#translation: my love. sky. treasure

[passionpeachy]

Extremely biased but affectionate names feel nicer in Spanish like “mi amor” “cielo” “tesoro” etc

[satellite-evans]

Pebbles of love

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his fiancée spend a romantic day at the beach, finding pebbles that match each other's eye colors <3

Word count: 1k

Warnings: pure fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Benedict Bridgerton had always been a lover of art and beauty, and nothing in the world was more beautiful to him than his fiancée, Y/N. Today, they had planned a rare escape from the hustle and bustle of London society—a trip to the serene coastline, where they could revel in each other’s company without the watchful eyes of the ton.

The journey to the beach had been filled with lively conversation and shared laughter, their carriage rocking gently along the country roads. Benedict stole glances at Y/N as she looked out the window, the sunlight casting a warm glow on her features. Her hair, a cascade of silk, shimmered in the light, and her eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation.

As they arrived at the beach, the salty sea breeze greeted them, tousling their hair and filling their lungs with the invigorating scent of the ocean. They discarded their shoes and socks, delighting in the sensation of the cool, damp sand beneath their feet. The beach stretched out before them, a pristine canvas of soft, golden sand and scattered pebbles, with the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

Benedict looked at Y/N, her face illuminated by the sunlight, her eyes reflecting the endless blue of the sky above. He marveled at how lucky he was to have found her. She was his muse, his inspiration, the very essence of beauty and grace. Each moment spent with her was a treasure he held close to his heart.

“This place is perfect,” Y/N said, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve always loved the sea.”

Benedict smiled, his heart swelling with love. “I thought you might,” he said. “I wanted to share something special with you, away from everything else.”

Y/N reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You always know exactly what I need.”

They walked along the shoreline, the rhythmic sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They spoke of their dreams, their future together, and the adventures they hoped to share. Benedict felt a sense of peace, a certainty that with Y/N by his side, he could face anything.

“Benedict, look at this one!” Y/N exclaimed, holding up a small, smooth pebble that glistened under the sunlight. It was a pale blue, almost the exact shade of Benedict’s eyes. She smiled, her heart swelling with the simple joy of the moment.

Benedict took the pebble from her hand, inspecting it. “It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice warm and soft. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

Y/N blushed, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink that Benedict found utterly enchanting. “Well, aren't you a charmer,” she said, though her smile betrayed her pleasure at his compliment.

“I try my best,” Benedict replied, slipping the pebble into his pocket. He felt a warmth in his chest, a sense of completeness he had never known before her. “But now I must find one that matches your eyes.”

They continued their leisurely stroll, eyes scanning the ground for the perfect stone. Benedict was determined, his artist’s eye sharp as he examined each pebble they passed. The task was more than just a game; it was a way to connect, to see each other in the world around them.

As they walked, Benedict found himself lost in thought. He remembered their first meeting at one of the many Bridgerton balls, where she had captivated him with her wit and charm. He had been smitten from the moment she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Their courtship had been a whirlwind of stolen glances, secret rendezvous, and whispered confessions of love. Every step of the journey had brought them closer, solidifying the bond they now shared.

Finally, he spotted one—a deep, rich brown, with flecks of gold that caught the light in a way that reminded him of Y/N’s eyes. It was perfect, just like her.

“Here,” he said, presenting his find to her with a flourish. “This one.”

Y/N took the pebble, holding it up to her eyes to compare. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice soft with emotion. She looked up at Benedict, her heart full. “You really think my eyes look this beautiful?”

Benedict smiled, drawing her close. “No, I don't,” he said. “I think your eyes are far more beautiful, my love."

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach, collecting pebbles and shells, laughing and talking, sharing dreams and memories. Every moment felt like a brushstroke on the canvas of their love story, vibrant and full of life. Benedict felt a profound sense of happiness as they played like children, unburdened by societal expectations.

As the sun began to set, they sat together on a large rock, watching the waves. Benedict couldn’t help but reflect on how much his life had changed since meeting Y/N. She had brought color to his world, a sense of purpose and joy he had never thought possible.

“Do you know,” Benedict said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think this is my favorite place in the world now.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Because of the beach?”

Benedict shook his head, kissing the top of hers. “Because of you,” he said simply. “Wherever you are, that is my favorite place.”

Y/N smiled, closing her eyes and savoring the moment. “And you are mine, Benedict Bridgerton.”

They continued to sit in silence, the sound of the waves mingling with the rhythm of their breaths. Benedict held her a little tighter, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his side. It was in these quiet moments that he felt the depth of his love for her, a love that was as constant and enduring as the ocean before them.

As the last light of the day faded into twilight, they stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pebbles they had collected lying beside them.

Benedict looked down at Y/N, her face serene in the fading light, and whispered, “You are my greatest masterpiece.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “And you, Benedict, are my heart’s truest desire.”

With that, they sealed their love with a kiss, as timeless and beautiful as the sea before them.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (II)

AU MASTERLIST || PART III

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: Blood, abduction, violence, intense gore, death, swords & firearms, angst, hurt/comfort, nakedness, etc.

A/N: Guys, whatever you do, don't imagine Price in a white tunic holding Mermaid you in one arm and weilding a sword in the other. I'm frothing at the mouth.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You sit on your black rocks once more, the darkening sky warning of an oncoming storm that you can feel seeping into your bones. In your loose grip, you fiddle with John’s necklace. 

He’d given it to you only recently as a gift, seeing as you enjoyed the shininess of it so much, and you’d taken great pleasure in keeping it around your neck. Out of all of your treasures and trinkets, somehow these measly metal discs had become your favorite. The necklace is smooth under your caress, and you look down at it adoringly, eyes soft and lips curved with delicate affection. 

The cove, as always, was quiet above the call of seagulls and the lapping of waves; the whispering ripples from your tail as it sways under the water. You had gotten content with this—the silence. Because you knew it would be filled by the low gravel of an accented voice soon enough; would be swept away by the chuckles you could wring from beard-hidden lips. 

John was something to look forward to, and you loved the way he looked at you. 

Water hits the top of your head. 

Blinking out of your honeyed thoughts you look up to the crying sky as small slaps of droplets slide across your cheeks. Lashes flinch at every motion, and you glance back to the empty cove before lowering the necklace to your scaled lap. 

Confusion slithers in like an eel to your heart as your eyes slide over the growing waves. The yawning mouth of the entrance sits abandoned of any small fishing ship. 

For three, beautiful, sand-covered, months, John had never missed a day to come and see you. Rain or Sun.

A prick of a sharp fish's spine enters your brain. The rain comes down now in sheets. Lightning and thunder fight, and if you look close enough, the remnants of ancient lightning birds battle overhead with a flurry of black wings and their insatiable need for blood. Yet, still, your eyes stay frozen on the cove entrance as the water rises and rises. 

With a thinning of your lips and the violent pushing from the torrent as it swallows your rocks, you clench your hands over John’s necklace and push off your perch with a shove of your palms. 

Water encompasses you, scales dull, and fins limp as the general calmness from the encompassing water holds you in a constant sway. Your brows furrow.

Why wasn’t he here? You ask yourself, sinking among the seaweed and the schools of quick fish. Concern mingles with hurt. Do…do you think he’s alright? 

Human ways were still confusing to you, even if John had been helping you understand them and giving little clam-shells of information. But they seemed…like violent folk. Angry and selfish, from what John had said about their wars and squabbles. The thought of your fisherman potentially being in danger on land was terrifying to you. 

There wouldn’t be anything you could do if that happened.

Your fingers tighten around the strap of his necklace as you stare at the surface, back lightly hitting the bottom of the cove with a puff of sand. Crabs scatter as your tail twitches, your lungs sighing in their own special way. 

John can take care of himself, you reason. He’s just a little late is all. 

John’s never late. Your face creases, but you stuff the thought down, twisting on your side and bridging the piece of jewelry to your lip—kissing it once as sand digs into your skin. Holding the fisherman's property to your pounding heart, you close your eyes and wait as any lonely and loyal Merwoman would; tail held in close and the reverberations of a rabid downpour above you.

—

You wake up to the darkness of night. Blinking, you sigh to yourself and move a slow hand to rub at your eyes. After a moment of fatigued confusion as to why you weren’t in your cave, you realized why you had been out here in the first place.

John. 

Arms pushing you up, your mind fights to wake itself, laced with algae and fatigue. How long have you been asleep? Has the storm stopped? Surely you hadn’t slept the entire day away. You pull the fisherman's necklace over your head as you stare at the sand below you. No fish were slipping past besides one that brushes your tail, which you found odd, but didn’t think much of it. 

Shaking your head, you feel sluggish and put the necklace back on with a huff. You worry what John will think of you perhaps missing his late visit and smile slightly in humor. 

The fish brushes your tail again. 

Scales shimmering, you turn with an annoyed pull to your lips, fins scraping something hard and rough even as it’s saturated by the water of your cove. When you spot it, not only the rope but the shadow of the large hunting ship above you, your body drains of any life that had once lived in your lungs. It wasn’t nighttime. 

Eyes widening at the loop that was parading around your tail, you don’t have time to move before it tightens with a force that leaves your mouth opening in a bubbled scream; ruthlessly jerking your body along the seafloor. 

Desperately, your hands rip along the rocks and weeds of the bottom of the cove, getting torn and shredded in their soft nature as easily as paper. Your body smacks into every little object with a rattling to your bones that makes you sob. Red saturates the water as you’re manhandled in long and steady intervals back and up. 

No amount of rampaging your tail does can break the rope, and with a last-ditch effort as the sandy floor gets farther and farther away, you twist around and tear at the woven cord with sharp nails. Adrenaline pumps, pupils tiny and panicked. 

No! No, not like this! You can imagine the pain of it now—the hooks and the ripping of scales from your supple flesh. Even now the tiny ones under the dig of the vice are peeling away in long strings of red to disappear behind you as you’re thrust upward. They’re delicate, don’t these monsters understand? They’re beautiful and treasured and they’re destroying them!

You scream in pain at the pulling of your spine; a large creaking in your muscles. 

But as you gain a small sense of feral hope when the rope begins to fray from your grip, the iron net squashes any belief of surviving. 

It slams into you as John would cast his own for his prey—but this one is larger and full of cruel, curved, spikes. Is this what your parents endured? What the harpies had meant? The iron sinks far quicker than rope, and it traps you in a dome of hell before you can mutilate yourself out of the maw.

Oh, Gods, it was going to peel your skin away.

True fear pounded in your breast, and with a cry of John’s name from under the water, you watched with horror as the net descended onto you and your bloody wounds.

They drag you above waves and the first thing you do is thrash and wail so loud the seagulls shriek in surprise. There’s crimson staining the waters sloshing at you with combative ease, the violent storm from before now a light slapping at add to your fear. In the wake of open air, the curved spikes dig into your flesh as easily as a unicorn’s horn can penetrate a wyvern’s armor. Skin everywhere is assaulted and peeled to a tautness of bodily torture. 

Oh, and your precious tail. 

It hurt so badly, like nothing you had ever experienced before. 

“John!” You scream as your body strikes the side of the large ship, voice cutting out and leaving a bawling yell behind. Your form was being pulled by steady hoists and barked orders. 

All around you can hear laughing—joking. Loud exclamations of approval. 

You’re sure they’ve dislocated your tail right at the joint, how could they not have? The ream of their strong arms and ruthless greed. Oh, your tail, your precious, beautiful tail.

Long streams of salty tears fly down your dripping face; arms pushing the spikes away from your neck and face with futile action. The net and rope were your earthly graves. 

They slam you to the deck like a fish. 

Jerking and slapping around, your arms hit the wood with a bird-paced heart. The iron rattles and keeps you down like a weight. 

Brokenly gasping through loud cries, the sudden jeering faces from all around leave your fear all-consuming. 

They were ugly—broken teeth and sun-destroyed skin. Eyes that bugged and scars that could be from either a sword or a Strix’s claws. More than likely it was from meager squabbles with crewmates. But you balk back nonetheless, terrified and bleeding profusely. 

They were going to rip you to pieces. 

Inside your chest, your lungs are rising and falling quickly, and the hands that glide along your form make you want to burn your skin off. They grip at you, yanking you around as your hair gets caught in the gaps between the iron. With nail and tooth your bite and claw, but how many were there? Ten? Twenty? 

There’s uproar and more jokes as you fight back; body lifted and spikes torn out of skin as you arch your back and howl in agony. Their hands are not John’s. They don’t caress your smooth skin with reverence or holiness—this is cruelty. This is a sadistic pleasure. 

“Isn’t it our lucky day, Lads?!” A high and grating voice bellows out, and finally free of the net, all you can do is cry and flip your tail uselessly along the polished wood as they throw you down. Your vision blacks and slowly comes back—hair matted and skin slick with more than water.

It hurts to breathe too much. Whimpering, your cheek presses itself into the deck as footsteps take someone closer.

“Holy God, would ya look at that down there, eh? A true maiden of the sea,” A thunderous belt of achievement from everyone leaves you flinching, eyes tight shut to try and focus on anything but the excruciating way your skin throbs and gushes blood. “Though we’d have gotten all of them by now!” 

Haggard laughs and rotted smiles. 

A hand snaps to wrench your face upward, and you yowl and grasp at your head as your delicate strands go tight.

“Now who’s the little beauty we have here?” Whoever this man was, he had no standing on John. On your Fisherman. 

Loose skin and an age-rotted tunic, a belt at his waist holding a scabbard with a gold sword and twin pistols. He had only one eye—brown as a pile of mud—with a black eyepatch over the other. 

Your fluttering lashes took in a cracked-lipped grin of approval; whether at your battered appearance or the nature of your species, you knew not. But you didn’t like the way he was glancing at your tail as if it was made of gold one bit.

“Lords above, did ya have to be so brash, Lads?” Spittle slaps your face and you fight again with the hands in your locks to get away. The man’s hold jerks your face back and forth until you stop with bile building in your throat. “Wrecked her silky skin, you did!”

Being thrown back, your skull slams the deck before you hurl your guts in a sputtering of air and crimson. Many laugh and kick at your already broken scales. You grit your teeth and refuse to cry out.

“Get ‘er tied up and in the Hold for storage. If the scales are good enough, we’ll peel ‘em tomorrow.”

“Peel?!” Your face whips into a twisted glare, and pain leads to fast anger; wrath, even. The men grow gradually silent at your outburst and the leader comes to a slow stop—his back to you. “How dare you?” You gasp out, hands pushing your body slightly backward until the agony makes you stop with a lip-bitten whine. “How dare you do this to me? What have I done to you and your men? You’re nothing but senseless cowards who shy at something that lives its life differently! Am I only a pile of coin for you?!”

Your blood runs over the deck and seeps into the grain. Staining it with your memory and presence like a ghost that’s not yet dead. Loose scales shimmer and drip red. They were damaged and dull—your flesh was mangled. 

The leader turns back and smirks with blackened teeth. “More than a pile, Little Dearie. Far more. And if those hooks had been kinder, the King would have loved a beauty like you in his collection.” A look is slid down your body with a knowing chuckle.

He stalks off and you peel back your lips to say more, but a stained rag is shoved into your mouth instead, shutting up your rageful screeches and any hope of a peep of potent song despite not knowing these devils’ names.

By the time they chuck you in the Hold, body bouncing along the wood, and shut the hatch with a reverberation of wood, you had managed to rip someone’s ear clean off and break another’s arm; but there was only so much you could do. They had bound your hands behind you with a blow to your spine.

Curled up and longing for the sea, for John, you hold the only thing you have left. 

Silver discs on a chain, the metal smooth and the only thing now shining. You feel it hit your breastbone and sob as the headache of blood loss begins to set in. Laughter echoes from above your dark prison.

—

John saw the blood in the water before he saw the scales being pushed back and forth on the beach. Caught in that gentle push and pull now that the storm had ceased beyond a light drizzle—bright and reflecting the misty sun; far more vibrant than a fish or a sea serpent. But the blood. 

Christ, there was blood in the water. 

Blue eyes stare blankly at the sea-foam at the shoreline, red and bubbling, John’s pupils small and the lashes held back even as a salty breeze hits them with a burn. At his sides, his hands slowly close into fists. 

Jumping off the side of his ship, the man lands in thigh-deep water, gritting his teeth before he shoves his way to the sand and black rocks of land. He doesn’t know what drives his actions, or why he’s doing this, but with quick hands, he snatches up what scales he can find and keeps them in his palm; mind on fire. 

Anyone could see the fury in John’s gaze—a growing hatred for what was just beyond sight. When he has all he’s able to carry, he wades back through the water and gets himself back atop his boat easily with one hand. 

Walking quickly and soaked, he pushes aside a small cloth atop a barrel; seeing a gold box hidden under it. He opens it deftly, and while he puts the damaged and torn scales inside, John glances at the expensive and elegant twin cuff bracelets that sit in blue velvet. 

When he had been away buying them for you, he should have already been here. Wasted time.

I left her here alone. Knowing what could happen if I did. A growl bounces under his beard, face going red with anger. The two of you had quickly become enraptured with each other—drunk off flesh and touch like non-sentient animals. 

And something had taken place while he was away. You were gone, the fisherman knew. The water wasn’t as clear, the fish were terrified, and the blood alone proved this—the scales. This wasn’t an accident.

And it had something to do with that ship he’d seen on the horizon with his narrowed eyes not minutes prior. The Captain was slowly re-taking over the man.

“Fuck!” John curses, teeth bared as he spins and readies his sails. With violent pulls at the ropes, letting the mainsail shift down in a flurry of white sheets, he turns the vessel around in no time at all. It was as if Poseidon himself was pushing the ship forward to that small dot on the ocean line, far, far away. 

Deadly purpose bled into his heart, and the early afternoon sun forced him onward with hellfire following at his heels. He re-wraps his gift in the meantime, only taking a single scale from inside and putting it in a small pouch on his belt before walking to another barrel and pausing. This one was older, more sun-bleached. 

John deserted the service years ago, but not long enough to forget how the world of men can be. With a grunt on his thinned lips, the brunette rips the top off and grasps inside. 

With an experienced hand out came a sheathed Cutlass, the leather of the handle worn and indented to his very grip. It found a place on his belt, and John wasted no time in making the Flintlock pistol follow. 

A fisherman he may be, but in his blood John would always be a killer. He knew how to fight dirty and fight well—carve skin and not flinch at the sparks of gunpowder. There was no hesitation as to what he would do to get you back. 

In his chest, there was a weight of rage and concern as he glared at the far-off Hunter’s ship.

“What the hell have you done to her?” He growls, beard back and eyes narrowed. His hands clenched and unclenched with loathing. 

John’s thoughts go to the horror stories he’d heard about Merfolk and them getting caught in the open ocean, when he’d found you he had been surprised. He felt his heart beat faster when you were around, his blood would spike with love and affection. 

It was strange, unheard of, but he can’t stop it now that it’s happened. 

No one touched you with their cruel hands and lived. 

John didn’t like it, but he hung far enough away from the Hunter’s ship so that the cover of night hid him. Dark stars hung at his head, tunic blowing in the chilled breeze when the waves took him close enough—all was silent. Asleep. 

Lantern light slid along the waves, and with deft fingers, John anchored his ship with measured efficiency a small distance away. Looking over the side, the fisherman grunts under his breath and sets his shoulders. Without a single glance in hesitation, he slips silently off the deck into the water. 

Immediately, John kicks his legs and resurfaces with a puff from his nostrils, whipping his head to the side to dispel water. Making no sound, the man swims the distance between vessels, hearing the creak of the still and bulky form of the Hunter’s ship ten times his own sitting above him. 

“Fuckin’ bastards,” he grumbles to himself and thinks of your condition intensely. His heart hammers even in the clutches of the frigid waters. But beyond the insult, no other words needed to be spoken—the prior Captain was a man of action.

Violent Action.

John wades to the side of the wooden structure, the waves threatening to smash him tight into the hull and skin him against the barnacles, but he braces himself and grabs ahold of the knife at his belt, next to his cutlass. In his stupor to get to you quickly, he’d forgotten that his Flintlock would be completely useless now that it had been submerged in water. 

Grunting and trying to remain as quiet as possible, the man sets his blade into the side of the ship into the thin slits available. In his free hand, he takes up his cutlass and does the same. In a feat of impressive upper-body strength that leaves his muscles bunching and tensing—veins visible from the side of his neck—John huffs breaths as he climbs the ship one panel at a time. 

He groans and sends the blades back in at opposite intervals, the firm thunk-plunk, thunk-plunk, bouncing off the dark air as the moon shines bright. But no one awakens.

The Fisherman pulls himself up the side of the ship and swiftly ducts behind a pile of large crates on deck to gather himself, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“C’mon Sweetheart,” he mutters, “hold on just a little longer.” Duel wielding both weapons, narrowed eyes look across the open area—the stain of blood all along the wood. Glimmering in the low light catches John’s fiery gaze. 

Scales. Your scales. Littering the deck and scattered all over. 

If possible, the man becomes even more enraged, knuckles going white over his blades. The man stationed on deck was asleep across the way; leaning back and snoring. John locks eyes on him and hides back a vicious smirk. Quickly sneaking over and staying near the edge of the lantern’s lights, the ragged-looking man awakens to a blade at the base of his throat and a voice in his ear.

“The woman,” John speaks slowly and deeply, accent rolling out. The watchman tenses in his grip, but John grits his teeth and grits out, “Where the fuck is she?” 

“W-woman?” Usually, the brunette could paint himself a patient man, like a flag fluttering in a breeze waiting for the next bout of heavy winds without care or concern. But this was different. 

By God, if these pathetic fortune-seekers had hurt you even in the slightest bit…

John presses the blade harder to the man’s throat, thighs shifting in agitation, glaring at the far-off water beyond this stranger’s shoulder.

“The woman.” Blood falls down the blade edge, crimson. A tiny whimper. “The one that you stole away like an fucking animal.” 

“The fish?” The tone was incredulous but with a snarl the voice continues, whispering pitifully out in fear over the night’s silence. “She’s in the Hold! I swear it, Sir, on God’s green earth I do—”

John slits the man’s throat and takes his leave before the body drops, blood spraying into the air with a garbled cry.

—

You don’t sleep so much as you fall unconscious from the lack of blood. Inside your head, your brain is fuzzy and light—everything swirling like a jewel’s many faces reflected onto a wall. The rocking of the Hunter’s ship, while something you should be used and accustomed to, made you sick at times until only the watery bile that fell from your lips hit the wood. 

At some point, you’d given into the call of nothingness at the lack of seawater and the violent shivering of your shoulders. Your tail had gone completely numb. 

Everyone knew that Merfolk needed the sea to survive—you couldn’t live without feeling its loose arms around you for long periods, pulling you in and filling your airways. 

This was torture. 

But whoever was ripping up cloth at your limp side was muttering you back into the darkness of the Hold. 

“I’m right ‘ere, c’mon, Love. Open your bloody eyes.” Hands pressed to your face, tilting it and hissing before a thumb slid along the swollen skin of a cut. “I’ll rip them to pieces…mark my word. They’ll not live through this.” 

It sounded like…

Gripping at your binds and gag, both items slipped away right before the larger cuts on your body were suddenly packed with strips of rough material. Occasional whispers of words and curses wafted out. 

“...J-John?” Your voice is rough, shattered, but at the same time you manage to force open an eye. 

Tight blue eyes meet yours immediately, and his voice softens to a painful degree as he addresses you. “That’s it, atta girl. Just keep focusing on my voice, then, yeah? Come back to me, Sweetheart.” 

Tears well your ducts, lips quivering. 

John was curled over you and had ripped up the bottom of his tunic to make strips of bandages to try and stop the bleeding. He came for you, gruff voice and large frame, all.

“How are you—” Your voice breaks into body-shaking coughs, but that doesn't deter the man. He carefully puts a hand forward and tilts you into his arms; head resting on his chest. Your ears twitch to the sound of his heartbeat, loud and fast. You cling to it like a lifeline as those calluses graze your skin once more.

How was he here? 

“What have they fucking done?” John’s voice is dark and volatile, his hand stroking your matted hair. “What did they do?” 

He’s not so much asking you as he’s asking himself. You breathe in a wheeze, not noticing the crimson staining John’s clothes—none of it his or yours in the slightest. The other men on the ship weren’t the Fisherman’s priority, only you; always you. But whoever had been in his path had met the unfortunate end of being on the opposite side of his blade. 

When he’d found you like this….it was like his entire chest had fallen still. His eyes wide with horror and fear. 

John had never felt something that visceral before, except when you hadn’t been in your cove. 

“Oh, my Beauty.” Chapped lips press to your forehead, breathing you in as arms curl around you. “Let me bring you home.” 

You shake and cry silently into his neck, weak hands coming to grasp at his neck. 

“They’re going to take my tail.” 

“No,” John’s answer is immediate and firm, pulling you closer until you might slip into his skin. “No, they’re not doing a damn thing to you. I promise, Love, not a single person will ever touch you again, you hear?” 

You burrow into his neck, this fisherman’s flesh soft under your force. Hands keep you to him, and with another kiss on your cheek, they tighten and gently move you into the clutch of his arm. 

John looks down at you with great distress, eyes flickering over every sign of abuse and hurt. The men whose throats he’d slit in their sleep deserved to be awake and see the blade descending for their neck, he thought. 

“I’m going to lift you, Sweetheart, eh?” He grunts to push aside the hatred in his tone, not wanting to scare you. He gazes around the Hold and at the low ceiling—the insistent rocking from the waves just outside. 

You suck down greedy breaths and nod slightly, shaking in his arms. John’s eyes crease in sorrow but has no option but to continue; the both of you can’t be here when the remaining men wake or discover the bodies. 

Your Fisherman frowns but does what he’s able to both quickly and effectively lift you, your tail hanging limp and dripping blood from the fins. When you tense and whine, John shushes you quietly.

“Hush, now, it’s alright. It’ll all be over soon, I’ve got you. I’m taking you back home if it’s the last thing I damn-well do.” Your teeth grit with held-back pain, every movement was agony and to think made it worse. 

Home? Home wasn’t safe anymore. Like taking a knife to the heart, the thought makes the torment all the worse. 

John holds you in one arm, head under his ear and rubbing against his beard as his muscles strain to keep you right to him with his torn tunic and blood-freckled skin. In his free hand, he wields his Cutlass and exits the Hold slowly, eyes surveying the scene. 

The scores of bodies were only a fraction of the men of this ship—only one side of the crew’s quarters that ascended up to the deck. John knew the anatomy of a ship well, certainly one like this. 

His only question was why such an unsavory bunch was living on a King issued hunting vessel in perfect condition. Was the bastard hiring pirates for his extermination game?

“If I ever get my hands on him…” John shuts himself up as someone groans in their sleep from the far wall. 

He glares in the general direction and puts his body between yours and the straight direction that he walks—sword parallel to the ground and knife at his belt as a backup. Ready and wound for a fight. 

“You..you came for me?” You ask softly as John carries on, your blood leaving a crimson trail behind the two of you; your mind is loose to all except the way your Fisherman’s thumbs run circles in your rent scales, fingers gripping under your tail joint which aches and hurts. His bicep is curled at the small of your back. 

John carries you like you weigh nothing.

“‘Course,” the brunette's eyes slide to yours, true honesty and firmness behind his words. You flutter your lashes at the fatigue in your body and his feet speed up, speaking into your scalp and nuzzling his beard into you. “No one messes with my girl.” 

“I’m not a…girl, John,” you remind, softly.

The smirk on your head gives you strength, fear steadily draining like contaminated liquid.

“No,” he whispers, “no, not quite. You’re something far more lovely, aren’t you?”

Your heart swells, tears dripping down your cheeks once more before lips slide them away with brushes of a kiss. He carries you up the stairs quickly, sword at the ready. 

Lantern light makes you squint, hands tightening around John’s neck. 

He hums to you, a small melody that you can latch onto to help focus—it keeps your mind working as everything else falls away. John’s warm flesh and his lungs, the sound of his pulse. 

He came for you. No man would do that besides him—no specimen of any species. No one except John. 

Your Fisherman. 

You’re halfway to freedom, feeling the sea air on your flesh and longing for the depths of untouchable waves. You peek from John’s neck and blink delicately, what little scales still intact shimmering, and fins aching for water. 

“John,” he begins to pick up his pace, but still glances in attentive question. “I need to be in the water. I can’t go long without it.” You already felt a bit stronger by just being by the open sea. The man nods and you smile deeply, face twisted. You kiss his cheek deeply. “You have my thanks, Fisherman.” 

His tight expression gradually loosens with care and love. “Doubted me, then?”

“Perhaps only a little,” he kisses your lips, cheeky smiles peeling his beard. 

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, eh?” The man’s face is lit by lanterns, stars like a crown above his head that illuminate the small scars and the sheen of sweat like a portrait of a good man. 

Perhaps humans were truly more magical than you had been taught to believe, for no mortal man would do this for anybody. 

In the midst of him carrying you over to the edge of the ship, he’s only three feet from the drop when the familiar sound of a Flintlock hammer being clicked back hits his ears. You feel John lock up, and your eyebrows crease in confusion; not common to the model of metal and wood. 

Looking over his shoulder, you strangle down a raspy gasp.

“John—”

“I know, Love.” He whispers, turning slowly with his sword at his hip. The stranger with the eyepatch has his weapon leveled with the brunette’s chest. “Easy, let me handle it. Keep focusing on me.”

“A thief in the night!” The leader calls, and alarm from below deck start to rise in question at the noise. John grits his teeth and his stance widens. “Thought to make off with my prize, did ya? I’ve not seen you before on this ship.”

“Hell,” John grits out, loudly now that he’s caught. You burrow deeper into him and he shields you, voice hot with rage. “Save me the fuckin’ monologue. She isn’t yours—to own or bloody take.” 

As he speaks he points his cutlass in the leader’s general direction, holding it aloft with a strong and pale arm. The leader smirks, and soon the pound of rushing feet enter the deck—men holding weapons and clubs. You make a noise of tension and John tries to shift you farther into his grip even more. 

Your tail hangs and brushes the deck, gaining some feeling back to it gradually. 

The leader laughs. “What that creature is, Mate, is enough gold for a whole moon’s time in rum and pleasure.” His single eye falls on you as the crew gets closer, crowding in and yelling. 

John shuffles back and snarls like a boar, pointing his sword’s tip from one chest to another. 

“Keep your bastard eye off of ‘er, you prick. Find your score elsewhere. She’s coming with me.” So sure he sounds that you yourself believe it. Your chest swims with pride.  

The crew closes in, but jumping at this stage was dangerous. The ones with firearms could aim in the water before you both could get away and John didn’t know if you could swim still. Your fins were torn and tail flinching with damaged nerves.

Eyepatch barks a vile laugh, “...I think he loves the beast!” John’s body winds even farther and your eyes slip to the side of his red face. He grunts stiffly, hair damp. Everyone follows in their amusement, mocking the two of you. “I knew that necklace around her neck meant something.” Your body stills and you glance down at John’s gifted silver. Blue eyes flash to the same, but as if suddenly realizing the nakedness of your top surrounded by such brutes, your Fisherman pushes on the back of your spine to shove your chest into his own with a panicked look. You grunt in surprise, but let him. “No greedy Mermaid would bother with a trinket like that! A piece of rubbish metal. It means something to her—and I’ll bet that something is you, Thief.” 

Me, greedy? Your eyes narrowed into slits. If you knew his name, you’d sing his death song in an instant. Your Fisherman’s face goes stiff, knowing the predicament the two of you were in. There was no way he was giving you up. 

But himself…

Tiny lids narrow on the arrogant leader.

“Do you trust me?” John whispers to you, suddenly, as all sides were surrounded and the water just as dangerous as the deck. 

Face creasing, you say, confused and worried, “Of course.” 

“...Then forgive me.” 

He throws you from the side of the deck, and whirs to run his blade through the nearest man. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[lumiambrose]

kaiser x gn!reader, fluff

tw: kaiser, very scuffed german (i refuse to believe that my german is any short of perfection), not proofread!

translations at the end!

today kaiser has decided to whisk you away from your day to day routine for whatever he may have planned. he had that signature smirk on his face, the one that promised something exciting and extravagant (or headache inducing). "come on, get ready," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "i have a surprise for you."

you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. sometimes, his arrogance turned into something charming, it was almost endearing the way he got to you. you quickly grabbed your things and got into his car, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

the drive was filled your light banter and the background music of your mixed playlist. he glanced at you occasionally, making sure you were just as excited as he was. "i know you've been eyeing something special, mein schatz," he hinted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

eventually, you arrived at an upscale boutique, the kind of place where everything screamed luxury and exclusivity. kaiser led you inside, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back. the staff greeted you both with a mix of respect and awe, offering to prepare some champagne while the two of you browsed the store.

"pick anything you like," he said, gesturing to the array of elegant clothes and accessories. "you deserve it."

you browsed through the racks, occasionally glancing at kaiser. his eyes followed you, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. he enjoyed watching you revel in the luxury he provided, knowing that he was the one making you happy.

after selecting a new pair of heels, kaiser insisted on buying a few more items that caught his eye. i mean, what good is a new pair of heels without a new outfit to match. and of course you need a matching bag too. he wanted nothing but to spoil you rotten. "für dich, meine liebe, ist nur das beste," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

after kaiser finished the payment, you left the boutique happily with kaiser following suit carrying your bags. before heading home, the two of you decided to drop by the cafe opposite the boutique. once you ordered and settled down into your booth, kaiser handed you a small box. inside, nestled among delicate tissue paper, was a beautiful necklace. it was an elegant pendant with a diamond in the centre. "just a little something that reminded me of you," he said, his voice softer, more genuine.

you felt a rush of emotions, the weight of his love and the extravagance of his gesture overwhelming you. "thank you, kaiser," you whispered, your eyes meeting his.

he leaned in next to you, his lips brushing against your forehead. "i'll always take care of you," he murmured. "you're the most important person in my life, vergiss das nie, liebe."

as the sun set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you and kaiser sat hand in hand after your successful shopping trip. at the end of the day, these moments were the ones you'd cherish forever. kaiser's love, though wrapped in arrogance and superiority, was undeniable. he had a way of making you feel like the centre of his universe, and for that, you loved him even more.

translations + an:

"mein schatz" -> my darling (literally translated: my treasure),

"für dich, meine liebe, ist nur das beste" -> for you, my love, is only the best

"vergiss das nie, liebe" -> don’t ever forget that, love

german is not my mother tongue but if i don’t put my knowledge to good use then what point is there even in knowing the language.

ps. sorry if my german offended anyone (it offends me too)

[leavingsunsets]

Helllloo!!

I would like to request a senkuu x reader if possible! (Preferably some angst + romance but anything works!) Been looking for some inspiration and I love your work!

Also hopefully you're okay if I draw some of your work too

Thank youuuu!! (>u<)/

im okay with you drawing my work! saw some of ur art, and wow! glad ur a fan tehee :33 i see you've given me an angst plot, with romance? yes i will definitely fulfill this. i waaaassss ssupposed to make this action filled with scene wit reader dying in battle of treasure island arc and senku going "WHAT" and head in hands and sobbing and the gang has to go back to the mainland hat on stomach like ":(" but exams and research defense finished and i also jus watched cute little vid of an old couple so this is jussttt hmmm a softer angst set between events ig

"ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ."

[ꜱᴇɴᴋᴜ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

It wasn't really a secret. You didn't even try, honestly.

Since the first of times of where you'd glimpsed his face at school, to the latest catch of him swirling fluid in a beaker, you've always been confident in your feelings.

Albeit a bit clumsy in your attempts, you were honest, never mincing them, never embarrassed.

"Senku, I really really like you!"

"Yeah, okay, could you pass me that screwdriver?" he says, both of you 6 years old in his room, as he gestures to the tool beside you.

"Senku, I want to date you. I heard Aimi had a boyfriend recently and I was thinking-" your voice goes interrupted as the loud sound of Senku's machinery overpower yours. 13 years old, another one of his favorite past times.

"Senku, if we were both nobles in medieval fantasy and I had to marry someone in order to get a persistent suitor off my back, I'd go to you. Offer a contract with an eventual divorce, but then we fall in love in a slow burn romance and start rethinking about our agreement."

"Can you- just- HELP ME, DAMN IT." Senku heaves, 16 years old, face turning red as he struggles to hold the boxes of equipment you came to help him with.

All these confessions, all these words, even before everything changed. The clatter of a can hitting the ground.

...

In this new life, surely, you know, Senku's had an absolute goal for this world. To rebuilt it as it was, from his own two hands. In your own way, you've had to learn how to pace your feelings.

Instead of words, as you always did, you decided to translate your affections into a language that matters most in a time like this.

Actions.

For every problem, every step he takes, you take with him. Express your thoughts, concerns, ideas. Any progress, you're there to celebrate with, any process, you're there to assist.

Declarations of love aren't so frequent, though you do like to sneak it in rarely. Announcing it in bursts of passion at the top of your lungs. Quite an antic you do, much to his embarrassment. It's become a well known fact, and often a joke between company.

Though, sometimes you wonder if it's what makes him doubt it. Your overt confessions, cheesy poems and bustling energy that could rival Taiju's. Was it too clumsy? Too obvious that he feels it's an exaggerated farce for show?

To this, you whisper gingerly in the dead of night, in the earliest of mornings,

"Senku. I really really like you."

In the times of uneventful hours, peacefulness in comfortable silence,

"Senku,"

You know, of course you do, of all people.

No one knows him more than you and that fact would've made you happy of such a thing if it couldn't break your heart more. The love of your life, saying everything said in a language that matters most in this time.

An unreadable glance. When the sun beams down brightly and you stare at him lovingly like he's hung the stars in the sky.

Winter strikes mercilessly, days are rough, tensions are high. When everything's all good and done, a bold pinkie inches towards his own. He doesn't pull away, but his hand moves back just as further.

Late at night, behind the tree he leans upon, watching, just watching. His ruby eyes enraptured by the night's celestial pearl.

Gaze too high, to see you.

You close your eyes.

You don't think you can ever stop loving him, despite that. That man doesn't like dragging things out, so you're sure a rejection is soon to come. Whether you approach first or not.

Why he doesn't do it sooner? You know why. As much as he doesn't reciprocate, you know how hesitant he is when it comes to close relationships such as you. Is he scared of breaking your friendship?

It's not the warmth you're looking for, but it's the warmth you can get. Even so, you would never expect him to return just as much as you've given. You love him for him, and not for anything else.

Tragic, how terribly you do.

Maybe one day, you'll learn to forget, to move your heart from where it isn't supposed to be. Maybe one day, you would stop gazing at him with something much more than fondness, waiting for his eyes to find its way back to you.

But until then,

"-I love you."

[woncon]

☼ summer tales

once upon a time there was a hybrid, a demon, a merman, a vampire and a fairy who fell in love with you on one summer day.

☼five drabbles with each txt member and you

☼bunny hybrid!soobin, demon!yeonjun, merman!beomgyu, vampire!taehyun, fairy!kai

☼summer themes, fluff, kissing, cuddling, comfort

☼special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

☼finally, it's summer! i'll have more time to actually write & chill. 🥹

☼txt masterlist | main masterlist

SOOBIN

The carrot cocktail turned out terrible. Showered and changed, you're chilling in the coolest corner of your apartment, just like before you thought about making the refreshing drink, only with one more failure.

Soobin lifts his head from your belly, your fingers ceasing their movement in his hair as he looks at you with a sad, remorseful look, as if it's his fault that you can't handle the basic ingredients for a cocktail and the blender.

"You'll get it right another time. Don't feel bad about it," he gently nudges your wrist with his nose, then seeing you flash an unconvincing smile, he gets up so that your faces are at the same height.

"It happens to everyone." He strokes your face reassuringly. His voice is soft, kind and hopeful. You'd believe him if it weren't you, the mess of the kitchen.

"It's always likes this with me."

"You'll practice, and you'll get it right. It wasn't bad, by the way."

"What? You tasted it?"

"You made it for me, of course I tasted it. It was good."

"Carrot pieces floating in water..." You frown at the not very appetizing image in your mind.

"Shh," Soobin kisses you softly, then leans away with a smile, flashing his sweet bunny teeth. His lips taste like carrots, and you'd rather remember that later than the cocktail so you gently pull his fluffy ears, pulling him back to your lips.

YEONJUN

Yeonjun is having a great time in the sweltering heat. Where he comes from, thirty-four degrees is just pleasant weather. You, on the other hand, find it terrible.

"It's hot as hell!" You whine as you fan your stomach with the bottom of your leotard, your nose wrinkling into a grimace as the fabric sticks to your skin.

The boy stretches out on your bed and chuckles. You tilt your head in anger and resentment.

"Do you think this is funny? I'm dying!" You raise your arms to the sky, as if you're about to burst into flames and be consumed by your own body with self-magic, then stagger out of the room to get a glass of water with ice-cubes.

Yeonjun follows you, sneaking closer with deliberate, soft steps, and when you've finished your refreshing, cool sip then sigh, he decides it's time to wrap his hands around your waist and lean his forehead against the back of your head. You can feel the friction of your skin against his horns too.

"I'm sorry. You're just adorable when in despair."

"That's a very weird compliment." You groan and peel off his embracing arms. "And you're awfully hot."

"Sorry. I can't cool you down, only warm you up. But I'll run down to the store and get some ice cream, if that helps."

"Thank you!" You smile at the caring words, and press a kiss to the demon's cheek, indicating that your anger is only temporary, and that it's a very short period of time if he's out for ice cream for your sake.

BEOMGYU

Beomgyu is looking up at you with a demanding gaze, but you're closed-eyed, enjoying the sunshine in your bikini, dangling your feet in the pleasant water. He swims closer to you, his golden-yellow tail snaking softly. He rests her head on your thigh, webbed fingers gripping your naked calves.

"Swim with me!"

"Won't it be very cold? My skin's super warm..." You smile down at him uncertainly. Your shoulders shine in the light.

Beomgyu smiles, dives into the water, and returns a moment later with a butter-white twisted shell. He proudly brushes his hair out of his face. He fills his treasure with water, then asks your permission with a soft gaze.

"May I?"

You nod, lean down a little. The boy gently drenches your shoulder with the cooling water. You shiver as the drops trickle down your arm, but as the next little one hits your skin, you slowly get used to it.

Eventually you can plunge into the water without difficulty through the Beomgyu fountain. As soon as your shoulders touch the water, Beomgyu wraps you in his arms and happily rubs his nose against yours. He was looking forward to hugging you.

"Won't we swim?" You cling to his neck, caressing his skin gently. It wouldn't be bad if you guys stay like this, it'll be perfectly fine.

"We will. I'll carry you, just let me."

"Okay."

Beomgyu kisses you on the cheek. But instead of swimming he only cuddles you in one place, while his muscular tail slaps the water to keep you from sinking.

TAEHYUN

The blades of the little fan are spinning at max speed, you hold your face in front of it, trying to imagine that it's cool and it works, but in the end you always look longingly towards the closed door. You yearn for your boyfriend's embrace.

Whining, you turn off the machine, the paddles slow down, then stop with a sigh. It needs rest, and you need a good snuggle with Taehyun.

You open the door quietly, sneak into the completely darkened room and deftly dodge the clothes and other rubbish strewn on the floor to get to the bed. The boy lies on his side, hugging a pillow. His chest does not move. He is not breathing. It's not just like he's dead, he's literally dead.

You climb up onto the mattress, grab the cold wrist, take the pillow, then dive into his arms. Sliding his hand to your waist, you sigh happily at the pleasant sensation, for Taehyun's embrace of your warm body is like holding a refrigerator to your chest.

But unlike the fridge, Taehyun can hug you back, and kiss the tip of your nose, and caress your side. Right now he's squirming a little, gently stroking your waist under your shirt, making you shiver.

His red eyes squint dreamily at you.

"You feelin' hot?"

"And not just a little." You hug his waist, burying your head in his chest, where you hear nothing but your own breathing. “Do you feel it?”

Taehyun caresses your back and rests his chin on your head. His fingers brush softly against your artery.

"Your blood is a few degrees warmer than usual. But I'll cool you down, don't worry."

You giggle as he slips his leg over your thigh, wraps it all the way around you, and then lavishes you with sweet little kisses. He locks you in the coffin of his body, and there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

KAI

You are curled up on the recliner, disappointed. The cushions are soft under your hands, the wind whispers sweetly of summer, bringing the nostalgic scent of mown grass and the distant sound of a lawnmower. The sun shines pleasantly. It's your favorite season, yet you're so sad.

"I'm late," that's what you say to your boyfriend when he sits next to you and asks you what has got your ever-excited self this time of year.

"What are you late for?"

"The cherries. I remembered too late to check. It's completely gone bad, but it's so good to pick and eat!"

Kai gently strokes your arm. You lean gratefully on his shoulder and sigh. The boy studies you for a moment, looking off into the distance, then pats your back and stands up. As you look questioningly towards him, he flashes you a kind smile and promises to be right back.

He then walks to the cherry tree behind the house. He rests his palm on the trunk of the tree, feeling the pulsing life energy inside. He asks the plant not to store up all its energy for next year, but to harvest on this day. The tree is a bit reluctant, worried about how it will survive the winter and how much energy it will have to produce next summer, but the boy reassures it that he will take care of it. The tree doesn't want to say no to a fairy anyway, so eventually buds sprout on its branches, white flowers bloom, and juicy cherries dangle from the branches.

Kai smiles in satisfaction and goes back for you.

"Come, I want to show you something." He takes the slightly puzzled you by the arm and leads you to the back garden, where the sun is perfectly focusing on the cherry tree.

"But... Just now... How?" You can barely speak, blinking at the tree then the boy.

You don't understand how it is that, while you were being laughed at by withered, ugly witches, can now look at you with mature, red, laughing, alluring eyes.

"Summer miracle." Kai smiles and presses a kiss on your cheek, which is made cute by excitement and disbelief, and makes you forget to blush by the soft gesture. “So we pick cherries?”

You nod, and your boyfriend reaches for the basket propped up against the trunk, then tucks it into the crook of your elbow. You look gratefully at the boy who made this possible. You know he did it, even if you can't put your finger on how. What is certain is that Kai is special.

You saw his translucent wings one early morning.

[yuna542]

‚.•.Masterlist.•.‘

If you want to be part of my permanent or a specific Taglist write a comment and I'll add you!

English is my second language so don't come at me, with grammar and shit <3 I'm trying my best!(Google translation appreciation)

- have fun around my blog and much love <3

Requests open: Feel free to dm me requests about your dirty (or sweet) little fantasies and if I like it, I'm gonna include it into a story or make it an own oneshot.

⚡️Stray Kids⚡️

Connected

Pairing: OT8 x Reader Series

Status: Work in progress

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Comfort

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Fem!reader, explicit smut, swearing, mention of sex and alcohol, unprotected sex (just don't!), Angst, Jealousy, Poly Relationship

Taglist: Closed (love y'all!)

Summary:

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

Drabble Challenge ✏️

1❤️‍🩹🐺 II🚌🐿️

Oneshots:

Steamy (Felix x this Reader)

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

🥊Bloodhounds-Masterlist🥊

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

🌊Outer Banks🌊

Sand & Pearl (Coming Soon)

Status: Work in progress

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader/Oc

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Drama, Action

Warnings: ✍️

Taglist: Open

Summary: The Kook princess is back after a year and reignites the war between Pogues and Kooks on Kildare. But she quickly realizes that after this year, nothing is the same as before. Deception, secrets from the past, and dangerous conspiracies sweep across Kildare, leaving her no choice but to work with the Pogues and her personal nemesis to find the truth and maybe even $8 million. A dangerous treasure hunt begins that changes her world upside down.

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[yuuuhiii]

Hellloo! Here for your even! Can this match-up happen in JJK?

How about a reader who is very selective with their peers but hold those people very dear. They're also a big bookworm and astronomy nerd so do with what you can! They're also concious of being left behind and alone and wouldn't show it, thus would constantly do everything to help and be kind under a perfectionist but reassuring chatacter.

I hope this isn't too confusing! Thank you for reading this request!

I match you with KENTO NANAMI

Kento holds you to a high standard in his books. You’re wife material really, however, he thinks maybe he’ll talk about that another time.

You guys are alike in many ways but different as well. He values your self-proclaimed flaws even though he tells you you're perfect.

Both of your guy's groups are small, having been in that group for most of high school both of you grew and learned to keep it small. Losing people or just being careful with who to bring around was helpful for both of you.

Kento feeds your reading obsession. If you guys aren't home then you're in a cafe or library. He spoils you to the absolute max.

You mentioned a book sounded interesting? It's wrapped with a ribbon on your bed.

Do you stare at a ring for more than a couple seconds? It's your new promise ring.

You scold him about his tendencies but he always says the same thing. “I'm just pampering the woman who holds my heart.”

Now other than the libraries and cafes you guys are at observatories. Or even out where you have a full view of the night sky and shimmering stars.

More times than not, he falls asleep to your voice, explaining to him which constellation is which. Your fingers trace the structure onto his bare skin.

He thinks you're the prettiest like this. The moonlight illuminating your features enough that you resemble a star yourself.

He tells you all the time you'd be the sun. Since you've always seemed to brighten his day every waking moment.

When he misses you and he's away at work he knows where to look. While it's day, he treasures how bright it is. While it's night, he admires the stars.

Kento knows what it’s like to feel and be alone. He’s always enjoyed solitude, although meeting you has changed him. Now when you aren’t with him he finds himself counting down the hours until he’ll be with you again.

He wonders if when your wedding day arrives he’d be able to access a sample of the moon in your ring. Just so he can prove it when he tells you he loves you to the moon and back. He remembers a poem you wrote, you said it was of him.

“Like the moon. Everyone admires me. But I’m always alone.”

He thinks back to it and he brings it up to you now. He tells you that if he’s the moon then you’re the sun and that doesn't make him alone. Because his life revolves around you.

Without him there’d be no moonlight.

And without you, there’d be no gravity to ground him.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[eri-pl]

Tengwar <3

It's the best thing Feanor made. Seriously. Nobody will murder you for using Tengwar. Nobody will hack your brain when you use Tengwar in the wrong moment. (The lamps are ok, but kinda meh, Tengwar is better)

Did you know, just did you know, that every consonant has a name, and the name is a noun, and some are really cool (and foreshadowing)? (chart and translations below the cut)

So, if you want a chart, here is a chart. And the names are (I don't have diacritics, so I just double the long vowels) (Quenya mode, with some historical notes from LotR appendix and elvish.org):

"Normal stuff Feanor had on his desk" row:

T tinco - metal

P parma - book

K calma - lamp (like those Feanor made? Or... like those Aule made)

Q quesse - feather (birds are important!)

"Things that keep you trapped" row:

ND ando - gate (like... the Door of Night?)

MB umbar - doom (doesn't need a comment...)

NG anga - iron (also, used in sword names, even for non-iron swords)

NGW (in TA changed to NW) ungwe - spider's web (foreshadowingsight on Feanor's part? :) )

"Mountain things???" row

S suule - spirit or breath (Manwe Sulimo... king of winds and stuff...) | TH thuule - spirit or breath, but I'm a Feanorian, or at least I'm a linguistics geek and love the phonetic scheme (me! but otoh it sounds dumb :( ), or I love the Teleri and/or Sindar, who use it as th (Finarfin, iirc).

F formen - north

H (h before t) harma (voiceless velar fricative phonetically /x/... I think. the sources are confusing. In TA mostly softened into a breath h.) - treasure (my precious Silmarills...) | aha (later renamed, idk when) - rage (my Silmarils! and, even more importantly, my father!)

HW (like "wh" in "why" especially the fancy British way of saying it where it's actyally h-w, not w-h) hwesta - breeze

"We need to name a row after places of articulation" row

NT anto - mouth (couldn't you think of a better name? I get it's a place-of-articulation row, but i don't like it anyway)

MP ampa - hook

NC anca - jaw

NQ unque - hole

"Things that Melkor likes" row:

N nuumen - west (Numenor...)

M malta - gold

NG (by TA: N) noldo - Noldo, as in type of Elf. Yes, it was initially Ngoldo. I mean, initially initially it was a gnome, so...

NW nwalme - tornment

"I have no idea but vaguely positive-metaphysical?..." row

R (pre-consonant or end-of-the-word R | non-vibrating r, whatever this means. My bet is that it's "r" as in Japanese --- position like "r", movement like "d") oore - heart (or: rising. Guess whose name includes this component. funny that it's the same word as heart, especially given that heart is also defined as conscience here)

V vala - power (duh.)

Y (? it has some history) [there was a consonant here]anna - gift (totally not made into a sus word by now...)

W/V (Initially W, by TA changed to V) wilya - air / lower sky (funny how those two names are next to one another. )

"Really, I think Feanor ran out of ideas for coherent name sets" row

R (vibrating, typpical "rrr") romen - east (the same sound being written with "East" and with a word alternatively translating to "heart" or part of Melkor's name --- I love it! Why? See my recent post. I love that. Call it a coincidence, but I love it)

RD arda - realm

L lambe - speech

LD alda - tree (!)

Now we are not in regular rows, so, the extra letters:

S silme - starlight (or... metaphysically important light in general? because guess what word is connected to this one. Also, funny how it's just after "tree"). It's always S, never TH.

(nuquerma is just "flipped" or something I guess)

Z aaze - day / sunlight (in Noldorin changed to Z - aare) | SS esse (Numenor and later, because they did not use the "z" sound, I think) - name

HY (Numenor and later: H) hywarmen - south

I yanta - bridge

U uure - heat

(doesn't have a sound, in Sindarin it's A) osse - terror (I guess he isn't a very nice Maia?)

H (voiceless h: /h/ not /x/; in TA replaced by harmen) halla - tall | gasdil - stop

(short wovel carrier) telco - stem

(long carrier) aara - dawn

The Tengwa names after directions are also used as marks in the compass (like we use NSWE) And snarky comments aside, I love the schema and how the names connect into many interesting and often Silm-events-related patterns. I love how each (almost) row is named after a set of similar things.

I'm not an expert, and if I made some mistakes, I'll be grateful for corrections.

[kiskisur]

Hello! So hm I'd like to request some fluff with Lyney x male/ftm reader👉🏻👈🏻 reader asking Lyney why do he loves them (if ftm reader and you're comfortable with it, because theyre feeling some dysphoria) all of sudden while he's doing some magic tricks, and the magician start being all cute and flirty🫡

ᝰ.ᐟ we fell in love in october.

warnings: male reader, lyney being a cutie patootie :((, reader is referred as [name] and goes by they/them pronouns, slight angst(?)

note: honestly this is so cute!! tysm for the idea! :D atp I was crying over my own story HAHAHA btw I am not french so I do apologize if I made a mistake :( I just used Google Translate huhu. anyways I was born so I decided to do this lolol

Under the moonlit sky, Lyney and [name] found themselves on a tranquil hillside, the soft rustling of leaves and distant chirping of crickets creating a serene atmosphere. They often came here to escape the hustle and bustle of their daily lives, to share quiet moments away from the world.

On this particular evening, Lyney had set up an array of flickering lanterns, their gentle glow painting the surroundings in a warm, inviting light. [name] leaned against a tree, watching as Lyney moved gracefully amidst the lanterns, his movements fluid and mesmerizing.

As the last lantern was lit, Lyney turned to [name], his violet eyes sparkling with excitement. "Tonight, I have a special performance just for you," he announced with a mischievous grin.

[name]'s heart skipped a beat, their curiosity piqued by Lyney's words. They settled onto a cozy blanket spread out on the ground, their eyes fixed on Lyney's every move.

With a flourish of his hand, Lyney conjured a deck of shimmering cards, each one glimmering like stardust. He shuffled them expertly, his fingers dancing across the cards as if they had a life of their own. "You see, [name]," he began, his voice a melodious whisper, "magic isn't just about tricks. It's about creating moments that make your heart race, moments that take you to another world."

As he spoke, he revealed the top card, a queen with a radiant smile. "This queen represents your strength," Lyney continued, his words holding a quiet reverence. "The way you face challenges head-on, never giving up. It's the fire within you that inspires me every day."

With a flick of his wrist, the card transformed into a blooming rose, its petals unfurling to reveal a hidden compartment. From within, Lyney produced a delicate silver necklace, a heart-shaped locket dangling from its chain. He approached [name] with a soft smile, placing the necklace gently in their hands.

"This locket is like the key to my heart," Lyney confessed, his eyes locked onto [name]'s. "Inside, there's a small mirror – a reflection of all the beauty and wonder you bring into my life."

[name]'s fingers traced the contours of the locket, their heart swelling with emotion. It was a gesture so heartfelt, it left them speechless.

But Lyney wasn't done. With another flourish, he waved his hand over the locket, and the necklace began to glow softly, casting a gentle light around them. "And now, [name], it's your turn," he said, his voice a velvety whisper. "Tell me, what's in your heart?"

As [name] met Lyney's gaze, a mix of vulnerability and determination flickered in their eyes. "I... I love you, Lyney," they admitted, their voice steady yet filled with emotion. "But sometimes, I wonder why you would love me."

Lyney's smile never wavered as he knelt beside [name], his hand gently lifting their chin to meet his gaze. "Oh, [name], you are a treasure beyond measure," he replied, his words carrying the weight of his feelings. "I love you for the way you make me laugh, for the kindness that radiates from you. I love the way you see beauty in the simplest things, and the strength you show even when you doubt yourself."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small crystal orb that shimmered in the lantern light. "This orb represents the bond between us," Lyney explained. "It's as unique and iridescent as your smile, [name]."

With a gentle touch, he placed the orb in [name]'s hand, their fingers brushing against each other. "You ask why I love you?" Lyney murmured, his breath warm against their skin. "It's because you're the magic that fills my world with wonder. Your flaws and insecurities are part of what makes you so beautifully human, and I cherish every part of you."

As [name] looked into Lyney's eyes, they felt a sense of warmth and acceptance they had never experienced before. In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of lanterns and the twinkle of stars overhead, they understood that love wasn't about being flawless, but about finding someone who saw their true worth.

With a soft smile, Lyney leaned in, his lips brushing against [name]'s in a tender, lingering kiss. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the magic of their love.

Their hearts beat in sync, and [name]'s hand instinctively found its way to the back of Lyney's neck, drawing him closer. The kiss deepened, a gentle exploration of emotions they had both held back for so long. It was a kiss that spoke volumes – of affection, desire, and the unspoken promise of a shared future.

As they finally parted, their breaths mingling, Lyney rested his forehead against [name]'s, his violet eyes locking onto theirs. "You are my greatest enchantment," he whispered, his voice a caress against their skin.

ᝰ.ᐟ that's why I love fall <3

[journey-to-the-attic]

Okay but do you realise you have to drop the nicknames list now. Like I can't just move on without knowing what Lucifer's number 3 most sappy nickname is. (/j, only if you want to ofc!!)

i went to do it nearly as soon as i posted that ask answer, so here you go! copy-pasted and reformatted for ease of understanding - and some previously unseen because they come into use post-jtta

running list of ik's addresses/nicknames, stc

category one: standard

kid/kiddo - mostly mammon (who uses these more than her actual name), occasionally levi

twinkle - astaroth, belphie (tends to swap between this and her name)

moppet - mephisto

darling - asmo in every day life

sweetheart - asmo again, in softer moments

doll - alecto, though she uses this one on a lot of people

[my] dear - barbatos, so far only used impulsively once, but which becomes more frequent in future

paws - satan, shamelessly borrowed from anon

little dove - simeon, used once so far, but which is likely to make a comeback

wizard of shoes - solomon, as part of a running joke

overlord terror of the sands, duke of the sea turtles, bestie - any of a number of titles ik has slowly accumulated throughout her various running bits with levi

category two: special occasions

[my] lovely - simeon, in the same why english teachers in the uk often do

treasure - mammon

(something in a now obselete language that translates to) 'light of my eyes' - popular several generations ago, now probably only ever used by lucifer

something derived from these lines from an old devildom poem: "that which dreams like bottled lightning / sparks hope that grows from rot / to scatter wishes across the starry sky / and sever old threads at the cloth" - which only diavolo seems to understand

[my] precious/sweet/many other adjectives girl - asmo when very very drunk

brave hero - levi, making an effort to cheer her up

[astrozuya]

☆ SUNRISE, choi yeonjun.

❛ pairings: choi yeonjun x male reader.

❛ content: fluff. oneshot. wc: 670. he/him pronouns used for reader.

❛ warnings: kissing. pet names (prince, baby, cute boy). established relationship. yeonjun is called hyung. lowercase intended.

❛ notes: requested by @sooinluvz !! i just need jjunie to kiss all my problems away :( <3

choi yeonjun treasures every second he gets to spend with you, but if he had to pick, his favorite time to spend with you is the morning.

there's nothing he loves more than waking up to you in his arms, your eyes shut as you softly breathe in and out, holding onto his hand in your sleep.

yeonjun brushes a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

you stir and slowly blink, gorgeous eyes opening and gazing at yeonjun.

"jjunie? is it time to get up?" you raise your head a little to look at him, and he swears he can't love you any more than he already does.

the first few rays of sunlight have just started creeping in past the curtains, so he shakes his head and smiles, adoring eyes fixed on you.

"not yet, prince, go back to sleep. sorry for waking you."

you nod slowly, stretching and cuddling closer to him. "good morning," you mumble into his chest.

yeonjun tries to hold back his adoration but fails. "god, you're so fucking cute, m/n. i love you."

he takes your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over, from your nose to your forehead and of course, several on your pretty lips.

you giggle and kiss him back. "i love you too."

when you finally pull away, it's not because you want to, but because you're out of breath. you push the blankets out of the way and start getting out of bed.

yeonjun pouts and says "did you forget? yesterday when we went on our date you promised you'd give me a thousand kisses."

"i didn't forget." you tell him.

yeonjun whines and pulls on your wrist, "you haven't given me a thousand yet, come back~"

you giggle and pull away from his grasp, "hyung, stop it! i have to get up and go brush my teeth! plus, i never said i'd give you a thousand kisses today. i have an entire lifetime to kiss you as much as i want."

yeonjun huffs and gives in, a light blush adorning his cheeks, but he's not really upset. how could he be, when he's lucky enough to call you his?

so he gets out of bed too, stretching and going into the kitchen to feed your cat.

once he's done, he comes into the bathroom and puts his arms around you as you wash your face.

"hyung," you whine, trying to shake off his arms, but he just grins and hugs you tighter.

you pout as yeonjun pokes your cheek lightly and coos, "where's my cute boy's smile?"

"gone. forever." you stick your tongue out at him and wriggle out of his grasp.

yeonjun grins and starts brushing his teeth while you finish washing your face.

once you're both done, you head back into the bedroom. you glance at the sunlight lighting up your room, then grab yeonjun's arm excitedly while asking, "hyung, wanna watch the sunrise?"

he smiles and nods, opening the door to the balcony and stepping out with you.

you take a deep breath, enjoying the scent of flowers and the quiet trills of birdsong.

you gaze at the emerging golden sun lighting up the sky, and smile happily. "isn't the sunrise pretty?"

yeonjun's eyes are on you instead, admiring the sight of the soft golden rays falling across your cheek.

you turn to look at him, eyes shining. "could you think of a more gorgeous view?"

yeonjun's eyes don't leave your face. "i could think of one, yeah."

you duck your head as you feel your cheeks heating up. "stop it, hyung, my heart can't handle it."

yeonjun just chuckles, putting an arm around you as he turns to look at the view with you. he presses a kiss to your head and mumbles, "my pretty boy."

this is all he needs, and all he'll ever need.

because you're yeonjun's entire world, and your eyes are more breathtaking than any sunrise could ever be.

© astrozuya. do not translate, copy or repost my work. networks: @kflixnet

[headfullofpresley]

Good Boy

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,6K

Warning(s): sub!Elvis, soft dom!reader, army!Elvis, SMUT obv; handjob (m. receiving), edging/orgasm control, begging, praise kink, strong language, alcohol consumption, smoking.

Requested: No, but pls send in requests for sub!Elvis ;)

Summary: While on military leave, Elvis discovers a whole new side of himself with the help of a pretty little showgirl in Paris.

Author’s note: readers’ performance and outfit was based on this video! I just suck at describing it, so if you want the visual, there ya go. also, i am officially dead after writing this bc GODDAMN. also, i suggest listening to this song while reading this ;););). enjoy luvs!

Translations for French words used in this:

mon chéri/chéri - my dear/sweetheart/etc.

bébé - baby

salut, mon amour - hi/hello, my love

mon ange - my angel

magnifique - magnificent

mon trésor - my treasure

masterlist

‘‘You've been a bad bad boy, I'm gonna take my time, so enjoy. There's no need to feel no shame; relax and sip upon my champagne.

Oh baby for all it's worth, I swear I'll be the first to blow your mind. I'll give you some oh-la-la; voulez vous coucher avec moi?

I got you breaking into a sweat; got you hot, bothered, and wet, you nasty boy.’’

To many, Paris was known for being the leader in the world when it came to fashion and art, authentic little bakeries that baked fresh bread and pastries at the crack of dawn to wake up the people in the neighborhoods with the mouth watering smell, the fierce people that could have one shaking with just a single glare. The city was classy and elegant, but as soon as the sun would go down, Paris would turn into the bustling place men and women from far away would come for. One could even say Paris was the cherry on top of the cake that was Europe.  

Elvis on the other hand did not give a damn for what the French city was known for. He had been serving time in the army for a year now and he couldn’t wait to get out of Germany and spend his week off in another country that was waiting for him to be explored. Or in other words: he couldn’t wait to let loose and attend some parties, curious to know what the French ladies were like. Even though he had girls lining up for him and fighting for his attention back in Germany, he hadn’t gotten any lately and he was feeling a little… touch starved.

‘‘I’m sorry, gentlemen. We’re completely full tonight,’’ the girl sitting at the ticket booth in front of the well-known Moulin Rouge club told the two men in front of her. Frank looked at her as he pointed at Elvis, who could already guess where this was going and swatted his hand away.

‘‘Do you know who this is?’’ He asked her in utter disbelief, nearly scoffing in the poor girls’ face and Elvis smacked his arm, shoving him aside as he stepped forward, giving the girl an apologetic smile. ‘‘I’m so sorry about him. Enjoy your night, darlin’,’’ he told her and she just nodded, not seeming to be bothered by Frank’s behaviour at all, nor the fact that he was Elvis Presley.

Elvis grabbed his friends’ arm and pulled him away from the club, rolling his eyes as Frank pulled his arm free, letting out a laugh. ‘‘What are we gon’ do now, E? It’s 2 in the morning and every goddamn place in Paris is full,’’ Frank exclaimed in slight frustration, spreading his arms. They had only arrived in Paris this morning but hadn’t had much time to do anything since Elvis would be followed around pretty much every day. He didn’t mind it all that much─giving the people the attention they wanted from him, posing for pictures and so on, but both men were looking forward to their first night out in the city. After all, everything is better when the sun goes down, right?

‘‘Let’s just walk and look for a place that’s not full,’’ Elvis sighed, lighting a cigarette as he strided forward. Frank rolled his eyes up to the sky, but before he could follow his friend, the both of them halted their movements as soon as a voice spoke up.

‘‘You’re going the wrong way,’’ a woman leaning against the wall next to a record store told them casually, smoke of her cigarette circling up as she held it in between her fingers elegantly. A small grin tugged at the corner of her red lips, golden brown eyes carrying a mischievous sparkle. The red trench coat she wore hugged all her curves and matched her lips to a perfection, her thick curls framing her face as her bronzed complexion glistened in the flickering neon lights coming from the Moulin Rouge club a few steps back. The two men were taken back for a second, staring at the woman with slightly dropped jaws. Paris was full of beautiful people, but there was something about the woman in front of them. Unconsciously, they were drawn to her and had taken a few steps closer. She laughed softly, taking a small puff from her cigarette, leaving a red stain behind on the bud.

‘‘E-Excuse me?’’ Frank stuttered, snapping out of his little trance as he tried his best to sound calm and collected. She blew out some smoke from the corner of her mouth and threw her cigarette onto the pavement, stepping on it with the pointy heel of her pump. ‘‘I said, you’re going the wrong way. If you want what you’re getting at the Moulin Rouge, and well.. maybe more, you will not find it there,’’ she hummed mysteriously with a soft French accent on her tongue, pointing at the direction they were headed in, as if they knew what kind of places there were. She knew it were all just small jazz bars that were closing up any time now and restaurants that had closed their doors hours ago.

‘‘Well, do you know a place we can go to then?’’ Elvis asked, flashing her a friendly smile as his cigarette hung in between his fingertips loosely, his brain completely forgetting it was there in the first place. ‘‘It’s our first night in Paris and we just wanna have a drink, nothing too crazy,’’

‘‘Soldiers?’’ The woman asked as she pushed herself off of the wall, standing up straight while tightening the strings on her coat, the fabric outlining her body even more. Both Frank and Elvis tried hard to keep their eyes on her face and to not let their eyes wander down to have a peek at said curves and bare legs. ‘‘Yes, ma’am,’’ Elvis said politely as Frank nodded and she let out a laugh, signing for them to come along as she started walking in the other direction. ‘‘Call me Daisy, chéri,’’ she grinned, her heels clicking against the pavement as she didn’t even look back to see if they would follow her. She knew they would─they always did.

Elvis and Frank exchanged a quick look before Frank quickly tugged his friend along, jogging after Daisy. She kept quiet the entire walk to where ever she was taking them, smiling softly as she could hear them whispering to each other now and then. At one point, Frank even voiced out his worries to Elvis about how he was hoping they wouldn’t die in Paris and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling softly. They certainly were not going to die, but she was positive that they would leave this city as new men.

A bubble of nerves mixed with excitement settled into Elvis’ stomach as Daisy turned into a dark alley, the only light that lit up the dark street being a twinkling midnight blue neon sign in the form of a martini glass. Despite the place not even seeming to have a name, there was a broad shouldered man standing by the door, letting the people that were queueing outside in, if he redeemed them worthy to be allowed in that was. It seemed like anyone that had more than just a few drinks were turned down, as well as people that could not prove they were over eighteen. Daisy passed by the line of people and greeted the man at the door, who pressed a kiss on her cheek and opened the black velvet robe, opening the big equally black door. Frank gave Elvis an exciting squeeze in his arm as he heard the music and chattering coming from inside, tugging Elvis along into the club Daisy brought them to.

It was like they were thrown into a completely different world. They were aware of what a burlesque club was and this seemed an awful lot like it, but at the same time, it felt so different. There was a big mahogany bar near the entrance, large mirrors on the wall behind it giving the perfect view of the stage that was located on the other side of the establishment. Bottles of any kind of liquor were lined up against the mirrors and Elvis couldn’t even read some of the labels as they were displayed in all kinds of languages he unfortunately did not speak. The place was nearly filled to the brim with people, sitting at tables that had the perfect view of the girls dancing on the stage, or dancing in any empty spot they could find. French franc’s and American dollars were flying through the air coming from the people closest to the stage, a group of Dutch soldiers spending all their last money on the dancing girls, sticking papers in their outfits or mouths when they allowed it. All the men, and even some women, were watching the girls on stage with hungry eyes and you wouldn’t have to think twice to guess what they were thinking about─despite that, everyone kept their hands to themselves and were very respectful. A strange place, but oh so exciting.

‘‘What is this place?’’ Frank yelled in excitement as he looked at Daisy when she brought Elvis and him over to the bar, waving over the bartender. ‘‘Hmm.. One would say it’s a burlesque club, one would say a gentlemen’s club, but I don’t like that name. The ladies love it too,’’ she hummed mysteriously, winking at Frank as she nodded to some girls at a table, cheering on one of the club girls that was making a show of pretending to remove her stockings, teasing them by rolling them right back up. Elvis laughed excitedly, flashing a grateful smile at Daisy as she handed him a drink. ‘‘It can be whatever you want it to be, that’s fun of this whole place,’’ she smiled brightly, poking both his and Frank’s noses, before she walked off and disappeared behind a curtain near the stage, leaving them behind to enjoy the show.

‘‘Salut, mon amour,’’ you hummed happily as you noticed Daisy walking into your shared dressing room. She walked over to where you were sitting in front of your vanity, hugging you from behind─you squeezed her hands and laughed as you hugged her back, your eyes following her in the mirror as she took off her coat, revealing the shiny black velvet bodysuit she wore that made her legs look like they went on for days, her breasts perfectly squished together. ‘‘Have you been saving poor lost souls from Moulin Rouge and Le Lido again?’’ you grinned knowingly at her, leaning forward to your mirror to continue applying your lipstick. Daisy laughed and sat down in front of her own mirror, leaning her arm on the back of her chair as she grinned at you.

‘‘Well ofcourse, my darlin’. We need to make money too, right?’’

You laughed a little at her reply, but nodded nonetheless. She was definitely right─with the Moulin Rouge and Le Lido being the most famous burlesque clubs in the city, the small mystery club you worked at had to work extra hard to keep up at with the scene. Knowledge of this place got out through word of mouth and although business seemed to be popping, the owner Théodore was up to his neck in debts. He refused to give up his passion for the business and close the club, and you and Daisy used to love this place just as much but you were both ready for bigger and better things. You had big dreams but in order to let them come true, you needed money.

‘‘I can’t wait until we get out of Paris,’’ you sighed deeply as you popped your lips in the mirror, puckering them to make sure you didn’t miss a spot before you put your make-up down. A wide grin spread across Daisy’s face and you could practically feel excitement oozing out of her, making you look at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘‘There might be a chance that we’ll get out of here sooner than expected,’’ Daisy said as she leaned a little closer to you, eyes twinkling in the lights of your vanity. ‘‘Elvis Presley is one of the lost souls I’ve saved tonight,’’ she whispered, as if you two weren’t the only ones in the room. You widened your eyes upon hearing that name, looking at her as if she had grown two heads.

‘‘E-Elvis.. Elvis Presley?’’ You repeated in disbelief, grabbing onto her hands as she nodded, her hair bouncing wildly with her movements. You both were very aware of who the man was, as did the rest of the world, but the fact that he was American excited you even more. Sure, there were American soldiers in here pretty much every night, but back at home they were nobodies. Elvis Presley was someone─someone with status, money, the power to get you out of this hell hole of a city. Yeah, Paris wasn’t all they cranked up to be. ‘‘Y/N, you have to do your solo tonight. The one with the little white corset and the feather skirt,’’ Daisy said with a gasp, and you could almost see a light bulb lighting up above her head. She let go of your hands and walked to the racks of clothing, looking through the fabrics for a little bit until she pulled out the outfit she had in mind─the fabric of the breasts were decorated with small diamonds as well as the seams and the panties you wore with it. The feather like skirt that you’d wrap around your waist to give the outfit a bit of a pop was a shade of very light pink. You had spend months saving up for this outfit and you loved performing in it because it sparkled so prettily in the lights. It was definitely one of your most successful outfits as well, as it always got you the most tips.

‘‘Only if you do your solo in the pearl outfit,’’ you grinned teasingly at her, wiggling your eyebrows─your best friend had a solo she’d do wearing only pearls wrapped around her body, making it seem like it was an outfit. Showed a lot of skin, but not the skin people were so desperate to see. You loved seeing her in it and you knew that Elvis and who ever he brought would too. ‘‘Bébé, it’s like you’re reading my mind,’’ she laughed as she handed you your outfit and grabbed her own. Since your job was basically dancing for money and dressing up, you often wore wigs─this time you decided on a white blonde bob cut with bangs, bringing out the Parisian in you. It was fun to play someone different from who you were in your day to day life, and you always greatly indulged in your roles, making the people in the audience really believe in the show you were putting on.

After you put on your equally as shiny and diamond covered pumps, you and Daisy walked out of the dressing room and as the lights in the club dimmed a little, Daisy quickly informed the band which song she wanted to do tonight before she took her position on the piano. You waited behind the curtains as the lights went back up, music playing as two of your other co-workers revealed Daisy that was laying on the piano from behind the big white feathers they held in front of her. She effortlessly flirted with the piano man as part of her show as she sang her little heart out. You and Daisy were probably the only girls at the club that sang and it got people coming back every time, so Théodore asked you to keep doing it. A lot of girls that worked at the club did not take a great liking to you and your best friend, because you made the most money out of all girls, but it wouldn’t be long until you and Daisy would walk out of here with a rockstar on your arm and follow him to America to make it big. After all, there was no way that you were going to leave your best friend behind in Paris.

As Daisy was wrapping every single person in the audience around her pretty little finger, your eyes scanned the crowd for the one and only Elvis Presley your best friend promised you she had somehow gotten here. When your eyes found him sitting at the bar, sipping his drink and shoulders shaking a little to the music, the wind was almost knocked right out of your lungs. You already knew he was handsome from pictures you had seen, but good Lord, he was absolutely gorgeous. Your fingers clenched around the stage curtain you were hiding behind, biting your lip as your mind was already making up all kinds of stories that included having him in very unholy positions. Rockstar or not, soldiers were always so easy to get on their knees, doing whatever you wanted them to do. Just like his friend, he was dressed up in a suit, making you giggle softly. A dress code was often required at the Moulin Rouge and other places, but in here, everyone just wore whatever they wanted. As long as their pockets were full, Théodore didn’t care what anyone looked like.

When Daisy’s solo came to an end, Elvis and his friend applauded happily as did the rest of the crowd. People at the front were throwing money her way, the locals chanting her name over and over again as they wanted more and more. They always did. You smiled brightly as you let go of the curtain and clapped your hands in excitement as Daisy ran back to you, hands filled with paper. ‘‘You were magnifique as always, mon trésor!’’ you exclaimed theatrically, though you meant every word of it. As all of her performances, this one had been amazing and you could understood why Théodore did not want to let the both of you go. It would have him completely broke by the end of the week, maybe even the middle of it.

‘‘I’ll keep his friend busy, go get him, mon ange,’’ Daisy laughed excitedly, nodding her head to the bar as she air-kissed your cheek, making sure not to get lipstick on your face. You giggled and nodded, tiptoeing on the stage as the lights dimmed once more, informing the band of your choice of music. As you sat yourself on the velvet cushioned bench on the stage, you felt nervous for the first time because you knew that Elvis Presley’s eyes would be on you in only a few seconds. You inhaled some air, making sure to relax every muscle in your body as you gave the guy in charge of the lights a nod, making him light up the club a bit more. As your song started with a soft and gentle piano tune and you started singing, people at the front row were already cheering and losing their minds just like they had with Daisy. You noticed some of the other girls that had been on the stage earlier who were now waitressing rolling their eyes and you had to bite your tongue not to laugh. Both you and Daisy always thrived even more because of their jealousy. The song soon picked up its beat, adding drums and saxophone to your performance and you put on the greatest show of your life, your body moving easily to the rhythm of the music. You made sure to give the people at the front row a flirty smile as you took some money from them, sliding the bills into your corset.

Nearing the end of your song, you took a few steps down the small stairs at the front of the stage and the Dutch soldiers were quick to lift you off of the steps by holding your arms, placing you down on the floor. You danced your way through the crowd, interacting with people and taking their money as you made your way to the bar. You shot a wink at Daisy who was sitting next to Elvis’ friend, your best friend supportively dancing to the music. You sang as you looked at Elvis, grinning playfully as you reached your hand out to him. He widened his eyes a little, taking the hint as got up from his seat and lifted you up by the waist instead, sitting you down on top of the bar. You gasped theatrically as the band had their solo, sliding yourself further up the bar to place your heels on it. Daisy had glued your little blonde wig down so much that you could probably keep it on the entire week, though it made it possible for you to throw your head back as you stretched your leg out, giving the people─and mostly Elvis─the view you wanted them to have. As you got on your knees and swirled your hair around before standing up straight, you kicked the cocktail shaker that bartender put down, making him catch it easily. You had done this so many times before, that all the bartenders were aware of every little performance trick you had up your sleeve. You seductively walked your way over the U-shaped bar, toward the mirrors and danced in front of it before you turned around and gave the bartender a knowing wink. Two of them held your hand as the third leaned over, letting you walk over his back to get to the other side of the bar and in front of Elvis again. You made sure not to dig your heels in too deep and smiled at him as he gave you a quick thumbs up. You finished your song as you sat down on the bar, turning Elvis around so he was facing the audience instead of you before you swung your legs over his shoulders, putting your hands up elegantly while shooting a big fat wink to the people as the song ended.

Elvis felt like he had been thrown in a fever dream. A very pleasurable fever dream, he had to admit. He had seen burlesque shows before in America and while they were exciting and fun to watch, it was nothing like this. The screams of the audience, the live singing, the way you had the crowd in the palm of your hand. Including him. It was all so thrilling and so risqué. As you lifted your legs off of his shoulders and thanked some people who gave you money, you took the drink the bartender handed you and looked at Elvis who had turned back to face you, flushed cheeks and wild electric blue eyes.

‘‘You.. You were amazing,’’ he breathed out, letting out a laugh as he reached out some money to your corset. As he slipped it behind the fabric and his fingertips touched the flesh of your breast, you could’ve sworn your entire body was set aflame. Now that you could take a good look at him from up close, you could definitely understand why so many girls would scream and cry upon the sight of him. He was strikingly beautiful and you were definitely planning on having some fun with him tonight, and the day after, and after, and after… You could get used to seeing his face every day of the rest of your life.

‘‘I know,’’ you smiled at him, taking a sip of your drink as you crossed your legs while still sitting on the bar. ‘‘I did not expect to see you here tonight, mr. Presley. Has Paris treated you well?’’ you hummed, making your voice sound extra flirty, accent extra thick. Americans loved girls with accents.

‘‘It’s only my first night, honey. But I like it very much,’’ he said, his Southern drawl sounding very interesting and very sexy to your ears. He gave you a knowing smile, as he obviously meant you as his reasoning for liking Paris. You smiled brightly and slipped your hand down the collar of his blazer, fixing it a little. Your eyes sneakily met those of Daisy and you two exchanged a wink as she clinked her glass against Frank’s, giggling at something he whispered in her ear. ‘‘What’s your name, darlin’?’’ Elvis asked, making you look at him again with a slight head tilt, squinting your eyes teasingly as if you were contemplating on whether you were going to give him your real name or not. But his eyes looked so hopeful and so cute, so you figured having him know your real name wouldn’t be so bad. After all, you were planning on having this man take you out of Europe─a girl’s gotta play her cards right.

‘‘It’s Y/N, mon chéri,’’ you smiled, reaching your hand out to him. He took it, grinning as he kissed your knuckles, though he didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he intertwined your fingers together and casually held onto your hand as his other hand landed on your thigh, smirk tugging at his lips. ‘‘A pretty name for a pretty girl,’’ he complimented, as if you hadn’t heard that one a thousand times before. No matter where they came from, all soldiers were the same. Though when it came from him, it sent a tingle down your spine but you weren’t going to tell him that. It was true that you wanted him, but you were not planning on acting like one of his lovesick fans. You knew you already had him in the palm of your hand, even though he thought he was the one in charge here. You rolled your eyes slightly and laughed as you gently pushed him off, placing your drink down before you jumped off the bar.

‘‘I’m going to get changed, mr. Presley. When I come back, make sure you finished your drink, okay?’’ you told him sweetly, leaving a lipstick stain behind as you kissed his cheek. As you passed by Daisy, you squeezed her arm softly and laughed as you quickly ran off to your dressing room. You put all your money away and took your performance outfit off, putting it away before you put on your own clothes again which you had worn when you came here─a tight fitted black dress which was probably a little shorter than what modest women wore nowadays, but you weren’t exactly a modest women. You were a showgirl, a free spirited one. Didn’t like to be part of the crowd, but would much rather stick out in one. You kept the wig on. Because one, it looked kinda cute and two, it would probably take you hours to get it off. You fixed your make-up a little, spraying some perfume around you before you grabbed your clutch and stepped into your pumps before you walked back to the bar and over to Daisy.

‘‘Let me know if that wig is sex proof,’’ she whispered teasingly at you and you threw your head back with a laugh, nodding at her as you hugged her. You gave Frank a quick wave before you shrugged your coat on and took Elvis’ hand, smiling at him.

‘‘Where are you taking me?’’ He laughed softly as you pulled him outside, taking him out of the alley and away from the club. You let go of his hand and hooked your arm through his instead, smiling innocently as you looked up at him. ‘‘My house,’’ you shrugged casually and even though Elvis was surprised, he tried his best not to show it. Guess he didn’t have to work as hard as he thought. ‘‘I have been working all night and I want some coffee. The club’s coffee is not very good,’’ you chuckled and he nodded, letting you take him to your place. The walk there was short, but enjoyable nonetheless. He told you a little bit about his hometown and his time in Germany, telling you how he both liked and disliked being enlisted into the army and you told him you were glad he had become a soldier, otherwise you probably would not have met him. As you arrived at your apartment and you opened the door, stepping inside, he grinned at you.

‘‘Didn’t even have to use one of those creative pickup lines, huh?’’

‘‘It’s only coffee, mr. Presley,’’ you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. You obviously weren’t planning on having only coffee with the man and he damn well knew that too. ‘‘Elvis,’’ he said as he followed you into the open spaced kitchen of your small apartment, leaning against the counter as you flicked some lights on, taking your coat off. ‘‘Call me Elvis,’’ he smiled as you looked at him and he took your coat from you, hanging it up by the front door. You hummed with a nod, making some coffee for the both of you, despite it being in the middle of the night. To you, it was usual routine.

‘‘Do you often bring men back to your apartment?’’ He asked as he blew at the dark liquid in the cup you handed him, eyes boring into yours as a teasing grin lingered on his face. You chuckled softly, taking a sip of your coffee. ‘‘Only if they’re as cute as you,’’ you teased back, licking your lips as you put the steaming hot coffee down, taking a step closer to him. You grabbed onto his jacket, biting your lip as your eyes wandered down to his plumb lips. ‘‘There’s not a lot of those out there, so no, Elvis. Not often,’’ you grinned and he put his coffee down on the counter, snaking his arms around your waist, pressing you against him. You stood in between his long legs, hands moving up his shoulders to wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

‘‘You know somethin’?’’ he hummed, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as the smell of his cologne entered your nostrils, making your heart jump with excitement. ‘‘When you were up there, on that stage.. I could barely keep my eyes off of you,’’

‘‘Barely? Do not lie to me, Elvis. You were undressing me with your eyes,’’ you stated boldly, the tip of your nose touching his as his lips ghosted over yours. He laughed softly as he nodded, softly pressing his lips against yours. He was gentle and sweet and as he deepened the kiss, you let him take the lead for a little bit. You let him believe he was the dominant one in the room, you let him fantasize about how you’d be screaming his name, but boy… was he in for a surprise. You slipped your hands down and grabbed his hands, pulling away from the kiss as you smiled at him and took him to your bedroom, pecking his lips as you gently pushed him to sit down on your bed. You turned on the light on your bedside table, holding back a giggle as he eagerly took off his blazer, throwing it to the foot of the bed. He kicked off his shoes as he pushed himself further up the bed, leaning against your pillow while he watched you intensely as you pulled up your dress a little before you straddled his waist. You leaned down to capture his lips into a heated kiss as your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them as you kissed your way down his neck and chest, pushing his shirt open. He gasped softly as he looked down at you when you unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of the loops of his pants. He watched with confused but curious eyes as you threw the belt on the bed next to you and reached for his blazer, smiling at him. You figured you’d go a little easy on him, leaving the belt for another time.

‘‘I’d take that off if I were you,’’ you told him, nodding to the shirt he was still wearing. He had no idea what you were up to and while part of him wanted to question you on it, he kept his mouth shut and did exactly as he was told to do when he saw that cute grin on your face and mischievous twinkle in your eye. Taking the shirt off, he let it fall to the floor next to your bed before leaning back. You hummed softly and grabbed his hands, holding them above his head and against the metal bars of your bed. When you moved your body up a bit to hover above his chest, wrapping the sleeves of his blazer around his wrists and your bed, he widened his eyes a little. ‘‘W-What are you d-doing?’’ he stuttered out in a panic, looking at you when you moved down again after you had made sure he was firmly tied up. His brain and body were fighting each other─while he was in slight panic and confusion, maybe he was even a little scared, the bulge that was formed in his pants told a whole ‘nother story. You bit your lip as you giggled softly, hands pulling the zipper of his pants down.

‘‘If you want me to stop, all you need to do is say so, Elvis,’’ you hummed, fluttering your eyelashes at him innocently. When you pulled his pants down a little and traced your fingertips along the aforementioned bulge over the fabric of his boxershorts, he groaned softly, his toes curling involuntarily. Maybe the best thing to do here was to think with the rational side of his brain. He didn’t even know you and here he was, tied up in your bed after not even having been in your apartment for fifteen minutes. Instead, he let go of the reigns and let his body take over, muscles in his lower abdomen tightening with anticipation as you took his pants completely off, pulling them off of his ankles. You smiled at him as you shot him a quick wink, settling yourself on your knees in his spread out legs. He felt exposed under your intense gaze and a blush crept onto his cheeks as you very obviously looked at the small stain that had formed in the fabric of his underwear because he was leaking already. In his defense, it had been probably over a year since he had sex with anyone and while he wouldn’t admit it, he was desperate. Desperate to be touched, to be held, to be loved. Even if it was done by a stranger for just one night somewhere in the dead of the night in Paris.

You moved your hands up his thighs, feeling how tense he was made you smile. You were sure nobody ever has had Elvis in this kind of position and you kind of felt honored to be the first one. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bold with first-timers. You at least gave them some kind of warning first, tell them what you were into, the kind of role you liked in the bedroom. But God, it was like you could barely contain yourself when it came to him. Tough, dominant exterior… and you couldn’t wait to crack it. To break him.

When your hands disappeared into the legs of his boxershorts and your hand wrapped around his cock, he gasped as his fingers grasped onto the fabric of the blazer he was tied up with. You squeezed him in your palm softly as your hand moved up, fingertips caressing the head of his cock to spread some of the slick of his precum around. His eyes fluttered shut as you started jerking him off very slowly and softly, though the squeeze of your hand was firm. As you looked up at him and saw how his face was silently contorted in pleasure, you grinned devilishly to yourself and stopped your movements, pulling your hand out of his underwear.

‘‘I can always stop if you want me to,’’ you spoke casually and his eyes shot open, widening as he looked at you. He inhaled some air, clearing his throat as he shook his head, heat rushing to his face. ‘‘N-No.. P-Please.. Don’t stop,’’ he whispered, bucking his hips up a little and you just loved the desperation that was lingering on the back of his tongue. You could see how much it took for him to even say that, but you were sure you could have him begging before the sun came up. You flashed him a sweet smile, hooking your fingertips behind the hem of his boxershorts as you pulled them down without warning. Excitement bubbled in Elvis’ stomach as you took them all the way off and threw them behind you, moving yourself to sit on your ass in between his slightly spread legs, your dress riding up─when you put your legs over his thighs, pretty much trapping him on your bed, he had the perfect view of your lace panties. He goddamn nearly lost his mind and you hadn’t even done anything.

‘‘Have you ever been edged, Elvis?’’ You questioned sweetly as your nails caressed up his thighs, making goosebumps cover every inch of his skin. He inhaled a shaky breath as your hands creeped closer to his cock and no matter how much he anticipated the feeling of your hand wrapping back around him, the feeling never came. His eyes met yours as he shook his head, fingertips releasing around his blazer, gently grabbing onto the bars of your bed. ‘‘No.. What’s that?’’ He asked, the question making him feel inexperienced, as if he was about to have his virginity taken away. He hated that feeling, but when you gave him a sweet smile, he almost melted. He had no idea what it was about you that had this kind of effect on him, but he was excited to see what you had in store for him. Nervous too, but good nervous.

‘‘Hmm.. I think it’s better if you go in blindly to experience it. Do you trust me?’’ You asked him, your hands squeezing his thighs a little and he bit his lip, staring at you for a few seconds. He was trying to crack his brain as to what it could be what you were about to do, but he was so turned on and so desperate, that he nodded before he could even stop himself. Weirdly enough, he did trust you to some point. You had him tied up in your bed already and he was still alive─what could go wrong?

He hated himself for agreeing to this. He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself. Never ever in his life could he have predicted that he would be in a situation like this. A French showgirl jerking him off to the point of his orgasm nearing, but every time he was about to fall over the edge, you stopped your movements and pulled away your hands, making whine as he grabbed onto his blazer and the metal bars harder, chest heaving as he pushed his head back in the pillow. You were only on the third round and while you had given him a safe word, he hadn’t used it yet. He couldn’t, not when you’d go back and start all over again, making his body melt back into the bed and his brain turn into cotton.

You were smiling devilishly to yourself, arousal growing between your own thighs every time he whimpered and moaned, his toes curling. The head of his cock was red and angry, desperate for relief but you weren’t giving it to him. Closing your fingertips around the tip to mimick the feeling of him being inside of you, your movements were quick and relentless, your other hand massaging his balls skilfully. He lifted his head from the pillow, looking down at you as he breathed heavily through his teeth, jaw clenched. He tried to keep his head up to look at what you were doing, but it was like he no longer had control over his body and he couldn’t stop his head from falling back down. You had pressed your thighs against his, preventing him from closing his legs or moving them. He was writhing in the sheets, hands tugging at the blazer as he was so desperate to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. But you having your way with him was such a sinful pleasure and he didn’t wanted it to stop.

‘‘You’re doing so well, baby,’’ you hummed, praising him as he was moaning pathetically. The compliment had his heart leaping in his chest and he immediately felt his orgasm nearing once more, rolling his head to the side to look down at you. ‘‘P-Please, Y/N,’’

‘‘Please what?’’ you smiled innocently at him, tilting your hand as you slowed down your movements, letting them come to a halt once more when you felt him twitching in your hand and saw the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening. The longer you went on with your little game, the faster his orgasm would peek around the corner. ‘‘I.. I.. I wanna c-cum,’’ he whined with a stutter, his hips thrusting forward as he pushed the back of his head back in the pillow, imagining having your hand around him again. You looked at him and laughed softly, squeezing his balls softly, stealing another soft moan from him. ‘‘So soon?’’

He let out a weak laugh at that, shaking his head side to side in the pillow before he slowly opened his eyes and looked down at you. God, he looked so gorgeous with those flushed cheeks and hint of desperation in those blue eyes. It made your own arousal grow more and more, made you wanna push him further to the edge. ‘‘Three more rounds,’’ you told him and he swallowed thickly, his throat so dry it felt like he was swallowing knives. You gently wrapped your hand around him, slipping it up once as you pouted cutely at him. He licked his lips, hips slowly moving in your hand as he nodded. ‘‘Only three,’’ he said, trying to sound stern, but you didn’t even give him time to recover as you picked up your pace a bit more, making him fall back on the pillow once more. He had no idea if he could even survive three more rounds, but he just couldn’t get himself to use the safe word.

On the fifth round, he didn’t even recognize himself anymore. The moans and whines that were rolling off his tongue sounded foreign to him, his brain completely empty as the only thing he could focus on were your hands that were wrapped around him, doing tricks he never experienced in his 24 years of life. At some points, it felt like he was standing next to the bed, having an out of body experience as he was looking at the whole thing go down but as you stopped your movements once more when he was about to slip into euphoria, he slipped right back into the softness of your mattress. A hot tear rolled down his cheek as he let out an animalistic groan, wrists rubbing painfully against the fabric of his blazer because he couldn’t keep them still.

‘‘Please, please… p-please,’’ he cried out, his hips having a mind of their own as they kept thrusting into nothingness. Your laugh sounded so cruel and hot at the same time, but he wasn’t in the right mind to comment on it. He looked down at you, his cock twitching uncontrollably and desperately. ‘‘Can I cum? Please, I c-can’t.. I can’t anymore,’’

‘‘One more, chéri,’’ you smiled sweetly at him as you kicked the heels you were still wearing off and onto the floor, crawling out from between his legs to sit next to him. You leaned down and kissed his lips. It was only a peck, but he needily tried to chase your lips. He wanted more, he needed more. Since it was his first time, you decided to at least go a little easy on him. You pulled the knot out of the blazer sleeves, letting him lower his arms. He was breathing heavily, rubbing his arms a little to let them get used to the change of position. You quickly got up from the bed and he watched with curious eyes, smiling softly as you came back with a glass of water. Kissing his cheek, you handed it to him and he drank half of it before he put it on the bedside table. You gently pushed him forwards a little, slipping behind him so he’d be in between your legs. The position was foreign to him and it made him feel even more submissive than before, but he loved it.

He was too far gone to even think about how dominant he usually was, and he leaned against you, immediately kissing you back when you planted your lips on his again. His hands were running up and down your legs, squeezing the flesh of your thighs under his palms a little as he moaned when you sucked on his bottom lip. ‘‘I know you can do this, baby,’’ you smiled at him, running your fingers through his hair before you cupped his cheek. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he finally had a few minutes to catch his breath before you’d start your delicious torture on him for the last time. ‘‘You’ve done so good all night, baby boy. Are you ready to cum now?’’ You grinned at him and his fingers dug into your skin at the praise and use of the pet name, making his cock twitch needily. He immediately nodded his head, moaning softly as you pecked his lips once more before reaching your hand down, once more wrapping around him.

With his hands free now, he had no idea what to do with them. You had started out slow this time and while he appreciated it, it didn’t take him long to get needy and beg for you to go faster. You gave him what he wanted, your hands moving at a fast and steady pace and with every squeeze of your palm and every swirl of your thumb around his tip, he was getting closer. He threw his head against your shoulder, letting go of your legs to grab onto the sheets for dear life. ‘‘Oh.. F-fuck, p-please, bunny!’’ he was moaning desperately, the pet name slipping out without thinking as he begged for relief and this time, you were more than willing to give it to him. You snaked your free hand around his neck, fingertips holding onto his jaw as you looked down at him with a seductive grin on your face and the only thing he could do was stare at you with wild eyes, moaning in desperation as his hips tried to follow the movements of your hand. ‘‘You’re so pretty, Elvis darling,’’ you hummed, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his and his eyes fluttered shut at the compliment, bringing him closer to the edge. You giggled softly and looked down at his cock in your hand, your cheek pressing softly against his as you still held his jaw in your fingertips. Your grip wasn’t firm, but he liked the position and did not even dare to move away.

‘‘You wanna cum, baby?’’ You questioned sweetly and his knuckles were turning white with how hard he was squeezing your sheets, moaning as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. ‘‘Y-Yes.. P-Please, Y/N.. P-please,’’ he begged, toes curling, arching his back a little. You grinned and turned your head, pressing a tiny kiss against the shell of his ear. ‘‘Cum, chéri. Let it all go, my pretty boy,’’ you whispered in his ear and it was all he needed to hear. He was writhing against you, shameless moans and whines rolling over his tongue as he came undone in your hand─he was squeezing his eyes shut, seeing white spots that contrasted against the dark of his closed eyelids harshly, hips stuttering uncontrollably as he just kept spilling and spilling. In his brain, it felt like ages until he had completely emptied out, with the help of your hand milking all of him. His chest was heaving fast as if he had just ran a marathon, head leaning against your shoulder as a soft whine escaped him when you removed your hand, a big smile on your face.

‘‘Oh my God,’’ he breathed out and you laughed softly, biting your lip as you admired his face from up close while he was catching his breath. He looked so fucked out and so blissful, small grin tugging at his lips. You couldn’t wait to do this and so much more a few more times during his week in Paris─Daisy was going to lose her mind when you’d tell her all about it.

‘‘I need a damn cigarette,’’ he mumbled as you had gotten up from the bed and walked into your bathroom to wash your hands and grab a dampened wash cloth. Walking back to him, you laughed softly and dug your hand into the pocket of his pants, throwing his pack of cigarettes at him. He rolled onto his back, lighting a cigarette as he stared up at the ceiling. ‘‘You’re amazing,’’ he blew out some smoke, his eyes meeting yours as you hovered over him, cleaning him up. You grinned, shooting him a wink. ‘‘I know, baby,’’

He bit his lip at the pet name, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows to get a better view of you. ‘‘Are you free tomorrow? Well… today,’’

You looked at him as you raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He held out his cigarette in front of your face and you took a small drag from it, smiling softly at him. ‘‘I can be if you want to,’’ you hummed as you blew out the smoke and he sat up more, crashing his lips onto yours. You giggled softly, slipping one arm around his neck as you kissed him back.

‘‘I want to,’’ he breathed as he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead against yours. ‘‘Will you wait? Less than a year, and I’ll get out of the army,’’

You pulled back and raised both your eyebrows now, looking at him in surprise. You honestly hadn’t expected him to ask you this─you weren’t planning on letting this be a one time thing, but you thought you would’ve worked harder to keep him around. After all, he was the man. Could get anyone he wanted, had girls lining up in every corner of the world. What you didn’t know, was that you completely turned his world upside down. You brought out a side in him that he wasn’t even aware of having, but he wanted to explore that side of himself more. Together with you. You thought he was joking, until he spoke up again.

‘‘Wanna be your pretty boy,’’ he whispered, teeth sinking into his lower lip as heat rushed to his face. You nearly jumped his bones in that exact moment, but you wouldn’t forgive yourself for killing the poor boy on his first night in Paris. You smiled brightly, leaning forward to peck his lips.

‘‘I’ll wait,’’ you told him, tilting your head as you watched him lean back a little. ‘‘But only if you behave yourself with those German girls,’’ you warned him, playfulness lacing your tongue. He caught the playful tone, but he immediately nodded his head and smiled sweetly at you. ‘‘I promise,’’

You looked down at his pinky he was sticking out to you and laughed softly, hooking your own around it as your eyes met his, grin on your face.

‘‘Good boy,’’

[thegleamingmoon]

'As a part of life,

You reside in me since eternity'

☘

Draped in soft pink silk with a little red lotus tucked behind her ear, minimal jewellery of pearls and corals adorned her frame while her long and wavy ebony black hair were left open. Lakshmi, the enchanting lady of Vaikuntha still looked like the personified auspiciousness that she was. A sweet smile played on those delicate lips of her jubilant self who was seated on the thousand hooded serpent in solitude.

‘ Like the warm breath in my chest,

I'll weave you (into me) with excitement. ’

Her silver anklets tinkled in soft melody as she slightly dipped her lotus feet in the sublime waters of the milky ocean which flowed in tranquillity, ever basking in the joyous presence of Harini. A small naamam shone on her golden forehead as she lost herself in the thoughts of her lord, feeling the bliss of Narayana, whose divine name sang through every pore of Vishnuloka and herself. Wasn't he, her radiant sunshine. Her very soul ?

"Praneshvari"

She knew he was near as she felt the cool breeze rush to her making her heart flutter in happiness as her gaze lowered to her feet in bashfulness. The deep, soothing voice melted into her ears as two well built arms gently hold her by her delicate shoulders and she stood facing her beloved lord ever resplendent in his Pitambaram, devoid of the usual crown on his head and yet looking every inch majestic.

‘ With a smile of seven colours like a visible rainbow,

You sparkle in my sky. ’

‘ In each word, you became a river.

In each gaze, you became a moonbeam. ’

Srinivasa couldn't help but admire, cherishing the way she looked at him with those innocently mischievous eyes of hers. Large, lotus-like that surpassed the depths of the oceans, gleaming with unceasing devotion and strength. She undoubtedly was his precious golden lotus. His sweet enigma.

‘ Like the sea where the waves sing,

Hey beauty with innocent eyes,

My heart keeps searching slowly (for you)’

The breeze made her curls sway, framing her moon-like face as his heart skipped a beat. And while gently pushing the strands of her hair behind her ears,he pressed his soft,red lips against her tender forehead. Blissfully adoring his darling queen as her soft cheeks turned into a deep shade of crimson under his loving gaze.

Too stunned to speak, the blushing lady hid herself in the warm embrace of the raincloud-hued one. And he only held her tighter, he was never letting her go. Treasuring her in his arms to be with her forevermore.

☘

‘ Like rain drizzling in me,

Like the warmth of sunlight touching my eyes,

Constantly... is your love. ’

‘ Like a breeze embracing my chest,

Like the river's gurgling flow everyday,

Hey beauty... this is love. ’

******

Image taken from Pinterest.

Had written this long back for Wattpad. Found a lot of mistakes and choppy writing *laughs* so thought of editing this a bit and posting it here as well. The lines in bold are some translated lines of a beautiful Malayalam song that inspired me to write this. I will link the song and the translation below. Thanks for reading <3

Jeevamshamayi - from Theevandi (2018)

Translation

*******

Mentions - @harinishivaa @houseofbreadpakoda @ramayantika @krsnaradhika @kaal-naagin @khushireadsandrambles

Sorry if I forgot anyone.

[ateez-himari]

SOCIAL MEDIA UPDATES 231123

NEW UPLOAD FROM ATEEZ

ateez_official_ [🎂] HAPPY BIRTHDAY HIMARI

Happy birthday to Himari 🎉 Please leave the comments with love for her!💌

#ATEEZ #애이티즈 #HIMA #히머리

23 November 2023 • See Original

NEW UPLOAD FROM MINGI

ATEEZ(에이티즈) @ATEEZofficial

[#민기] Happy birthday angel ❤️ Our little baby is finally growing up and has now been lighting up the sky with her bright smile for 22 years. For 5 of those years I've been lucky enough to have you in my life and I'm not letting you leave it any time soon. I love you...let's celebrate! ❤️❤️❤️ #ATEEZ #애이티즈

Translated from Korean by Google

9:31am. · 23 Nov 23 · 3.7M Views 39K Reposts 1,473 Quotes 2.5M Likes

halakoala @halalalalalazia Replying to @ATEEZofficial hang on are they kissing in the first pic?! what's going on?! dating announcement?! song mingi?! min himari?!😳

lightiny @bulleobulleooo Replying to @ATEEZofficial he takes the prettiest pictures of her 🥹 and the way he called her angel- i cant take this anymore they're teasing us i can feel it-

Hwanakin Skywalker @hwaslegos Replying to @ATEEZofficial i've been an atiny since their debut and it's so strange to see that Hima is 22 now. She still seems like our shy little girl on the survival show😭🩵

Uyu @bulleobulleooo Replying to @ATEEZofficial KQ?? THE 1ST PHOTO?? DEFEND YOURSELF 🫣But also Happy birthday to our princess omg finally!❤️

NEW UPLOADS FROM THE MEMBERS

Seonghwa [Twitter] & Hongjoong [Twitter]

[성화] Peek a boo! Happy birthday princess! 🩵👑 Let's eat lots of cake today! [홍중] Weren't you 17 yesterday...Happy Hima Day 😘 I'll keep cherishing you and protecting you well so you can stay this happy, I promise

Yunho [TOKTOQ] & Yeosang [Twitter]

[윤호] Mari-ah finally you're growing up!❤️Happy 22nd birthday (thank you for always making such delicious food and being so shiny) [여상] Our treasure is getting older today🤗Not quite a big tiger yet though...still a cub until you turn 30, or maybe even 50 ㅎㅎ

San [TOKTOQ] & Mingi [TOKTOQ]

[산] I wonder where she's looking...to her birthday and it's today! My little nyang-teez partner happy you day❤️ [민기] A little cat sleeping ㅎㅎㅎ I wish this platform had space for all the pretty pictures I have of you :(

Wooyoung [TOKTOQ] & Jongho [TOKTOQ]

[우영] How can she sleep so soundly like this ㅋㅋㅋ Our strange little tiger is finally 22 ❤️ Time for my revenge for the cake face >:) [종호] To our little sunshine bringer of good luck happy 22nd birthday ❤️ Born at such a cold time in the year yet so warm no matter the weather

23 November 2023 • See Originals

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

This is a story from the current collection event. Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

I slowly pulled my hair up to signal him and called his name.

Today, I waited on top of the tower for my beloved to arrive.

.......

One day, when the sky was clear and far away, he suddenly appeared.

???: "Whoa! I've been wondering about what kind of treasure this tower holds, but I never expected to find a gorgeous princess here."

(A man!?)

It seemed that the man had climbed up through my hair, dangling from the balcony, right before my mom showed up.

I tensed up, surprised, but he just laughed cheerfully.

Mitsuki: "Sorry to rain on your parade, but I'm not a princess, and there's no treasure here."

???: "Heh, you're surprisingly feisty. I like it."

Drake: "I'm Francis Drake, a pirate. Right now, I've anchored my ship in the harbor beyond this forest."

Drake: "Wait, saying I'm a pirate might make you more scared. Anyway, nice to meet you."

From then on, he became interested in me and would frequently climb the tower using my hair.

At first, I was cautious, but over time, I grew comfortable with his friendly nature.

Drake: "I managed to crawl up the cliff from the bottom of the ravine, and that's how Captain Drake narrowly escaped danger."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, that's so cool. Your tales are more interesting than any books in this room."

Drake would tell me funny stories about what happened during his voyages.

Even though I'd only ever known life in the tower, his stories filled me with a thrilling sense of adventure.

Mitsuki: "I'd also love to go to the sea."

Drake: "Shall I take you there someday?"

He suddenly lifted my hand, and my heart skipped a beat.

Drake: "You've been in this tower since you can remember, right?"

Mitsuki: "Yes. My mother told me never to leave this tower because the outside world is dangerous."

Drake: "Living in this tower without any troubles might seem peaceful, but to me, it feels like being in a cage."

Drake: "Are you sure you want to stay like this forever, Mitsuki?"

Mitsuki: "I..."

His unwavering gaze felt like it could peer into my heart.

(To be honest, I want to go outside. And if possible, I'd like to go with him.)

I felt happy whenever he came to see me. And as I listened to his stories, my heart started to long for more.

(But am I even allowed to be with him?)

As I hesitated to answer, Drake let out a faint smile.

Drake: "Sorry. I shouldn't have expected you to reply immediately. I just want to hear your feelings before I go."

Mitsuki: "Before you go?"

Drake: "Actually, I'm set to depart tomorrow."

Mitsuki: "........"

With a hint of regret, Drake tightly held my hand.

Drake: "I'm glad I met you, Mitsuki. Take care."

Our hands, once intertwined, gently separated.

I cried that night, remembering his goodbye, and my mom found out that I had met him.

The following day, the sky went wild, almost like my mom's fury had called a storm.

(It's raining heavily. Did he already set sail?)

I couldn't see the ocean from the tower, and the heavy rain and strong winds just made me even more anxious. Helpless, I prayed for his safety, but then, suddenly—

Drake: "Hup! Phew, I finally made it."

Mitsuki: "Drake!? How did you manage to get here without my hair?"

Drake: "Haha, don't underestimate a pirate."

Despite being completely drenched, he crossed the balcony railing and showed me a grappling hook, grinning.

Drake: "I couldn't give up on the treasure, so I took advantage of the storm to snatch you, princess."

(He went through the storm for me.)

Mitsuki: "But Drake, I..."

At that moment, Drake cupped my cheeks with both hands and silenced me with a kiss.

When his wet lips parted from mine, his clear eyes reflected mine.

Drake: "Don't say anything. I'll take your hesitations, your heart, everything."

Drake: "I want you, so entrust yourself to me completely, Mitsuki."

His face came closer again, and this time, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him closer.

(Even if there's a storm ahead, I won't be afraid as long as he's with me.)

Amid the raging storm, I felt my heart fill with excitement as I looked forward to the new adventure with him.

Fin.