him, but doubts started to float my brain.

“What are you doing here? How did you get on this ship?” Haechan, as I learned his name, just chuckled, a low sound that was so different from his honey voice. He looked amused at my asking, almost like he was making fun of me.

“Why did you come out here, Y/n?” I remember frowning at him, clearly feeling upset that he chose to ignore my question and ask one of his own. I felt upset that this boy, which I probably made up in my mind, didn’t show any respect for me at all. He, just like the others, ignores what I have to say, and I didn’t want to get treated that way, not after what happened last time.

So, instead of answering him, I turned around, heading back to my bed. But before I could even take a step, the melody I heard earlier started again. All the thoughts that I had in my mind at that moment flew away and I was, yet again, caught in a trance. It was like I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to.

“It’s you.”, I whispered, but he still heard me. I knew that because the melody got louder, clearer. I closed my eyes, letting his voice enter every part of my body. I let it fill me up and shut me down at the same time. I let it rearrange my mind and mend my wounds, but I also let it cut me open and bleed me dry. I gave myself into the sweet penetration of his honey laced voice and wanted nothing more than to make all his wishes and desires come true. I would have given him the world if it was possible. My whole body felt like it was floating on top of a cloud, high up in the sky and there was no way of ever coming down again. I was trapped.

“Come closer.”, he murmured, voice deeper and almost impending.

“No.”, I quivered, suddenly scared of ever opening my eyes again.

“Please, Y/n.”, he pleaded, and I could nearly hear the desperation in his voice. “Just please look at me.” And so, I did. He was not sitting on the rail anymore, he was standing right in front of me. A small smile on his lips and one hand stretched out to me. “Come closer please. I don’t want anything else from you.”

And as I was about to take the step towards him, give in to his demand and the growing need inside of me to grant all his wishes, I heard a voice behind me, calling out my name and breaking the trance I was in.

“Y/n?”

#lee haechan #lee haechan x reader #lee haechan imagine #lee haechan imagines #lee haechan fluff #lee haechan nct #lee haechan nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #lee haechan nct 127 #nct dream x y/n #nct 127 x reader #haechan #haechan fanfic #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #haechan x you #haechan x y/n

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estrellami-1 · 1 year

Text

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

(Obviously I was severely sleep-deprived when I posted the last one; my note made exactly zero sense. I was trying to say I was going to be busy. Oops. 😂)

Eddie flicks his eyes to Steve, then back away. “Hungry?”

Steve chuckles. He’s whooped. He can’t even be mad about it. “Are you?”

Eddie offers him a half smile, cranes his neck to check the clock in the kitchen. “Not exactly.” A pause, then, like he suddenly remembers Steve’s a guest, “But help yourself.”

Steve smiles. “I’m good.”

Another glance at him. Another look away. “Want to head to my room?”

“Buy me dinner first,” Steve jokes, already moving to stand, offering Eddie his hand.

Eddie stares at his hand for a long moment. Shakes his head, accepts the hand.

Doesn’t let go on their way to his room.

He does drop it once they’re inside, door closed. Steve very carefully doesn’t feel anything. Just goes to sit cross-legged on the foot of the bed.

Eddie crosses the room, grabs his guitar from the corner, raises a brow at Steve in question. Steve nods. Eddie’s face smooths out some, loses some of the tension from beside his eyes and mouth.

He sits on his bed against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling, strumming out a melody that Steve is almost positive he knows.

Eddie looks so at peace like this. Steve could stare forever. Wants a picture, a painting, of this exact moment.

He’s well aware his internal dialogue is ridiculously schmoopy. He’s well beyond caring.

He’s hit with the sudden urge to reach out and touch, to share in this moment. Just as suddenly, he remembers what Eddie had said. “You want touch... you can come find me.”

He does. Kicks out a foot, places it so it’s just brushing one of Eddie’s knees. Eddie doesn’t react, beyond shifting so they’re pressed even more firmly together.

They sit like that, the sound of the guitar floating between them, for a few minutes. Or hours. Or years. Steve doesn’t know. Doesn’t care either, would gladly wither away to dust if it meant this moment would last forever.

Then Eddie starts singing, and Steve reevaluates everything. He’s heard Eddie sing before, but not like this. Not soft and private and open like this.

Steve is smitten. Besotted. Infatuated. All the synonyms. Eddie sounds like an angel.

Steve lays down, lets his head hang over the edge of the bed, and listens.

The song finishes, as songs do, and Steve whispers into the stillness. “Fuck.”

Eddie shifts. “What?”

“Just…” he shakes his head. “You sound… really good.” The words sound inadequate, but they’re all he has right now.

“Oh.” Eddie sounds like he’s blushing. Steve considers lifting his head to look, but he knows he’s blushing. Decides just to imagine it instead. “Um. Thank you.” Eddie strums another chord, very softly, pick barely tapping against each string. “It’s not what I normally do, but…” Steve imagines a shrug, bottom lip pulled between teeth. “Anyways. Thank you.”

Steve hums. “Play me another?” His face explodes in heat. He hadn’t meant to say that, to say it in that way. He’s opening his mouth to take it back, but Eddie beats him to it.

“Okay.”

Steve’s mouth shuts with a clack of teeth.

Eddie plays another. Then another. Then one the band’s working on.

Then his knee starts to bounce. Steve taps his foot against it. It stops. “What do you want?” Steve murmurs.

Eddie fidgets again. “There’s a song I’m working on…”

Steve sits up, winces at the rush of blood in his head, nods. “I can leave.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “That’s not what I meant. Just… it’s not gonna sound like a song yet. And I move a lot. But I don’t want to annoy you.”

Steve smiles softly, moving to lean against the headboard next to Eddie. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Eddie chuckles breathlessly. “Sure.”

“I think the fact that you can create something out of nothing like that is beautiful. And the form the creative process takes is beautiful, too.” Steve figures it’s his turn to be brave now. Doesn’t move his eyes from Eddie’s. Delights in the blush beginning to show on Eddie’s cheeks.

“Okay,” Eddie whispers after a minute. He’s still looking at Steve.

Outside the closed door, Wayne’s creaks open. Steve doesn’t realize until they jump apart that he’d been leaning in.

He’s aware of the two to tango phrase. Knows the fact that Eddie jumped away too might mean he feels the same.

But the world has burned for a lesser might. Steve sighs and smiles, privately, knows that hope might make everything crash and burn, knows that losing hope can ruin everything.

Steve sits. He watches. He quietly, carefully hopes.

Pt 13

Taglist:

@thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @the-redthread @tiny-enthusiast @thatonepotatochild @maya-custodios-dionach @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @vhelt @newtstabber @huskysarelife @singmeyoursimpsong @gaysonthefloor @darkwitchoferie

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #soft touch baby #Steve Harrington is obsessed #he’s allowed to be #I love these ridiculous boys so much #stranger things

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meetingthestarcatchers · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x gn!reader

Summary: An anxiety filled session in the office led Josh to help you calm down and talk it through.

A/n: this fic is based around something that happened to me today, and I feel like josh was the right type of person for this 🤭

Sitting in the studio, you were happily adding layers on top of the melody, and you were feeling motivated and inspired for the first time in a while.

However, your manager came in and asked to hear it, and you complied as you wanted to get another opinion on your creation. As he was listening carefully, you watched his face for any signs of his thoughts.

A minute or two passed, and he leaned over your shoulder and hit the space button, pausing the lyrical flow of the harmonies. You frowned in confusion as you heard him sigh from behind you.

"This isn't what we agreed on...this is nowhere near where I wanted it to be by today," He said, and you felt the familiar pang of anxiety in your chest. You hadn't felt creative at all in the past week and a half, and no ideas had come to mind until today.

"I know, but -" You started before he interrupted you.

"I better not hear any measly excuses come out of your mouth." You shut your mouth and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Play the guitar riff at the beginning and just repeat it," he told you, and you nodded and reached over for the acoustic guitar that was leaning against the desk and started plucking the strings. Suddenly, he was singing melodies over the top, and various strings of sentences were said, but you blocked them out.

"I can imagine a violin over the top instead," was the last sentence you heard properly. Once he finished, he patted your shoulder.

"I want to see you here every day for the next few days," he said, and you nodded, not answering in case your voice cracked and the tears escaped from your eyes. He left the room, and you started at the computer screen for a few seconds before breaking down.

You placed the guitar down aggressively and let the anxiety overcome your body. A knock sounded on the door, but it simply sounded like a buzzing in your ear, fitting in to the surroundings like a puzzle piece. Next thing you knew, familiar arms were wrapped around your shoulders, gently swaying you from side to side.

After five minutes of swaying and the sobs gently calming, the chair was slowly turned, so you faced the body whose arms were protecting you just a few moments ago. Josh's angelic face was smiling softly at you. He took your hand and walked you over to the couch that sat in the corner of the room and laid you both down so that you were resting your head on his chest.

His fingers tangled in your hair and his sweet voice was heard.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" He asked, and you shrugged, still trying to process your emotions yourself. He didn't say anything for a few seconds while he let you think.

"Frustrated, disappointed, and upset..." You mumbled, and he nodded in understanding. "It felt like he was trying to rewrite my entire song. It's my song, not his. I don't want or need his help," you said, feeling yourself getting riled up again and Josh's hand that wasn't in your hair stroked up and down your arm.

"Sometimes we may not admit it, but we all need help-" He answered calmly, and you opened your mouth to disagree, but he continued before you could. "I know you especially refuse to agree with me, but you know I'm right."

You sighed and nodded once and felt him kiss the crown of your head. "I'm so proud of you for the progress you've made, but would you like some advice on what to do?" He asked softly, and you nodded in response.

"Stay here for a minute, though," you said quietly, and he chuckled and nodded. "Of course, my love"

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fluff

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beeandheroddobsessions · 1 year

Text

You Stop My Heart (pt.1)

Pairing: Elvis x Black! Reader

Summary: Y/N L/N age 19, manages to make her way onto the louisiana hayride. Elvis Isn’t the only one who can cause a visceral reaction in the crowd. When he sees her, his heart stops.

Warnings: In future chapters, there will be heavy talk of race issues. Anxiety? 50s!Elvis (yes, i do consider that a warning). Nothing really in this chapeter.

A/N: Y’all don’t even know how im about to drag you through the weeds with this series! Happy reading!

Part 2

November 6, 1954

Nervous isn't the right word to describe how you're feeling right now; your heart is in your ass. It all started as a silly joke between you and your friend Mackenzie, who you dubbed 'Sister Mack' or sometimes just 'Mack.' Sister Mack and her family were the only white people that gave you the time of day.

You had been singing since you could form words. Everyone in the neighborhood was sure to let you know you had the loveliest voice around, and your mama had always been so supportive. She'd encourage you to sing to your heart's content. That's how you met Mack, around fifteen or so. She said she'd never heard someone sound so good.

Mack played the guitar and would often join you whenever you sang, adding an alluring melody to your vocals.

When she introduced you to her family, they were more accepting than you would've thought. 'Ma and pop' treated you like one of their own and supported you just as much as your folks.

Her brother, Greg, a tall, twenty-two-year-old, rambunctious man with fluffy brown hair and striking green eyes, had a love for percussion that you couldn't even begin to understand. He had no rhythm; half the time, he was just making noise on that drumset. Bless him. Eventually, you taught him how to play in time. That's when he joined you and Mack.

Valerie and Angel were Mack's older sisters. A sweet set of twins who absolutely adored you. They were great at harmonizing and loved the style of music you introduced them to. Over the next four years, the five of you managed to make it onto a local radio station. You wanted a heftier challenge though.

So here you all sit, about to shit yourselves. What you were about to do hasn't been done before. A black woman, or any black person for that matter, in a place like this? Unheard of. The strings your and Mack's family had to pull to get your name on the list were the only reason you hadn't hightailed it out of there.

Would you be throttled off the stage? Arrested? You didn't have a clue, but this was your only chance to advance in this business. All the money (and begging) spent to get to this point wouldn't go to waste.

"You guys ready?" Mack asks, "Sister Mack, I-I feel like I'm gon' drop. I-Is it hot in here? I'm burnin' up." You stammer out. She lets out a nervous chuckle, "It's just nerves, Y/N. We're gon' do fine." You nod your head in an attempt to convince yourself that she's right. You had gained a spot on the Louisiana Hayride, now was not the time to get cold feet.

Before your act, there was another. Some white boy in a suit that looked about two times too large; he wore eyeliner, and his hair had been slicked to perfection, save for the few strands that fell in his face. The thin layer of sweat that adorned his browbone and his heavy breathing let you know that he, too, was scared shitless.

The host introduced him as Elvis Presley. This 'Presley' boy expressed gratitude for being here with a painful stutter and a wavering voice. A few snide remarks are made, followed by chuckles here and there. You look away, disinterested, thinking he would be another country singer. You couldn't be more wrong. He starts playing; the song begins slow, his voice low and bouncy. "Oh baby, baby, baby..." You're uninterested again, just like that. But then the tempo shifts to something more upbeat.

You sit up a bit, brows raising and eyes widening as he bellows out, "Well... you may go to college, you may go to school, you may have a pink Cadillac, but don't you be nobody's fool." You don't even hear the rest; all you see is a man wiggling his hips in a way that sets a warm feeling deep in your belly. It feels wrong. Traditionally, people stay seated at these shows, not while he's up there. Women left and right pop up out of their seats, shamelessly forgetting about their boyfriends. Screams start as one and become many, soon filling the room.

His movements are nothing new to you, but his charisma sure is. You look on in amazement. The man in front of you makes your heart flutter, and as you look a little closer, you realize he's just so pretty. You wonder if he'd think the same of you. "Fat chance," You mumble out. Greg, somehow, hears you, "What do ya mean, Y/N?"

You don't want him to know you've been ogling too, "uh...how are we s'posed to top that? It's just a fat chance, is all." Val speaks up, "It ain't a competition, Y/N. Show a lil' gumption, and all eyes will be on you."

You shake your head with a smile, "I don't think gumption will save me this time, Val." Mack chimes in, "worked for that white boy, didn't it?" This makes you laugh, "fair enough, Mack, fair enough." Soon, Elvis finishes his set; he and his crew exit the stage. As they make their way back, he glances at you, eyes widening just a hair.

You don't even notice, too focused on battling your nerves. The host speaks up again, "Woo! Quite a show, huh, ladies? Alright, Well...next, we've got Y/N L/N and the Sound Of The South!"

The first to walk on is Greg, then sister Mack, then Val and Angel. Lastly, you grace the stage. It gets so quiet you could hear a pin drop. As you look out over the crowd, you see a mix of confusion, interest, and disgust. You don't let it phase you. You step up to the mic and take a deep breath.

Alright, here we go.

Taglist: @dumpsterhippie @tacozebra051 @prayerstopresley @pennyroyalcreep @18lkpeters @misspresley @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @dkayfixates @powerofelvis @presleyenterprise

#beeandheroddobsessions #50s elvis x reader #elvis x black reader #elvis presley x reader #black writers #black reader #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis fic #elvis imagine #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader

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whattheheckmidoriya · 2 years

Text

A Soldier's Lullaby

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 2,401

Genre: Fluff, comfort

Description: Restless as ever, Levi found it hard to fall within slumber's warm embrace. Luckily, his late-night awakenings have guided him to you— an angel with a honey-glazed voice and all the right words at your disposal, perfect to lull the insomniac back to sleep.

Author's note: It's finally here!!! It's been so long since I've written something, but I feel like this was such a sweet piece to help me get back into the swing of things! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!💖

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•

His mother used to sing to him as a kid.

Her singing wasn't anything extraordinary, but it was sweet and kind, and he loved the hushed melodies she used to coo into his ears until he'd fallen into the serenity of deep slumber. He remembers the nights he'd scoot a little closer into her embrace, seeking warmth; reaching out for safety. She'd sing to him then, serenading him with whispered lullabies until he surrendered himself to the pull of rest.

Levi remembered his mother like this— gentle, kind, and angelic in a world that didn't deserve her. He couldn't remember the words she once sang him to sleep with. Her tender lullabies were buried somewhere under the rubble of his fractured heart, aching to sink into his bones and flourish into something sweet and beautiful. He did, however, remember the tune her words carried out. The Captain often found himself humming along to the songs of his past, treasures that he so desperately clung to, as he busied himself with the stacks of paperwork that cluttered his desk. It made him feel a little bit more human, a little bit more like her.

He might've forgotten the sound of her voice, but he could never forget how her words made him feel. Nothing could ever make him feel safe the way she did, always so gentle and graceful when shooing his nightmares away at night with the hushed coo of a lullaby and a kiss to the top of his head. She was Humanity's Strongest.

Memories of her were fuzzy, but precious. He kept them close to his heart, safe where they could live on for just a little bit longer.

With a sigh, the Captain let his head fall back, closing his eyes to allow them a fleeting moment of rest. A weighted breath deflated his chest, his shoulders sinking as the aches of his bones settled deeper within him. Scarred hands were stiff with the hours of writing that strained them, relief spreading through his bones as his joints cracked and popped. Only when he opened his eyes did he realize how late it had gotten. The flame of his candle would be flickering to its end soon.

He frowned at the dying flame. Any other person might've taken the lack of illumination as a means to usher themselves to sleep, resorting to finishing the remaining workload the next day, but he wasn't any other person. Sleep wasn't a luxury he savored often, always just beyond his reach. It'd be cruel for him to entertain the idea of rest, fully knowing what terrors would await him the moment he squeezed his eyes shut.

With a pout of defeat, he grabbed his cup of tea, pressing it to his lips but grimacing as the drink slipped into his mouth. Cold.

"Damn it," Levi grumbled under his breath, his eyes stinging under the weight of exhaustion. With a tired groan, he pushed himself off his chair, abandoning his desk before grabbing his coat. He might as well grab a new candle while he's out making himself a fresh cup of tea.

The grounds were empty when he walked over to the mess hall, all cadets having retreated back to their quarters hours prior. Chilly winter air nipped at the Captain's face, tinting his nose and cheeks pink as he fastened the buttons of his coat. Nights like these, cold and quiet, reminded him of the times his mother held him just a little tighter, swearing to protect him from all harm— the chill of the night included. He smiled a broken little thing at the memory, missing her a little more that night than usual.

She'd scold him for being up so late. Levi huffed as he reached the kitchen, wasting no time setting the water to boil. He wondered what type of tea his mother would've liked. Something sweet? She certainly didn't have a taste for bitter things like he did. Tea wasn't a pleasure they could afford back in the Underground, but maybe she would've liked the drink as well had she ever had the chance to smile under the sun.

High-pitched whistling snapped the Captain out of his thoughts, and he quickly pulled the kettle away from the heated stove before sorting through tins of tea. Once he'd found what he was looking for, he set to work and it wasn't long until he was sighing in relief as the familiar aroma of black tea settled deep within his chest, easing its way into his lungs. The low temperatures of the night didn’t bother him as much now that his hands thawed under the comforting warmth of his cup, a new sense of tranquility loosening his shoulders as he pushed past the doors of the mess hall and into the training grounds.

Levi had no intentions of lingering outside for too long, knowing he still had much to do in his office. Still, he couldn’t help but stand under the moonlight as a sweet, soft voice flooded the air, carried by a cool breeze. Brows pulled together in curiosity, he instinctively followed the sound while being mindful of the fresh cup in his hands. It’d be a tragedy if it spilled. With ease, he navigated through the towering, twisted trees of the training grounds, each step silent and deliberate. As he pushed on, his heart ached with something as painful as it was beautiful. The voice pulled him in like a siren would its prey. He fell victim to how each honeyed word balmed over every sapling of common sense that sprouted within him; he let his guarded heart fall.

Familiarity thrummed through his chest, sinking into his veins and spilling down his fingertips. His breathing staggered, his lungs burning, unable to function properly as the words clinging to the air became clearer the nearer he got to their source.

He hadn't meant for it to happen, he didn't want it to stop. He hadn't meant for the twig under his boot to snap, hadn't meant for it to be so loud, so frightening. The singing stopped, the air now tense with uncertainty.

"Who's there?" Caution clung to those two words, though they held no malice. Levi sighed in relief upon realizing who he'd stumbled upon.

Moonlight bathed him as he stepped around a tree, the angelic sight easing the knot of anxiety in your stomach. "It's me," he raised a hand in mock surrender, the ther still nursing the fresh cup of tea.

Gaping at him, you fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves. You eyed him carefully, your gaze softening upon noticing the steaming cup in his hand. "Couldn't sleep?"

The Captain frowned but didn't look away from your glimmering gaze. "Not tired," a lie, he knew, but when understanding twinkled in your eyes, he knew that he didn't have to explain himself to you. "And you? Nightmares?"

You snickered, shaking your head. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips warily and he didn't miss the way your eyes flickered away just as something nostalgic flooded them. "No, not tonight," you said.

Levi hummed, but didn't push any further. He knew what you meant— knew you were much like him when it boiled down to horrible sleeping habits. It wasn't unusual for the Captain to bump into you in the forsaken hours of the early morning, hours that should've been spent resting but were instead full of restlessness and unease. Most times, however, he'd find you in the mess hall or lounging around the fire pits, not deep within the woods surrounding base.

"You won't get any taller standing there," you chimed, looking away from him and angling your face up to the sky. "Sit with me before your tea goes cold."

Levi grumbled a few curses under his breath, but didn't turn away from your invitation. Carefully, he lowered himself onto the plush grass. He didn't miss the way you smiled softly when his shoulder brushed against yours.

Silence settled itself comfortably over you both, with it an air full of ease and understanding that only you two could fall into. Leaves rustled along to the pull of a breeze, swiftly twirling in the air before cascading all around you. Not many stars dotted the night sky the way you had hoped, but the moon was bright and beautiful above you. It was more than enough.

Levi watched you quietly, sipping at the tea in his cup. He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment you entered his life, nor the moment you began to mean something to him. You were simply there one day and never left. Sometimes it became hard to remember his life before you, but he couldn't fathom the thought of spending the rest of his days without you. Such a thought didn't sit well in his stomach.

"You were singing," he commented. It wasn't a question, but curiosity still lingered in his tone. Lowering his gaze, he took another sip of his drink before speaking up. "I didn't know you could."

You huffed a low breath of amusement. "Because I never told you." Shaking your head, you continued, "It's not something I do often anymore— not after joining the Survey Corps."

Levi hummed, tilting his head at you. "You have a nice voice," His gaze didn't waver as he spoke. "You're not horrible at it." That got a laugh of surprise out of you, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep yourself quiet. Even when trying to muffle your laughter, your smile was as wide as ever, your eyes squeezed with joy. His heart ached pleasantly at the sight.

"Shit," you choked on a laugh, a hand clutching your heart as you tried to settle down. "Thanks for the reassurance."

He only shrugged, though the softened look in his eyes spoke volumes. "Reminds me of my mom," He hadn't entirely meant for you to hear that, but he continued when noticing the way you perked up. "It's comforting."

You smiled. Levi had told you about Kuchel before on a night much like this one, when neither of you could will yourselves to sleep and the exhaustion brought the rawest parts of you forth. Without much thought, your hand found his and you offered a gentle squeeze, your heart fluttering when he reciprocated the gesture.

Taking a good look at him, it was hard to ignore the darkened shadows under his eyes or how his eyelids fluttered heavily in a bitter battle for rest. You took a chance— a shot in the dark before bringing forth a hushed question.

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

At that, Levi's eyes widened, though he wiped the look away as soon as it came. A beat passed before he answered, and you could practically see him play around with possible answers in his mind.

"It's okay to say no," you reassured with a smile.

He shook his head. "That would be nice."

Carefully, he set his empty cup down and scooted closer to your side, the hesitation in the act eliciting a giggle from you.

You pulled him in, inviting him to lay his head over your lap, your fingers instinctively finding their place in his hair. Smiling down at him, you tilted your head. "Comfortable?"

"Yeah," he rasped, meeting your gaze.

Absent-mindedly, you played with his hair, not quite sure as to where to go from there. Nerves swirled within your stomach, lurching your heart into a quickened beat.

"You're supposed to sing now." Levi breathed, eyes heavy though twinkling with wonder.

Pouting, you playfully flicked his forehead. "Shut up, I'm thinking of a good song," Cupping one of his cheeks, you caressed his skin gently, feeling the tiny scars he bore under your touch. "You wouldn't know of any, would you?"

He didn't answer— not immediately, at least. Hesitation weighed on his chest, his fingers curling around the grass blades beneath his palms. A breath sunk his chest.

You didn't hear it at first, too enveloped in your own mind to notice. But it was warm and careful and sweet. A simple tune, old and familiar, rippled through his chest, thrumming within his throat. You felt him relax the further along he went into the song. He continued, as he did all those years ago while wrapped in his mother's embrace. He hummed now just as he had done then— softly and timidly.

Soon enough, your own voice followed the melody, each syllable spoken by your tongue a precious little thing he hadn't known he'd been yearning for. It felt right, he thought. The way each word was crafted and forged by your voice, the way they seeped through his ears and tickled his heart. It felt right.

Fluttering eyes peered up at you, and he swore the exhaustion was making him see things. The moon kissed your skin with so much grace, fierce and beautiful, illuminating your face in such heavenly manner. An angel. A star. A little cosmic wonder only he had the pleasure of witnessing.

Feeling his eyes on you, you met his gunmetal gaze, a giggle bubbling past your lips as you pushed through the lullaby. Delicate fingers traced over his skin; over his brows, down his nose and across his lips. His eyes dropped under the warmth of your touch.

As his eyes fluttered, his humming faded, sinking back down his throat. You sang, still, smiling down at him. You cradled his face oh so tenderly and he couldn't help but sigh in relief. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he last felt this safe.

"You're safe to sleep," you whispered into his skin, bringing his knuckles to your lips before pressing a kiss onto them. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Without much of a fight, he fell limp in your hold, his fingers squeezing yours gently before his breathing evened out. "Thank you," he rasped, his voice so tender and quiet you would've missed it if you hadn't been paying attention.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as the tension melted away from his muscles, his jaw slack under its own weight. He was so lovely. Gently, you smoothed out the little tension lines between his brows, humming in satisfaction when he moved closer to your stomach, burying his face in your belly.

"Goodnight, Captain."

•

🏷 Levi Ackerman taglist

@leviackermanmyhero245 @violet-19999 @celestair @ms-sin-city @ghostly-haunted @andrastesbeard @ikisstoga @izukus-gf @bluetima @lemonboi69 @aconstructofamind @figlia--della--luna @imjustasimpxd @notgoodforlife @bubsonnobx @a10vely-yutazen @just-sana @Loca-raccoon @Hjnhuh @geese-goose18

#shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi ackerman fic #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot levi #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi x you

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aoioozora · 7 months

Text

Liu Kang Tries Earthrealm Activities: The Karaoke.

Characters: Liu Kang, Johnny Cage

Content: singing, joking, memes, friendly LK and JC interactions

Photo credit: your mom

Note: Idk if anyone has done this before, but I thought it would be funny lol. Enjoy!

“Hey Liu Kang! We should totally go to the karaoke!” Johnny Cage exclaimed, barging into the room Liu Kang was in.

The fire god, not quite bothered by the disruption, patiently looked up from the scroll he was reading and stared at confusion at the actor, trying to process what he just said.

“What's a karaoke, Johnny Cage?” Liu Kang asked innocently, his glowing eyes gleaming with interest.

Johnny was about to look at the god with a “are you kidding me bruh?” look, but remembered that Liu Kang was a deity and wasn't fully familiar with Earthrealmer activities.

“You wanna find out?” asked Johnny, slapping his chest, puffed both with muscle and mostly pride, “Because,” he now sang, raising his arm in the air and slowly swiping it across him, “I can show you the world,”

Liu Kang, not understanding the reference and taking it literally, smiled. “And I created this world,” he said.

Johnny clicked his tongue at the other's incompetence in matters of cultural importance. “You say that, but know nothing of what Earthrealmers do in their spare time.” He taunted with a playful smirk.

Liu Kang smiled again. “That's why I can count on you to help me.”

Johnny laughed. “You came to the right person! Now, off to the karaoke we go!”

As the two men went, with Johnny leading, Liu Kang silently pondered and was intrigued by this strange sounding place that Johnny was so excited about. When they reached, Johnny booked a room for two hours and before they knew it, they were in a dark room with disco lights and a glittering above, a computer, and television screen. Across the television sat two couches and a table.

“Well?” asked Johnny, motioning at the room, “What do you think?”

Liu Kang stared confusedly at the room. He had seen all these things separately before, but all of them put together in one room made him wonder how they all worked together. Johnny, seeing his companion's reaction, brought him inside and showed him the ropes.

Johnny first chose a song; International Love seemed to be his first choice, since a video with the song and his face went viral on the socials, causing the song to be his unofficial theme song.

“You put it down like New York City! I never sleep! Wild like Los Angeles, my fantasy!”

Liu Kang watched carefully as Johnny sang his heart out and busted out some of his favorite dance moves. The disco lights went crazy on their own, and even in this high strung environment, he was calmly observing the modus operandi of a “karaoke session”.

When Johnny finished singing, he let out a heavy, but satisfied sigh and handed the mic to Liu Kang. “Your turn.” he said.

Liu Kang looked curiously at the object Johnny was handing him and remembered that it was a microphone which was handy in amplifying one's voice. He took it, and then looked through the computer screen in front of him, looking at the vast array of songs, none of which he knew.

After looking in vain for a song he knew, he asked, “Do they have Chinese songs?”

“Yeah! They got songs in all languages!” Johnny exclaimed and then showed Liu Kang where to find them.

When Liu Kang saw his native tongue on the screen, he felt at ease, and now put his all into searching for a good song. A lot of them looked like modern songs that hardly made sense to him, but one of them, an old song, caught his eye.

He declared he would sing it and stood up in front of the television screen where the lyrics were now showing up.

“Liu Kang! Liu Kang! Liu Kang!” Johnny cheered with a woop, egging him on to start singing.

He soon did, and Johnny was pleasantly surprised by the fact that Liu Kang's voice was so melodious and soulful. When he had thought of it, he had never really heard Liu Kang sing before.

Just as Johnny felt like he heard this song somewhere, Liu Kang sang the chorus with passionately,

“Xuě huā piāo piāo běi fēng xiāo xiāo, tiāndì yīpiàn cāngmáng,”

Johnny chuckled, immediately recognising it.

When Liu Kang finished his soulful number, Johnny asked him if it was his favorite song.

“Of course it is. There are very few songs I enjoy and this is one of them.” answered Liu Kang with a wide grin, feeling ecstatic after singing.

“I've a request for you to sing. It's also a Chinese song.” said Johnny with a mischievous smirk.

Liu Kang, happy to sing some more, eagerly asked Johnny which song he had in mind. Johnny had to keep himself from laughing as he made Liu Kang listen to it on his phone first.

“This is a good song! The singer is so kind as to make a song for sad people to feel happy again. Excellent choice, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang said approvingly. “I didn't know you liked Chinese songs.”

Johnny flashed an amused smirk, lying straight through his teeth, “Yeah, my recent obsession. I gotta promote my movies in China too, so, I gotta learn Chinese to up my social credits.” he shrugged, smiling. “You got the tune down?”

“Yes, I think I can sing it.”

He started singing the first stanza, and Johnny sat with feverish excitement for his favorite part of the song to come.

“Má hái guăn tā gàn má xīn lĭ yào jì de,”

Johnny smirked. It was coming.

Liu Kang took a deep breath and started singing the chorus.

“Nĭ shì nèi nèi gè nèi nèi, nèi gè nèi gè nèi gè nèi nèi,”

Johnny lost it. He started laughing hysterically, even falling over on the couch, holding his sides.

Liu Kang, startled by Johnny's sudden laughter, stopped singing. By this time, Johnny was wheezing, laughing, and coughing all at once. The singer's confusion and concern only added to the other's hysterics.

“Johnny Cage, why are you laughing?” demanded Liu Kang, now slightly annoyed.

“It's nothing!” Johnny said through his coughs as he wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling.

“Tell me why.”

“Ain't nothing but a heartache!” Johnny returned, his hysterics starting again, now louder than the music.

Liu Kang looked on, his confusion growing by the second. “Did I sing badly?” he asked.

“No! No, no, you didn't.” Johnny coughed repeatedly. “I just remembered something funny.”

“I want to know what it is.” insisted Liu Kang.

“Nah, I'm not telling you.” resisted Johnny. He was definitely not yet going to tell him that whatever he was singing sounded like a certain racial slur that started with the letter "n". He wanted to laugh at Liu Kang's innocence a little longer before revealing the truth.

Liu Kang sighed, deciding it wasn't worth his time to know. He was more interested in singing, and continued where he left off.

When the two hours were up, the two left the karaoke center.

“So, I see you had fun.” quipped Johnny in a slightly hoarse voice.

“I had the most splendid time, Johnny Cage. Thank you for showing me what a karaoke is.”

“Would you do it again?”

“Indeed, I would.”

Johnny smirked. “Now let's get some bing chilling!”

“Bing chilling?” Liu Kang looked with confusion at his companion once again, before realising what he said. “You mean bīng qílín, if you're talking about ice cream.” he corrected, “Johnny Cage, your accent and pronunciation are awful. If you're going to promote in China, you should do better.”

“Okay, okay,” Johnny groaned loudly, making a mental note to teach Liu Kang about memes later.

End.

My other MK fanfiction:

🌸 Johnny Cage sings you to sleep

🌸 Kenshi does your hair

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #liu kang #johnny cage #mk fanfic #mk liu kang #mk johnny cage #mk headcanons #mortal kombat johnny cage #mortal kombat liu kang #mortal kombat fanfiction #mk fandom #mortal kombat fandom #fanfiction #fanfictions #aoioozora writes

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