#wake up open the door and escape to the sea

[azucar-skull]

A Mile In His Shoes

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @fire-lightz

Fandom: Rise of the TMNT

Prompt: (ROTTMNT) Leo and Donnie swap bodies on a botched mission. The spell reverses after 48 hours, but... how long can they pretend to be each other until it goes wrong? And what can they learn about each other?

Word Count: 5775

Posted on AO3 too!

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“Hurry up, Nardo! We need to go!”, Donnie gripes.

“Ugh! Just- Gimme a sec!”, Leo rolls his eyes.

“You get 5 minutes before the tank leaves without you!”

Honestly, Donnie just can’t seem to understand why his figurative twin just takes so long to get ready. They don’t even wear clothes, to be honest. Just their ninja gear. So why is Leo looking himself over in the mirror all the time before they head out? It’s not going to make his baldness go away.

Leo had about 27 seconds left on the timer until he finally shows up in the turtle tank with the others. The team rolls out to the bank where a wizard yokai is caught stealing from the bank and about to make an escape. The wizard bolts out the front doors and starts heading for the streets before Raph swerves the tank right in front of the wizard, blocking his path. The team jumps out the tank, weapons at the ready.

“Stop right there, pointy hat! Give us the goods!”, Raph orders.

“Hocus pocus, you lose your focus!”, the wizard cackles before blowing a puff cloud of pink glitter at Raph.

Raph coughs as the cloud hits him before shaking his head in a daze. He looks around the scenery confused.

“Wait…what..? Where…am I?”, the snapper mutters.

“Raph, focus !”, Mikey gripes.

“Ah, right. Right…uhh…focus on what now?”

Mikey rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the enemy at large. He charges at the wizard, swinging his nunchucks in a mystic orange hue.

“Come and get some, dumb- ble- dork !”, the box turtle taunts.

“Tweedledum and Tweedledee! You are now the king of bees!”, the wizard cackles again before throwing yellow pocket glitter out of his robe at the turtle.

Mikey yelps as he’s hit in the eyes, rubbing them profusely. Before suddenly he hears a loud swarm of ominous buzzing from behind him. Mikey spins around to see a sea of bees pummeling towards him. Mikey screams in a panic as he runs around, flailing about and swatting away at the onslaught of bees attacking him.

Which leaves the disaster twins. Donnie knows Leo will try to jump in haphazardly which is why Donnie needs to think up of a plan fast before he does-

“I got it!”, Leo calls out.

“No, I got it!”, Donnie snarks.

The two run into each other, bumping shoulders as they try to fight for whose turn it is to go against the villain next. And yet, the wizard cackles at their bickering as the two try to stumble towards him. And Donnie knows it as a sign that the villain is about to strike another spell at them.

“You can never tell what the other is going through, until you walk a mile in his shoes!”

A glittery cloud of mauve and cyan mixed together erupts for the wizard’s sleeve. Donnie stops his squabbling with Leo to push his brother back in an attempt to save them. But he is a second too late. The cloud hits.

And Donnie blacks out.

Donnie’s head is left spinning for a bit when he wakes up. Whatever spell the wizard put on him must be a concussion spell if that makes any sort of sense. The softshell blearily blinks his eyes open and finds himself on the other side of the road that he ran to. Weird, how’d he end up over here? He pushed Leo this way, he was sure. He must’ve been thrown, sure feels like it from how stiff his back is.

Donnie pushes himself up, reaching for his katana- Wait, katana? No, that’s Leo’s. Where’s his bo staff? And better yet…why’s Donnie’s hand…

A brighter green?

Donnie yelps as he looks down at himself. Bright green, triangular body shape, yellow stripes on his arms and thighs. No, that can’t be right! What…

“Guh…”, Leo groans off to the side. “That was so not cowabunga.”

And when Donnie looks over at him, his fears are confirmed. Donnie watches as his own body wakes up, his voice replaced with Leo’s. Leo takes one look at Donnie, stunned and confused, before looking at himself and beginning to scream.

“Oh please, Nardo. Is my body really that hideous to you?”, Donnie gripes.

“No no no no no! My beautiful complexion! My style! And EUGH purple is not my color! Donnie, change us back right now!”, Leo exasperates, staggering to a stand and marching over to his figurative twin.

Donnie huffs in annoyance as he takes a stand as well. “Oh, I would gladly like us to switch back. As soon as we find that wizard.”

“I have him.”, a low voice drawls from ahead.

The two look up to see Draxum has entered the scene, holding one of his pocket dimension orbs in one hand and checking over Mikey’s bee stings as well. Raph is still in a bit of a daze but some clarity seems to be coming back to him.

“UGH great, of course Draxum’s here.”, Leo rolls his eyes (Donnie’s eyes?) back into his skull.

“Since when was Donnie the one so annoyed about seeing Draxum?”, Raph mumbles.

“Because Donnie is now Leo, dear Raphala.”, Donnie sighs.

“I- Wait…WHAT?”, Mikey snaps his head up at the two. “...Huh, you know, it’s actually hard to tell.”

“Hard to? Oh, come on you guys!”, Leo throws his hands up. He starts his protest march over to Draxum. “Draxum, you better change us back right now or I swear I’ll be the one to throw you off a roof!”

“...Okay, nevermind, I take it back.”

Draxum scoffs as he stands up straight, inspecting the two. “Trust me, I’ve had my eye out for this wizard for a while. One of my old colleagues whose ambition got the better of him. Knowing him, this body swap spell will wear off within 48 hours.”

“48 HOURS?!?!”, the twins exclaim in sync.

“Yes, yes, you’ll just simply have to make do for the rest of the weekend.”, Draxum wavers a hand, completely unfazed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to get this wizard back into custody before the human police show up. And I suggest that you four do the same. Don’t leave me to clean up your mess again.”

“OH you got SOME NERVE , Draxum!”, Leo shouts. But Draxum is simply starting to walk away as Leo continues to shout at him. “Why can’t you help us? Surely, there’s some kind of mystic mumbo jumbo you got in that lab of yours that can get rid of this! Hey! Get back here, you old deadbeat! UGH!!”

“Relax, Donnie-”, Raph sighs.

“Leo.”

“Oh, right, Leo. Heh, that’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“Eugh, great, it’s like we’re identical twins now that always get confused for the other.”, Donnie gripes.

Mikey beams up to a stand, still scratching his bee stings and the ointment that Draxum gave him. “Well hey, it’s not so bad. Maybe you two will learn something about each other.”

“Not now, Miguel.”, Leo mutters.

“No, this can be a good thing! You two are always fighting with each other and I’m growing sick of it. Now, you two can finally-”

“MIKEY I SAID NOT NOW!”, Leo snaps. “Don’t you guys hear that incessant noise in the background?”

The brothers pause. Donnie glances around as he hears some sort of wailing in the distance. Sirens.

“You mean police sirens, Nardo? That’s kind of a New York constant.”, Donnie snarks.

“Yeah, but it’s annoyingly clear. I think the police are on their way. We gotta get out of here, guys.”, the slider (softshell?) exasperates.

“Yeah, good call, let’s hurry.”, Raph nods.

And so the team makes their way back to the lair with the twins now stuck in each other’s bodies. Donnie doesn’t feel that much disoriented for the most part, which is honestly what’s bothering him about how similar the two are. But aside from that, it doesn’t seem like a big deal. Just chalk it up to the casual daily inconvenience that is the turtles’ lives.

This isn’t so bad.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

By the time the brothers return home, Donnie still hasn’t felt much difference. Meanwhile Leo keeps bickering and complaining about every little thing. The sewers are too cold, the sounds of cars and sirens overhead are too loud, and just about anything seems to tick him off. Donnie understands these notions well enough, and that has him thinking… Is Leo actually dealing with the physical attributes that Donnie has spent his whole life tolerating? What is the silver lining between the mental and physical depictions of the body? Isn’t mentality also intertwined with physicality? What parts of Leo are actually inside Donnie’s body right now? What parts of Donnie are inside of Leo’s? Perhaps this weekend will allow Donnie to learn something new after all. A fascinating experiment that many scientists have devoted their lives work for…

“Donnie, at the very least, for the sake of my sanity, could you please keep up my skin care routine on my behalf?”, Leo implores by the time they step inside their home.

“Eulgh, why should I? You have like a bazillion products meant for human skin, how does any of that even work? Aren’t most beauty products just scams anyways?”, Donnie detests.

“Well if I’m stuck inside of your body, I can’t do it myself. So please ?”

Donnie rolls his (Leo’s??? Honestly, who's to say?) eyes so far back in his skull it starts to hurt. He lets out a long agitated groan before reluctantly making his way to the bathroom.

“Alright, alright! Anything to stop your useless whining.”, he begrudgingly agrees.

Leo sighs in relief. “Thank you, Donnie. Seriously, I promise to take care of your body too. Starting with getting out of these itchy glitter coated clothes! Ugh! I can’t stand this!”

Donnie rolls his eyes again for good measure as he makes his way to the bathroom. Honestly, the glitter doesn’t even feel that itchy on him at the moment. He doesn’t understand what Leo is getting so worked up about.

But at the same time…he does .

Once inside the bathroom, Donnie finds that these next 48 hours are also going to be a bit…invasive. Honestly, Donnie can go days without a shower (or weeks if he’s really pushing it on a new lab experiment and is stubborn enough to shoo away his brothers). But he made a promise to Leo to respect his bodily autonomy to some extent. And Leo is to do the same in reassurance. And so he peels off all of Leo’s gear and carefully sets them aside. And that’s when he gets a good glance at himself in the mirror.

It is obviously jarring to look at himself inside of Leo’s body. The body shape, the markings, the shell. It all feels so unnatural to him.

But Donnie can’t help this overwhelming sense of wrongness etching into every core of his being.

The more he stares at his swapped reflection, the more wrong he feels. Every little feature he’s seeing is just wrong wrong wrong -

A high-pitched whine echoes from outside in the lair. In an instant, Donnie is snapped out of his trance and quickly throws on a bathrobe (a blue one as the purple one is too small to fit around his shell) and hurries outside. The whine echoes again and Donnie is quick to follow it, accompanied by Raph and Mikey. It’s coming from Leo’s room. Donnie makes it down the stairs first as peers into Leo’s subway car to find the slider-softshell crouched down on the floor.

“Donn- Leo? What’s wrong?”, Raph calls out.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”, Mikey offers a patient smile.

“SHUT UP! JUST- SHUT. UP.”, Leo snaps, clutching at Donnie’s goggles around his head.

Immediately, Donnie knows what is up. He quickly ushers the snapper and box turtle out of the room.

“Here, I got this. Let me handle it.”, the softshell-slider insists.

“Wha- Don! Come on, we can help.”, Raph protests.

Donnie shoves the two out of the room. “ Trust me, I got it!”

He shuts the sliding doors in their face, shrouding the room in darkness. He walks over to his figurative twin and crouches down on the floor.

“...Too much?”, he asks in a soft voice.

Leo winces. “There’s this squeaking noise coming from somewhere and I can’t find it! It’s driving me insane.”

Donnie nods, looking around the room. “Mhm, is that all?”

“Is that all ? Don, we swapped bodies! I’m covered in glitter! Your body smells like it has been rotting in the lab for days! And fuck ! What is happening?”

“It’s a sensory overload, Nardo. I’m certain I’ve explained this to you before.”

“Well yeah but I didn’t think it was this horrible! How can you even stand all of this? Just a couple hours and I’m ready to tear my skin out!”

“Okay first of all, please don’t. That is my skin you’re talking about.”, Donnie gripes. “Secondly, you’re in luck. I just so happen to have a few “fix-its” in place for situations like this. How about we start with getting you out of my clothes and into something more comfortable?”

Donnie stands up and looks around Leo’s room. Ugh, this place was left a mess for…who knows how long. It’s honestly a surprise there’s been no bugs in here. …Yet. Donnie heads for the doors, urging Leo to follow.

“Here, it’s probably best if you take my clothes for now. Your stuff may be too big.”, he explains.

Leo glances up at him for a moment (and man is it weird to see his own face look at him like that) before sighing and getting up to follow his brother. They step out of the subway car, going back up the stairs and down the hall to Donnie’s subway car room. Once inside, Donnie shuts the doors again and searches around his wardrobe closet for something Leo could wear. He grabs one of his patented sensory friendly hoodies and sweatpants. He tosses them in Leo’s direction.

“Here, these’ll make you stop feeling virtually anything on your skin. I also suggest taking off the battle shell and goggles too. If noise is still a problem, I got these ear defenders somewhere under my bed-” Donnie pauses as he turns to face Leo who is just staring at the wall. “...Leo?”

Leo doesn’t speak for a moment. And then, “.......It’s quieter in here.”

Donnie ponders those words for a moment. Because yeah, duh of course it is. Donnie made sure of that. “Yeah, I soundproofed my room. And the lab as well.”

“Is this why you soundproofed the garage and turtle tank back in our old home?”

“Of course. Whether it’s because I’m working in the garage or Raph’s got some kind of training going on in there, it helped keep the peace.”

“Hm.”

Leo turns to the clothes tossed in his direction, picking them up and rubbing the fabric in between his fingers.

“...Thanks.”, he hums.

“Yeah, of course.”, Donnie nods. “Do you…want to take a shower first or are you really okay with me going first?”

“You can go first. I think I still need some time to sorta…adjust to this whole situation.”, Leo gives his signature half-smile (which is uncanny to see on Donnie’s face) as he gestures towards the both of them.

Donnie nods again, giving a dry smile. “Sure thing. I’ll try not to take too long.”

And so with that, Donnie heads back out and returns to the bathroom. He takes off the robe, setting it back on its coat hook with the others. The softshell-slider strides on over to the shower and turns on the faucet, letting the water run to get warm. While he waits, his eyes are drawn to the mirror again. He can’t help it. It does look really weird to see himself in Leo’s body.

But there’s just something so unsettlingly wrong with it. Donnie can’t quite place his finger on it. He pokes the cheek, grazes a hand across the very bald head, frowns at the lack of magnificent brows. Then he twists around to see the shell. Still cracked from the damage from the Kraang but healing just fine. Nice and sturdy as it should be which gives Donnie some relief. Then he turns to the side, grazing his hands down his chest. And his brain short-circuits for a minute at the thought of not running his digits over any ridges.

Because this plastron is flat .

And that’s what was wrong.

Of course it is. The brothers discovered at an early age that Leo is a biologically female turtle. Splinter just sort of guessed they’re all boys and ran with it. Leo loved being called a boy so when the discovery was made, there weren't any drastic changes that needed to be set. But Donnie can see it now, with Leo’s body, staring into the mirror. How every factor of his being just felt so wrong .

His plastron is too flat, not bulky and rigid like his brothers’. His shoulders are too soft. His jawline is too gentle. His neck doesn’t have that larynx lump from dropping several pitches from puberty. The fat on his thighs and chest are too round and prominent. His gait is too narrow. And literally every single factor about him just screams wrong .

And of course Donnie would feel this way. He is a boy, growing up in a boy’s body. And now to be in one that’s so…feminine feels unnatural. It makes Donnie just want to hide away from the world but at the same time, he can’t stop staring at the mirror.

…And that’s why Leo took so long to get ready for their mission. Wasn’t it?

Oh crap, the shower. Donnie sees steam beginning to form and quickly hurries over to cool the water down a tad. The softshell-slider takes a sigh and steps in to wash up. He’s okay, he’s just going to have to deal with Leo’s body for the rest of the weekend. No big deal. Of course he feels something wrong, this body is not his. It’ll work itself out.

It has to.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After the shower and not wanting to think or feel anything else, Donnie dips by Leo’s room and tosses on one of his hoodies. Surprisingly, the hoodie is a lot more baggy and bigger than Donnie expected it to be. It could probably even fit Raph. But considering that whole crisis Donnie just had in the bathroom, perhaps it isn’t even considered that surprising.

Welp, enough fucking around. Science waits for no man…or turtle. Donnie strides on over to his lab, hearing the shower turn on again as Leo must’ve been waiting with anticipation to wash off all the glitter gunk. Donnie puts on one of his spare goggles and begins to tinker with another project of his to keep himself busy. A toaster that can shoot out toast at an angle so that it lands on a plate. (Unfortunately, there’s been many failures involving someone getting hit in the head with a toaster snipe).

After a couple hours, he hears footsteps padding into the room. He glances at the reflection of the toaster to see it is Leo who has shuffled inside the lab. (And he is ignoring how his heart skipped a beat when he saw his own body in the reflection at the confusion). Leo seems to be doing better, now clean of glitter and in the comfort clothes that Donnie lent him.

“Feeling better?”, Donnie hums.

“I…yeah.”, Leo nods. “Some food helped too. And speaking of, as much as I hate to admit it, you might actually be onto something about that mac n’ cheese with dino nuggets combo.”

Donnie looks up from his work, turning around. “You…ate my food?”

“It’s the only thing I felt I could stomach. I didn’t realize how good it was to have something simple.”

“Could you really blame me and my love of Kraft’s? (Even if they did change the recipe…)”

“I mean, we have a whole kitchen full of food.”

“And yet you choose my food.”, Donnie smirks and raises a brow.

Leo pauses, a glimmer of acknowledgment in his eyes as he connects the dots. “...And yet I choose… your food. Huh.”

Donnie’s smirk only widens as he turns back to his work. Leo grabs one of the chairs and scoots it over beside his twin, sitting in it backwards and resting his folded arms on the chair’s back. At least that is still something Leo about him.

“I’ll buy you more. I swear.”, Leo blurts out after a moment.

“Don’t worry about it. I always keep some spare snacks in here and in my room.”

“So I’ve noticed. I've been wondering about that.”, Leo nodded his head at the closed plastic box tub in the corner where Donnie stashes the occasional backup food. “Though, I think Casey Jr has beat you to the punch. You should see his room at April’s, the kid keeps stuff stored under his bed out of habit. Though it’s not really potato chips but more…soup cans and jerky.”

“Honestly, I’m not surprised.”, Donnie rolls his eyes.

The two share a chuckle. It’s nice, Donnie notes, to have these moments together with his twin. Yes, they bicker. They are opposites in a way. But that is what makes them an excellent pair, a compelling match. Leo scoots his chair closer, wincing at the groan it makes. He peers over to look at Donnie’s work.

“You better not work my brain to death, my forehead isn’t as big as yours to hold all that nerd stuff.”, Leo snarks. Donnie pays him no mind. “What are you working on anyway? Better be a shortcut to get us out of this mess.”

Donnie actually barks a laugh at that. “HA! Trust me, if I knew of a way out of this, I would’ve done it already. Anything to get out of this unbearable body of yours.” Well the moment was nice while it lasted. Let the bickering commence again.

“ My body is unbearable?”, Leo snaps. “Oh please, yours is nothing but a walking torture machine!”

“Oh stop being so sensitive !”, Donnie rolls his eyes.

“Now that’s saying something, coming from you-”

“I’ve been dealing with sensory issues my entire life. I learn to deal with it . Meanwhile, you only need to worry about the size of your plastron and whatnot.”

“What are you talking about? Why do you say that like my problems mean nothing compared to yours-”

“BECAUSE AT LEAST YOUR BODY CAN BE FIXED!”, Donnie shouts, slamming his fist against the workbench. “MEANWHILE I AM STUCK LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!”

Leo pauses, stunned. Donnie can see it in the reflection of the metal just as much as Leo can. A shared hatred at the same body. How remorseful. Leo leans back in the chair, holding himself up with his grip on the back of it. He shakes his head, looking away.

“That’s not true.”, he says lowly. And Donnie’s expression softens. “You only hate it because that’s my body you’re thinking about, not yours. Even when we’ve swapped minds, you still don’t understand. Because you can’t see into my mind.”

“I mean, we could mind meld-”

“But you can’t see it.”, Leo presses, anger dripping from his words. “I mean…what does it mean to be a man? As much as I like to stare in the mirror and point out every imperfection, would it even matter to get them all resolved? There are some elements of being a man that I don’t like. And there are some elements of being a woman that I want to keep.” Leo presses his lips for a moment, shifting around awkwardly. “For example…I’d like to keep my- ahem - pants.”

“I beg your fucking pardon?”, Donnie stirs, spinning the chair around to face his brother.

“I mean, come on! How do you even walk around with this…thing?!”, Leo gripes.

“Oh for the love of pizza supreme, can we please not talk about that?”, the softshell-slider groans, rolling his eyes far back into his head. “And for what it’s worth, you’ve been wholly you this entire time and none of us have thought of you any less of a man.”

Leo scoffs. “Yeah, tell that to the yokai customers I gotta deal with at Hueso’s. I swear if I get called a waitress instead of a waiter one more time, I’m going to lose my head.”

“Well you already did, seeing that your mind is in my body right now.”, Donnie mutters.

“Ah, I see.”, Leo hums, unamused. “Speaking of, how’s your mind doing inside of my body?”

“Aside from the obvious? I guess I haven’t really thought about how numb my senses are now.”, Donnie shrugs. “No loud noises or icky sensations. Just pure focus on my work.”

Leo groans. “Bleugh, you’re gonna work my body to death by the end of the weekend, aren’t you?”

“You’ll live.”, Donnie sighs. “Honestly, the idea of being in your body further confirms I am content with my identity. I don’t want any of this and it sucks that I’m stuck like this. Honestly, if this was permanent I might-”

“Kill yourself?”, Leo raises a brow. Donnie stammers for a moment, the thought of it barely had time to pass by his mind before Leo beated him to the punch. Yet the slider-softshell just laughs. “Don’t worry about it, it comes with the package.”

A cold chill ran through Donnie. He turns to his twin with wide and concerned eyes. “...That’s horrible.”

Leo simply shrugs, unfazed. “Yeah but it’s like you said. You learn to tolerate it.”

Donnie quickly shakes his head. “No, no . You shouldn’t have to tolerate your body-”

“And you shouldn’t have to tolerate yours either.”, Leo insists. “This… sucks . Your body sucks and so does mine. It sucks .” The slider-softshell sighs as he leans back more in the chair. “And I’m honestly tired of having to deal with it.”

Donnie pauses for a long moment, biting his/Leo’s inner lip while drumming his fingers against the table. He hates how this feels, knowing full well that this dysphoria is what Leo has been experiencing all his life. And it hurts him to know that there is something that can be done about it. There has to be, at least. Mutant turtle genes be damned.

“I’ll look into gender affirming care for you. Maybe there’s some place in the Hidden City for it.”, Donnie speaks up against the quiet. “Maybe they have mystic illogical magic potions or some bullshit, I don’t know.”

Leo’s eyes light up a bit. “You’d…really do that?”

Donnie scoffs a laugh and nods. “Well… yeah . You’re right, this does suck. And it sucks even more that you have to deal with this for so long. So yes, I’ll be looking into it. And it doesn’t have to be the full package transition if that’s what you’re worried about. Doesn’t have to be right away either. Regardless I can assure you, Nardo, you are very manly.”

Leo chuckles. “Oh please, there’s nothing manly about me.”

“You’re so manly it’s annoying.”, Donnie smirks.

“Shut up!”, his twin laughs some more.

“You’re so manly your room reeks of axe body spray. Seriously, it’s like a bomb went off in there.”

“I don’t even use it that much.”

“You’re so manly that you like other men.”

Leo cackles, wheezing in between for air. Donnie can’t help but join him in his laughter. Together, their laughs echoed out of the lab and throughout the lair and the underground tunnels. Leo wipes a tear that pearled in his eye.

“Okay, fine. You win.”, he chuckles. “...You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Too bad, I’m going to. Suck it up.”, Donnie spat lightheartedly.

Leo groans, rolling his eyes back as he slouches back in the backwards chair. “Okay well if you’re going to do that, then…then I’m going to the store and get you whatever foods you want. Seriously, it’s only a matter of time until the bugs find your stash.”

“Well I have thought about giving a list but whenever I do, something always changes and there’s just food sitting in the kitchen that I just don’t want anymore.”, Donnie ponders, crossing his arms.

“Pssh, no big deal. I’ll eat whatever you don’t want then.”, Leo wavers a hand. “And speaking of…I promise to be more mindful about your sensory issues. Existing like this is torture enough. I don’t want you to have to deal with this on your own.”

“Again, I’m used to it.”

“ Are you? Or is it that masking thing you always do?”, Leo presses.

Donnie huffs a sigh. “Okay, yeah, maybe a little.”

Leo smiles, leaning forward and holding out his hand for a handshake. “Then it’s a deal. You’ll help me. I’ll help you. That’s what twins are for, right?”

Donnie smiles back, warmly. He nods, taking Leo’s hand. “Right.”

The handshake only lasts a second until Leo slinks his (Donnie’s) hand away and grimaces. “Eugh, your hand is sweaty.”

“That’s my line.”, Donnie hums.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The weekend goes as follows; Leo discovering the amazing world of torture that is sensory issues and Donnie discovering the amazing world of torture that is gender dysphoria. But they also learn new things about each other constantly. Donnie would always make fun of Leo for his slouching but now…he gets it. Leo would always be confused as to how Donnie could stand having a weighted battle shell on him but now…he gets it.

If anything, this spell has brought the two closer together. Whenever there’s a problem with one of them, they would go to the other for support. Simply because they finally understand each other better now. If the twins weren’t inseparable before, they definitely are now.

The timer of the spell then reaches its limit Sunday evening, all the brothers watching the clock with anticipation. It’s like they are all waiting for the New Year countdown.

10!

9!

8!

7!

6!

5!

4!

3!

2!

1!

Poof!

A glitter cloud of mauve and cyan surround the two of them in an instant. Donnie coughs and wheezes at the cloud, batting away the smoke and blinking his eyes repeatedly. As the smoke clears, Donnie looks down at his hands. And they are indeed his hands.

Leo laughs in relief, wrapping his arms around himself and spinning around. “Oh thank pizza supreme! Leon is back!”

Donnie smiles, grazing his hands against his plastron ridges and down to his hips. “Finally, it’s good to be back.” Yet he winces at a soreness on his softshell. “Augh, gees, Leo. How long have you kept this battle shell on for?”

Leo grumbles too, crossing his arms. “Yeah well my body is starving because someone forgot to take lab breaks.”

Raph chuckles at the two. “Good to have you boys back in your own selves.”

“Yeah!”, Mikey beams. “And I don’t mean to say I told you so, but I totally told you so! You two have gotten a lot closer this weekend.”

The box turtle bounds over to the slider wrapping him in a hug. Leo starts rolling his eyes and bickering with the youngest on how much he doesn’t want to admit Mikey is right. Meanwhile Raph is wrangling the both of them in their friendly squabble. But then, as Donnie adjusts to his senses…

Everything hits him like a truck at once.

The lights are too bright again, the sounds of his brothers roughhousing are too loud, his softshell is incredibly sore from 48 hours of wearing a battle shell. Oh yeah, he did not miss this. As his other brothers round up in a hug, Raph pulls Donnie in with them. And as endearing as it is…it’s just too much. Donnie forces through with a masked smile but can’t help the way his body stiffens. But immediately, Leo takes notice. For he understands that feeling all too well now.

Leo pushes out of the hug. “Okay, break it up, you guys. I am dying to have some food and just sit on the couch for the rest of the night.”

“Oh come on! We should celebrate!”, Mikey insists.

“Oh I am celebrating. I’m celebrating with some dino nuggets and mac n’ cheese.”, Leo smirks, glancing over at Donnie. “Don, you in?”

Donnie clenches and unclenches his fists for a moment before nodding. Leo nods back.

“Cool, I’ll meet you in the TV room. Go pick out something to watch.”

Donnie nods again before quickly stepping out as soon as possible to get away from the loudness and chaos unfolding. The TV room is much quieter and it only takes a moment for Donnie to notice his weighted blanket on the couch from where Leo was using it last. The softshell takes off his battle shell and settles inside of Leo’s blanket nest, wrapping himself up in its security. He picks up the TV remote and skims through the options available. Eventually, he settles on a ghibli movie. Letting it play as he sinks into the couch.

Leo comes into the TV room a few minutes later with two plates of the infamous dino nuggets and mac n’ cheese combo. He hands a plate to Donnie before sitting beside him but making sure he’s not sitting too close.

“I didn’t think you’d still like these after we swapped back.”, Donnie mumbles.

Leo shrugs. “I’ve grown to like it. You’ve got good taste.”

Donnie huffs a laugh. Together, the two just watch the movie and eat their comfort meal. By the time Donnie sets his plate down on the coffee table, he sees how Leo slouches forward on the couch, subconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. Donnie frowns, for he understands that feeling all too well now as well.

The softshell opens the weighted blanket like he is opening a door, inviting Leo to enter with him. The slider only had the chance to glance at him for a moment before Donnie drags him by the arm to scoot his twin closer. Donnie wraps the blanket around the both of them, enveloping Leo in that same sense of security. Leo can’t help but smile at the gesture, snuggling closer. The two don’t even need mind meld anymore to understand each other.

That’s what twins are for.

----------------------------------------------------

Speedran to finish this 20 minutes before my therapy appointment-- (now it's 8 minutes)

[vague-song-quotes]

let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken

[strawberries-and-racing]

go back to sleep - cl16 smut

pairing: charles lecler x fem!reader

summary: charles comes home late after a long week of hardly seeing eachother and fucks you while your asleep

warnings: a little bit if angst at the beginning, established relationship, somnophilia, unprotected sex, fingering and a little bit of a control kink.

the cool night air that wafted off the mediterranean sea and settled over monaco brought charles no comfort. the darkness of the night pressed around him as he rounded the last few corners before pulling into the driveway.

he'd hardly seen you in the last week. you were swamped with work and always exhausted.

meanwhile, ferrari was falling apart, each race seemingly more disastrous than the last.

before, the two of you had always been able to make it work and saw eachother constantly. cooking together at night by the warm glow of the kitchen lights, reading together or going out on small, intimate dates.

but the last several days had been different. the week had been particularly stressful and busy for both of you but it felt different for charles. your schedules weren't aligning and he often ended up coming home extremely late, and you left early in the morning.

he knew that you were just busy and soon it would all blow over but still, he felt alone. he felt a little paranoid, everything seemed off.

he worried things would grow dull between the two of you. he worried you'd get irritated with his late nights. he couldnt bear to lose you.

tonight especially, his body ached for you.

he parked the car and got out, making his way up to the apartment. he opened the door quietly as to not wake you up.   

hastily, he put down his bags and made quick motions to prepare for bed. the apartment was dead quiet, only illuminated by the city lights that came through the windows. the clock reads 12:39.

as he opens the door to the bedroom, any traces of tiredness in him melt away as his eyes land on you.

you're asleep, your entire body limp. the ponytail you normally wear to sleep has fallen out and your hair fans out across the pillow. your lips are slightly parted and your body heaves slightly with each breath you take.

your legs are spread and your his tshirt is bunched up enough to reveal your white cotton panties, the ones he knows you like to wear to sleep.

you look so peaceful, angelic, fragile. so neatly prepared for charles to wreck. the idea of doing so excites him so much that he finds himself crawling slowly onto the bed.

his fingers begin softly stroking your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. you dont move, dont make a sound. still asleep, still perfectly spread for charles.

he carefully pulls your panties to the side, running his fingers up and down your folds. even in your sleep, its unbelievable how wet you are from his touch.

his fingers move from softly circling your clit. your body doesnt move.

he slowly pulls your panties down your thighs and slips them off your ankles.

as his thumb continues pleasuring your clit, his fingers glide down and push inside you. your walls tense around his fingers and you groan, you shift positions a little.

but you dont wake up.

he pumps his two fingers in and out of you, increasing his pace ever so slowly as to not disturb you.

your sleeping body clenches around his fingers, walls fluttering with pleasure. charles finds it impossible how you remain asleep with how deeply he thrusts his fingers into you, brushing against your g-spot.

he pulls out his fingers before you can reach your orgasm.

a soft breeze swirls through the open window. you visibly shiver, goosebumps creeping over your thighs.

you remain unconscious still, even as he pushes his unbearably hard cock inside of you. the feeling of having you completely and absolutely under his control sends waves of arousal over his body. your motionless frame was all his to use however he wanted.

a small groan escapes charles' lips at the contrast of your hot core to the cool air of the bedroom. he gently begins thrusting in and out of you, placing his hands on either sides of your waist and gripping the sheets.

you exhale softly from parted lips. the muscles in your abdomen tensing, your walls clenching around him.

he increases his pace little by little. your delicate body flinches. he has to use every ounce of his willpower to keep his pace slow.

your expression beneath him is impossibly soft and innocent. he swears hes never seen anything more beautiful.

a small moan leaves your lips. the noise is hardly audible but the little vibrations that ripple over your body is enough to make charles's cock twitch inside you.

your eyelids flutter, you shift a little. your eyes open slowly.

your whole body feels hot, pulses of pleasure rushing through you. as you slowly regain consciousness your met with charles's intense green eyes. you cant quite read his expression.

it takes you a minute to piece together the situation, your mind still foggy with sleep. the heat and movement between your legs. charles on top of you. the familiar dark glint in his eyes.

charles thrusts into you carefully but deeply. you bite your lip, moaning. your finger nails clutching his arms.

charles brushes his hand over your cheek, touching you softly.

"go back to sleep, ma belle."  his voice is rich and soaked in lust. he places a soft kiss to your cheek, then to your neck.

your body feels so tired from the exhausting week and you're barely holding onto consciousness. so you give into charles without protest, just and you'd done so many times in the past.

you close your eyes. letting the gentle, familiar movements of charles's hips rock you back to sleep.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SEVEN

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, blood, brief mentions of death, ghost is mean, as always, be cautious! masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Soap was an obnoxious snorer. His heavy rumbles echoed throughout the quarters, traveling right over to you and keeping you awake. It didn’t help that you were forced into his bed, either.

Your eyes remained on the ceiling, slowly blinking every few seconds with the ache to sleep but unable to. You felt groggy yet restless, wanting to succumb into a comfortable slumber, but the snores began to make you itch more and more.

You didn’t know what time it was, but you knew it was too early to be getting out of bed. However, you needed an escape. A breath of fresh air.

Sitting up and swinging your legs over the bed, you stood with all the intention to escape the room for a few moments to get a piece of quiet. You gently slipped each foot into the shoes Soap had gotten you, careful not to rouse the two of them from their sleep.

You could only pray Soap didn’t feel the movement in his sleep.

Slowly, you crept towards the door, wincing at every faint creak beneath your footsteps. The two men were still sound asleep, though it was too dark to tell whether that notion was completely true or not.

With Soap still in a peaceful rumble, you successfully made it to the door, breathing out a sigh of relief at the idea of getting a moment of peace.

Price’s quarters were much quieter. Sure, he snored as well, but it wasn’t as aggressive as Soap’s. The Captain had a bad habit of smoking cigars, something you gathered when you’d seen him once or twice with a trail of swirling gray that seemed to linger a second too long.

“What are you doin’?”

The sound of Gaz’s familiar voice nearly had you jumping out of your skin. You muffled your yelp with a hand, whirling around to try and pinpoint him in the darkness.

You could faintly see his silhouette, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees. He looked menacingly in the dim light like this, a noticeable glint in his eyes that shined back at you from the lick of moonlight that poured through.

“Escapin’ again?” he gruffed, unimpressed.

Soap stirred in his sleep before shifting positions, returning back to his previous snoring.

“No, not at all,” you defended. Even in the dark, you could see Gaz didn’t look convinced.

“Yeah? Then what are you doin’ up, creepin’ around like you’re up to somethin’?” Gaz asked. He stood from the bed, arms crossing over his chest.

“I wish to get some air,” you explained as confidently as you could without waking Soap by being too rowdy. “Soap is not easy to fall asleep next to.”

Gaz was silent for a moment before he let out a quiet snort. “Aye. Well, I’m not leavin’ you unchaperoned. Captain’s orders. Can’t risk a little minx slippin’ away again.”

You went to object. You didn’t wish to have company, you wanted to be alone. Being around men was positively suffocating, and living with them against your own will wasn’t what you pictured for your future.

You wanted to live as a woman again. You wanted to live freely again. You wanted to tour the upper decks alone.

Gaz made his way across the room and over to you, his footsteps surprisingly much softer than yours, even as a larger man.

You began to think maybe he had done the same as you before. Rooming with Soap couldn’t have been super thrilling with him purring like a cat majority of the night.

He stood in front of you, cocking his head in question when he noticed your gaping mouth and a slur of words unspoken on your end. 

“C’mon. I’ll join you,” he insisted, opening the door for you and leaving no room for argument.

Moonlight flooded in, causing you to squint. You looked outside of the door, then at him, unsure.

Joining you was nicely saying that he was indeed chaperoning you. You knew the difference.

“I am not going to run away,” you repeated.

“I’m aware,” he huffed, guiding you out with a hand on your shoulder. “But I, too, can’t stand that bugger’s snorin’.”

So really, he trusted you not to run. He just trusted his Captain much more. 

Gaz becoming humorous with you was definitely new. He was usually much more serious, down to Earth, well-spoken. Apart from the casual slip of accusation towards Ghost being jealous at breakfast the day before, he had been rather silent.

You had no choice but to allow him the time to take you out on the upper deck, the two of you falling into a calm atmosphere.

The sound of the waves instantly eased the tension built within you, shoulders falling slack and your mind quieting down. Soap’s snores became a distant memory, and you had a moment to think.

Think about what, you weren’t sure. There were a plethora of things that sprouted, not all good. They had unsettled you since your very first steps on to the ship, but only did they come in the silence of the night.

You wondered how differently things would transpire for you if you were still home, safe and sound. You didn’t think much would’ve changed, not for the better anyway. You still would’ve been the crazy girl who had a wild mind and an absent desire to pursue a life like the other women.

Then Mary flashed, only for a moment. You knew the truth. If the rest of the village was dead, she was just as unlucky. As much as you wanted to hate the pirates for shifting her course of fate, you knew it would’ve been an outcome sooner rather than later.

She was old and frail with only her mind kicked into overdrive. She had the personality of just a girl, but her visits for checkups became more and more frequent as the years went by. You knew she was destined to pass somewhere down the road.

You just wish it was a comfortable death rather than one filled with chaos and terror.

Would, if the time ever came, the pirates offer you a death they couldn’t give to Mary? To your people? Or would they grant you the agony of death in cruel ways the moment they sensed a shift in your trust?

“Your mind seems disturbed,” Gaz said, not unkindly. “I’ve been told I’m a rather good listener.”

“I do not think you’d like to hear about it,” you responded, attempting to steer the topic.

“You’re one of us now, whether the both of us like it or not,” he explained. “I believe that it’ll be a much smoother sail if you have an outlet to release your troubles.”

The two of you halted at the ledge of the ship, peering down at the water. The waves lapped lazily tonight, allowing peace for you to let out your burdens.

“I think it’s rather selfish what you men have done to me,” you began. You took a brief glance at Gaz, who had his elbows leaned on the railings, eyes watching the sea. Where you expected a rebuttal, you were offered silence. “I was thinking of home.”

“I see,” Gaz hummed. “And was it a place you were happy?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in thought. You joined him in resting your elbows next to his, lying your chin on top of them. “Of course. I was very happy.”

“That doesn’t seem very convincin’ from you, little dove,” he noted. He still refused to look at you, though his attention was entirely on hearing you out.

It was a change you didn’t expect to see. It caused you to feel… confusion? Apprehension? You weren’t quite sure how you should feel.

“I was happy,” you tried to defend. Now was the time he looked at you, though it was really more of an unconvinced side eye. “On my own. I was happy when I was alone.”

“Was that such a hard confession?” he jabbed. “Go on. I know there’s more.”

You huffed through your nose, frowning at the water. “I am angry at you for killing Mary,” you confessed. “She was innocent. She was my friend.”

“Every soul is innocent under the eyes of the Gods,” he mused. “We simply do not care to be under watch. We have our reasonin’ for what we do. We will never say we’re proud of it.”

“You ask for me to— to unleash my disturbed mind, yet you are only defending yourself!” you accused with a heavy frown, setting a glare on him.

“I said I am a good listener,” he corrected with the hint of a smile. “Not a good friend.”

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled beneath your breath, returning to looking at the sea.

Where before you were surprised yet relieved that the two of you seemed to be getting on much better than before, it seemed he was taking it farther — by being insufferable. It was nearly as bad as Soap when he would take the piss out on you.

“I am merely jokin’,” Gaz assured with warmth in his tone. “I used to be very good with people, mind you. Now, I fear I’m a bit rusty.”

You glanced at him, resting your cheek on your elbows. The moment of tension had faded as quickly as it appeared, leaving the two of you in that comfortable space once again.

“What made you so good with people before?” you inquired, curious.

“I was not always a pirate,” he confessed. “I did not grow up in poverty, sailin’ the seas. I was someone of higher status before I abandoned the title and sought adventure.”

You stared at him, bewildered. The thought of Gaz being someone of importance before who he was now was mind-boggling. He didn’t appear to be posh and proper, rather a bit hot-headed with a loose tongue.

“What kind of status would that be?” you asked.

Gaz finally looked at you fully, turning his head to face you. His smile was more radiant than ever, completely genuine and kind. It was the most emotion you’d seen out of him. He seemed real.

That smile wasn’t one of a cruel pirate’s. It was a boy with a bandaged heart that was still hidden inside and needed to be coaxed out with a bit of patience.

“A prince.”

Gaz didn’t continue the conversation after. He took you back to the shared room without a lick of an explanation, opting to keep the mystery hanging in the air. Even after you questioned him further, he only gave you a slick smile before urging you back to bed.

Now, it was morning, and you had spent the rest of the night becoming friends with the ceiling once again. Soap continued to snore the night away, yet he wasn’t what kept you up.

It was Gaz. You were achingly curious.

It gave you a glimpse of who these men might have been before you, before becoming pirates. The thought of them being rugged and cruel was still heavy in your mind, but there was also a peek of light trying to pour out and shed a bit of sunshine on what you thought was only darkness.

“Ye up, dove?” Soap’s voice flooded the room and when you peeked up from where you buried yourself in your blanket, you saw Soap standing in the doorway, ready to go for the day.

You felt him leave the bed earlier that morning, but pretended to be asleep, hoping you’d finally get some rest alone. Spoiler, you did not.

Gaz stood behind Soap, and unlike before, there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. It was a faint glint, barely noticeable, but you saw it.

The damned pirate knew he was stringing along on a brutal journey of torture for not answering your inquiries and leaving you restless.

“Price wants ye in the kitchen with Ghost today,” Soap explained. “Since ye can’t do any medic duties, he wants ye to help in cookin’.”

“I do not know how to cook,” you tried to reason. “I only ever ate bread and rice. I will be of no help.”

The last thing you wanted was to be in Ghost’s area. You felt as if you took a step too close, he’d bare fanged teeth out from that mask of his and sink them into you like a rabid animal.

“Ghost’s a good teacher. C’mon, dove, Cap doesn’t like bein’ left waitin’, especially in the mornin’.” Soap encouraged you out of bed, and you quickly slipped on your shoes, stumbling on the way out.

Ghost was already present in the kitchen by the time you arrived. He was laser focused, chopping at vegetables on a wooden block with a large knife.

You had never taken note of it before, given his skull ring was the main piece plastered on his finger, but this time, you observed closer.

Black ink swirled along the back of his hand, dipping underneath the cuff of his shirt. You couldn’t make out what the picture could be, but judging from the rest of his themed attire, you had a good idea.

“The hell she doin’ here?” Ghost immediately gruffed to Soap, who was busy guiding you further into the kitchen.

“Play nice,” Soap pleaded. He walked you over to Ghost, pressing you forward when your body began to protest. “Cap wants her to learn how to cook. Be a lad and help the poor bird out, will ye?”

Ghost stared at you with eyes as dark as the onyx on his finger before grunting in annoyance, focusing back on chopping away.

Soap left before you could get a word out, leaving you alone with the Devil himself. Ghost spared you no glance, not for a long while until his vegetables were chopped and placed in a bowl.

“What do y’know how to cook?” Ghost asked, leaning his palms on the counter. “Y’know how to boil water?”

You frowned at him, offended. “Of course I know how to boil water.”

“Good. You aren’t as clueless as you act.” Ghost grabbed a pot hanging from one of the many cabinets of the kitchen before handing it over to you. “There’s some water in that barrel. Go on.”

You turned your head to where he pointed, noting the heavy barrel seated with others in the corner. You gave him a firm nod before making your way. Once you got to the barrel, you attempted to lean it over to pour some water into the pot.

It was heavy. Overwhelmingly heavy. You weren’t weak, but you were certainly in no shape to lift the barrel like Price had done when he ran you a bath.

It was a struggle. You tried not to make it obvious, not wanting to hear more jests from Ghost. Nothing you did would work. Rather than getting water into the pot, it spilled out around your feet, soaking the soles of your shoes.

Before you could express your frustration, scarred hands came around you, lifting the barrel with a deep grunt. The water poured into the pot, and when you looked behind you, Ghost stood over you.

His mask hid his expression, but judging from the way he looked at you briefly, you could pinpoint the annoyance.

“Christ,” he muttered.

When he finished helping you, he trudged back to his station, stomping along the way. You, knowing better than to quip in return, began boiling the pot over the burning embers of a small fire that centered in the middle of the kitchen.

It was nothing like a normal fire, and it was small, but it was amazing that the crew could even manage to start a fire for cooking on a rocking boat at sea.

You stood patiently and quietly as you watched the water jostle from the slight waves, slowly forming bubbles that floated to the top and popped.

Ghost remained silent as well, not sparing a single glance in your direction. This was something you were growing used to, though you wished you knew why he resented you so harshly.

He was the coldest out of the crew. Everyone had been at first, but he seemed to be the one with the most roughness around the edges. Even in his appearance, he was tougher, and the skulls certainly didn’t aid him in coming off as kind.

“Stop starin’ at me,” he said roughly.

You quickly averted your attention away from him, opting to watch the bubbles. “I apologize.”

“Don’t need no apology. Just need you to stop starin’.” He continued to mutter under his breath grumpily, and you regretted even looking his way in the first place.

“You do not have to be so rude,” you reckoned, frowning. “You are the only one with reservations left for me.”

“Because I do not like you,” he snapped, whirling around to face you.

He was menacing, the way he held the knife and stared at you like you had just kicked his puppy. It was terrifying before, but now, it didn’t feel as threatening.

“You have no reason to dislike me,” you defended. “If anything, I have every reason to dislike you.”

“Yeah? If you hate it here so much, I’ll place a plank out just for you so you can walk it.” Ghost’s hand gripped the knife tighter, his knuckles going white.

“I have done nothing to you,” you clipped back.

“You have done everythin’ to me,” he rebutted. “You are only here because of Soap, and that is only because he is more kind-hearted than the rest of us. If we had it our way, we would not have you here.”

You could feel your blood begin to boil like the water in the pot. It was sizzling, steaming, and heated.

You didn’t have a clue why Ghost hated you, and he wasn’t giving you a clear answer. The only thing you knew was that he did, and he stood on it.

“You are the ones who took me prisoner,” you jabbed. “You’re the disgusting pirates who burned down my home and took me as a medic. Who is at fault but yourselves?”

Ghost let out an angry noise from the back of his throat, slamming down the knife — except, in doing so, the blade clipped his finger, pebbling up drops of blood that began to drip down his finger and on to the wooden block beneath it.

Immediately, your fury turned to worry, and you hurried over to check the cut. Instead of allowing you to help, he stepped away from you, holding his other hand up to his bleeding finger, cutting off the blood with a fisted grip.

“I do not need your help, medic,” he spat, turning away and storming out of the kitchen.

You watched wearily as he left, the door slamming behind him. You didn’t like getting into fights, let alone with Ghost. He was harsh with his words and did not hold back on your feelings.

Now, you felt you were the reason he hurt himself to begin with. You were taken in as a medic, and you couldn’t even fix up the one man who had hurt himself thus far.

You let out a heavy sigh, slumping your arms on to the counter to bury your face in them. Before you could, a glimpse of something unfamiliar caught your eye.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed something off about Ghost’s blood that had dropped the wooden block. When it had first dripped, it was a deep crimson.

Now, as you looked, it had changed. It was no longer red and was unmistakably black in color.

[niki-phoria]

IF YOU JUST TURN YOUR HEAD OVER, YOU'LL BE THERE / I'LL ALWAYS BE THERE

pulling txt into kisses !!

inspo from this post by @bluejaem and this post by @okwonyo !!

gn reader (no pronouns used)

YEONJUN

yeonjun is panicking. he silently curses himself for failing to set his alarm - the words falling from his lips in quiet whispers as he rushes throughout your apartment. 

“i’m sorry, i’m running late,” he mumbles, clumsily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. “soobin’s gonna kill me.” 

you bite back a chuckle, watching as yeonjun frantically runs a hand through his still-disheveled hair. he continuously runs back and forth, shoving things into a backpack before slinging it over his shoulder.

yeonjun sighs, pausing once he reaches the front door. he turns to momentarily glance back at you with an apologetic smile. “don’t forget to eat breakfast, okay? i’ll call you at lunch. i promise.” 

“jun!” the man just barely has enough time to spin around to face you. your fingers curl into the thick fabric of his hoodie before you gently pull him in and quickly press your lips against his. 

you pull away just as fast as you leaned in; a soft smile lingers on your lips. wide, unblinking eyes meet your own as you reach up to brush a strand of disheveled hair back into place. “you almost forgot our goodbye kiss,” you chuckle, innocently shrugging at his visible confusion. “i’ll see you tonight. i love you.”

SOOBIN

“i’m dying.”

“you’re not dying,” soobin sighs, wandering over to kneel down in front of your couch so he’s eye level with you. he softly smiles when you pout, squinting at him through blurry vision. 

your eyes flutter closed when he reaches up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. soobin’s hands linger on your forehead for just a few seconds before he settles for resting them against your cheek. “my throat hurts,” you whine. 

“i know, baby,” he murmurs. “why don’t i go make you some samgyetang? maybe it’ll help clear your sinuses a little.”

you hum in agreement, sleepily blinking up at him. soobin smiles. he leans in, gingerly pressing his lips against your forehead. “try to get some rest love, okay? i’ll wake you up when the food is ready.”

soobin pauses when you softly grab onto his arm just before he stands up, quickly leaning in to press a soft peck against his cheek. you bite back a chuckle when he freezes, staring at you with wide eyes and overly flushed cheeks. 

“thank you, binnie,” you smile. “i love you.”

soobin chuckles, softly shaking his head. “i love you too, y/n,” he murmurs, leaving you with yet another peck against your knuckles before he slips away into your kitchen.

BEOMGYU

you’re going to die of boredom. you’re sure of it. 

a defeated sigh escapes you as you roll onto your side, now facing beomgyu. neatly brushed shaggy bangs frame his face. his eyes remain laser focused on the game illuminating the screen. his fingers move expertly across the keys as he easily takes down enemy after enemy. the otherwise quiet room is only occasionally broken by the noise of soft curses whispered beneath his breath or the repetitive sound of mechanical keys clicking over and over again. 

you sit up, quietly staking across the room until you’re standing behind him. beomgyu groans after yet another defeat - a bright “game over” page illuminating the page. like a predator, you strike, quickly leaning down to tilt his face towards you before pressing a kiss against his lips. 

beomgyu freezes, staring up at you in shock. a few seconds pass before he chuckles, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. your breath nearly hitches in your throat when he leans in, narrowing the already small space between you even more. 

“if you wanted a kiss so badly all you had to do was ask,” beomgyu smirks. this time you’re the flustered one when he leans in, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss.

TAEHYUN

as soon as you open the metal door, a seemingly endless sea of machines and mirrors greet you. the hybe gym is nothing like you’ve ever seen before - the large space filled with more equipment than you know how to use. 

“hi love,” taehyun smiles at you through one of the floor length mirrors - pausing his rep for just long enough to greet you. wandering over to the corner he’s in, finding a seat on one of the nearby workout benches. his movements are always controlled and precise as he diligently works his way through his set. 

you wait until taehyun takes a break, relaxing against his workout mat as he catches his breath. you lean in, reaching over to cup his cheek before pulling him into a quick peck.

taehyun is quick to reciprocate, feverishly returning the kiss. your hand tangles into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him in place as you press your lips against his. taehyun smiles into the kiss; his hands finding a home resting comfortably on your hips. 

a sly smirk tugs at the corners of his lips when you pull away. “couldn’t resist, huh?,” he teases.

you chuckle, moving to lay on the ground beside him. “you? never.”

HUENING KAI

it’s far too early in the morning when kai begins to stir. sunlight streams in through your opened curtains in golden waves.

he yawns, shifting slightly to stretch out his sore limbs before he rolls onto his side. you’re still curled up underneath the covers beside him the same way you were when you both fell asleep. kai’s lips quirk into an unconscious smile as he admires your peaceful features. he watches as your chest rises and falls in an even rhythm; soft snores occasionally escape your lips. 

he moves as cautiously as he can when he begins to sit up, slowly shifting away from you with as little movement as possible. he all but jumps out of his skin when you reach up; your fingers curl into the fabric of kai’s t-shirt, tightly gripping the fabric in your hands. he barely has enough time to react when you gently tug him downwards before crashing your lips against his. 

kai feels like he’s on fire. he can feel his cheeks fiercely burning with a blush that’s only increased when you nonchalantly push his stiff body back onto the mattress before crawling over to lay on his chest. 

“five more minutes,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed once again. kai lets a laugh of disbelief escape him as he complies, almost too eager to fall back asleep with you safely tucked in his arms. 

notes: my apologies for how late fics have been, i'm going through some personal stuff and my finals are coming up soon <//3

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my txt materlist <33

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Sanji finds you crying and pretends to believe your excuses. Is anyone up for slow dancing in the rain?]

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When the time for supper came, Sanji knocked on your door to let you now. He was met with silence, so he naturally assumed you were sleeping. Not much of a problem - he'll set aside a portion for when you wake up hungry.

The problem is, that was around two hours ago.

Sanji knocked on your door again and when silence answered him this time also, he allowed himself to peek inside. Only to discover your bed is empty. He grew suspicious, if not worried, when no one could tell him where you went. It's the middle of the night and the rainstorm doesn't stop. Sanji also noticed how quiet and upset you've been most of the day, making him all the more tense that you are unaccounted for. The thought that you're obediently suffering in silence breaks him more each time he entertains it.

Sanji is scrubbing the cutting board with feverish vigour. The faster he finishes, the faster he can get to making sure you're fine. As though the fish scales knew his thoughts, they simply wouldn't get off the wooden surface.

The steel scrubber escapes his hands. It hits the sink with a quiet clank. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and looks away from the pile of dishes. That's when he finally sees you through the smudged porthole. The rain outside obscures your silhouette. Nevertheless, Sanji is beyond convinced that it is, in fact, you. Despite the initial relief, he feels his chest tighten. You look like a marble statue, forever frozen still in grief.

Leaving the cutting board in the sink and grabbing his suit jacket, Sanji dashes out the door, making haste to you. What on Earth do you think you're doing out in this weather?

The cold rain hits him like a wall of ice. True, the cool water may feel refreshing after the hot and humid daytime hours but not at this rate of rainfall. Even if the nights in the open sea weren't so dark, it would still be impossible to see anything beyond the ship.

He has to come close to you to see the heartwrenching details of your silhouette. You're hunched over, staring at the turbulent waters below. The clothes you're wearing are absolutely drenched, no dry string in their material. Every now and then, your freezing body shivers violently.

"Love?" he calls out to you in an unsure voice.

But you don't react - at least not in the way he has been expecting you to. Instead of looking at him, you turn your face further away, quickly wiping it with your hands.

Sanji wastes no time. In long strides, he finds himself pressed up against your side and forcing his jacket around your shoulders. Considering the heavy rain it won't do much in the long run but maybe it can keep you warm until he convinces you to go back inside.

"Hey, look at me," he pleads in a soft voice.

Too tired and heartbroken, you let his warm fingers guide your face towards him. As if time suddenly slows down, you notice each wrinkle that appears and disappears when he studies your sorrowful expression. If he was a little less perceptive, Sanji would think your face is just wet from the heavy rainfall. The red veins of your bloodshot, puffy eyes are hardly visible in the darkness of the rainy night but not black enough to remain unseen by Sanji.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying? What happened?" he keeps asking. With each question, he feels the tension in his chest only rising.

"I'm not crying, I'm perfectly fine," you reassure him. Your forced scoff is followed by a pathetic sniffle. "It's just the rain. Saltwater irritated my eyes."

Of course, with your whole "I'm brave and strong and I can manage on my own" facade, you're not going to openly admit to weakness in front of anyone, even if it's painfully obvious. As much as Sanji considers your tough image charming, he wishes you would discard it once in a while - for your own sake.

"How can you be fine with saltwater in your eyes, princess?" Sanji goes along with your poorly constructed lie. His arms engulf you in a warm, albeit drenching wet, hug. "It must burn."

"Yeah, it does," you mumble against his soaking shirt. With a little more light, you would be able to see his bare skin from underneath the wet material. "But it's getting better."

One of Sanji's hands is keeping your head against his shoulder while the other drags up and down your back in a soothing gesture. The jacket he has put around your arms is already drenched, too. He feels your body shaking but can't be sure whether it's because of the "saltwater" or the cold weather. In any case, his heart breaks each time he feels those spasms. His mind panics in search of something that could possibly lift your mood.

The noise of the rainfall is disrupted by a soft, low hum. A melody you vaguely know rumbles inside Sanji's chest. Dean Martin...? Strong arms hold you tightly against his torso as he ever-so-gently sways you to the rhythm of the song.

A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you let yourself sink into the comfort of him. Up until this moment, the cosiness of a loved one's arms confronted with the coldness of a rainstorm, you've thought that scenes like these exist only in sappy novels written for naive young women.

"Slow dancing in the rain," you finally speak up. If it wasn't for the rather unpleasant rain drenching you to every last string of your clothing, yous wear you could fall asleep like this. "Aren't you a hopeless romantic, Sanji?"

"I'm just getting started, love," he murmurs against your hair, still slowly swaying your bodies despite having stopped the humming. You're inclined to believe that his chivalry ventures far beyond dancing in the rain.

"Oh, yes, please."

A low chuckle rumbles inside his chest. It merges into a symphony with the soft thrumming of his steady heartbeat.

"Feeling any better?" he asks in a serious tone.

To Sanji's dissatisfaction, you lean away from him to look at his face. Your eyes are still red but the curious glint he's learned to associate with you has found its way back into them. It seems like your grit, honesty or facade, has returned.

"What will you do if I say no?" you ask back.

As relief washes over him, Sanji smiles down at you. His hand slicks your drenched hair out of your puffy face.

"I should figure something out just for my baby," he answers without missing a beat. His fingers brush along your jaw and chin.

Before you have a chance to inquire, Sanji leans down and lifts you. A yelp of surprise is pulled out of your chest. Without much problem and clearly with a lot of enjoyment, he carries you back inside the lower deck of the ship.

[love4myg]

accidental meetings | myg

summary. navigating through awkward apologies and shared meals with your cute neighbour may promise more than just an unlikely friendship.

────

pairing: yoongi x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: (this note has been edited) this was supposed to be oneshot and it ended up being apart of a mini-series…idk how we got here, but here we are :> hope you guys enjoy reading!!

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Your knuckles rapped against the door rhythmically for the second time.

Your eyes were unfocused and blurry and you could barely stand properly, having to hold onto the wall to prevent yourself from stumbling.

Everyone knew that going out to drink on an empty stomach was a bad idea. The lack of food had let the alcohol take its effect on you much sooner than you had anticipated, and your stomach lowly grumbled at the lack of food.

But when Maya—your roommate—had eagerly dragged you out of your dorm as soon as you returned from dropping all of your study materials back at the library, you didn't have the heart to say no.

A part of you also wanted to celebrate the end of your exams differently. Usually, the end of exam season meant catching up on all the shows you sacrificed watching to study. But going out for drinking also seemed fun.

You regretted your decision the moment Maya abruptly left the club with a random tatted-up guy, leaving you alone amidst the sea of drunk strangers and sweaty bodies. You too, left soon after, not wanting to deal with any creeps that could sour your happy mood.

How you managed to get home in one piece, you weren't sure. You were sure, however, that you had paid the taxi driver double the amount that was due. The overwhelming need to fall into the comforts of your bed seemed to have dulled your thinking, which is why your only annoyance grew with every second that you spent outside your dorm, waiting for Ari—your other roommate—to let you inside.

"Yah, Ari! Let me in you freak!"

You brought your hand up to knock again when the door swung open.

"Fuck's sake, Ari, thought you—hic—thought you were gonna lock me out forev-."

Your slurred words are cut short when your gaze is lifted from the ground to the man who stood in front of you.

His hand rubbed at his eye while his other roughly ran through his hair in an attempt to tame the dark, tousled locks. He stared at you with furrowed brows.

You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes.

"Did you shape-shift or something? What's up with yo—hic—your hair?"

You stepped closer to the stranger and reached out your hand when it dawned on you, hands freezing a few centimetres in front of his hair.

"Shit. You're not Ari, are you?"

The stranger shook his head.

"No, sorry. I think you got the wrong apartment."

His voice was deep and hoarse, still laced with sleep. You felt a pang of guilt in your stomach for waking him up in the middle of the night.

"But the door says seventeen though?"

You blinked blankly at him and another small hiccup escaped you as he looked up at the door. You followed his gaze to the bronze numbering which read seven and not seventeen.

"Shit, 'm so sorry for waking you up, I swear that it said seventeen, I'm really sorry."

Your hands came together in front of you as more apologies tumbled last your lips. Honestly, you barely knew what you were saying, but you felt your embarrassment taint your cheeks with a familiar warmth.

"It's fine, don't worry."

The man's words were awkward and you mumbled a final apology before you moved away. Your apartment was only ten doors down, but the carpeted hallway seemed to stretch out for an eternity. You couldn't deny the eerie feeling that clung to the cold lights and caused small goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Fuck, you had seriously lost it.

You took a few steps with your hands dragging across the pale walls.

"Actually, do you want me to bring you down to your door?"

You look back to see the boy who had already closed his door behind him as he made his way to you. His skin was pale and it almost seemed to glow now that he had emerged from the shadows of his apartment.

Or maybe he was your guardian angel, and a ring of light was going to appear above his head. You were seriously considering the possibility. Why else would a random stranger be so kind to you?

"You really don't—hic—have, I've already disturbed you enough."

"I don't want to worry about you passing out in the hallway. I'm not sleepy anymore anyway, so it's fine."

You gave him an apologetic, timid smile.

"Thank you, uh-."

"Yoongi."

"Yoongi," you repeated. The words bounced off your tongue with ease.

You moved closer to him and ended up clinging to his arm instead of the walls. He lightly froze at your sudden touch but you don't notice.

Your steps are weak but you managed to get to your apartment with the help of his body that guided you.

Yoongi knocked on the door for you and Ari opened it within a few seconds.

"Ariiii!"

You tumbled into her hands and wrapped your arms around her in an uncomfortable embrace.

"Oh my God, ___?" Ari's eyes moved from you to the brunette who stood outside.

"Thank you so much! I'm very sorry if they said something," Ari said, offering the man an apologetic smile.

"No worries, it's fine." His hands rubbed against the back of his neck softly. "Have a good night."

"You too."

She closed the door sharply and Yoongi heard her voice scolding you as you simply giggled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to his apartment, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He knew that he had seen you before—you were too memorable for him to forget. But to his frustration, he couldn’t exactly place when and where.

A small sigh left his lips as he knocked on his door. Leaving his keys inside wasn't ideal and he hoped that Jungkook would wake up to his knocks and let him in. However, he couldn't bring himself to regret walking you down the hallway or blame you for possibly being stuck outside for the rest of the night.

Instead, he found himself wishing to meet you again.

────

The elevator doors opened smoothly and you stepped outside, heaving a heavy bag of groceries in your arms. You supported the bottom of the thin plastic, begging the universe to not curse you and cause the plastic to rip a few doors away from your apartment. 

It had happened before and you still remembered the awkwardness in the air as you scrambled to grab a pack of pads as a group of boys walked past.

You scrunched up your nose and squeezed your eyes as the memory brought waves of embarrassment to course through you. You shook off the feeling as you began to walk along the empty hallway.

Except, it wasn’t exactly empty. Your eyes fell on a boy who sat crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. His dark hair fell in loose waves over his forehead and you noticed a silver earring that lightly glistened on one of his ears. You were sure that if it weren’t for the plaid, red shirt he wore, you would have missed his presence completely.

You unknowingly tilted your head to the side. His features were oddly familiar, from the curve of his nose to the shape of his narrow eyes and his plump bottom lip. 

He was pretty, you wouldn’t deny that. Even with the defeated look on his face.

As you got closer to his figure, realisation dawned on you. This was the guy who helped you to your apartment less than a few days ago.

You felt your cheeks turn warm.

You would’ve speed-walked to your apartment to avoid another possibly embarrassing encounter if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes had already met yours.

His eyebrows rose slightly in recognition and he immediately pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat awkwardly.

You lick your lips before giving him a small smile. It was already too late to try and pretend you hadn’t seen him, so you went with the only option you had left; to walk over to him.

“Hi,” you said, keeping a smile on your face.

“Uh- hi.”

You had never wished for the ground to swallow you up more than you did at that moment. You were usually good with making awkward atmospheres comfortable, and you had no idea why your brain seemed to be malfunctioning.

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever got a chance to apologise to you properly for waking you up that night. I genuinely am sorry, I usually know my limits with alcohol and I don’t know what happened that day,” you said with a dry chuckle. 

Yoongi’s eyes crinkle into a soft smile and you swore that you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“And thank you so so much for bringing me to my apartment, I swear I would’ve ended up sleeping in the middle of the hallway if it weren’t for you!”

“It was nothing, don’t worry.” Yoongi waved his arm in the air as if he were swatting away your words. “I’m glad that I was able to prevent you from sleeping in the hallway.”

You both laughed and you noticed the way his smile stretched out to reveal his gums.

“Oh, I don’t think I got a chance to introduce myself. I’m ___.”

You shifted your groceries to one arm as you outstretched your other. Yoongi took it, his grip soft as he shook your hand. The touch lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have and even as you pulled back, you felt the ghost of his skin on yours.

“So, uh- what are you doing sitting outside your apartment?”

“Ah, that-.” He brought his hand to rest against the back of his neck sheepishly. “-I kinda got locked out. I don’t bother taking the keys since my roommates are usually home, but they’re out today and none of them are picking up their phone.”

As he spoke, his eyes glanced down at his phone. You noticed the array of cracks that spread across the black screen, mimicking the intricate pattern of a cobweb.

“Oh, I think know how you can get in.”

You had learned the hack from an action book you had read a few years ago. As you placed down your bag of groceries against the wall and fished out your wallet, you hoped that the hack wasn’t something that only worked in movies and books.

You looked through your cards and picked out the first unimportant-looking one you found, which happened to be a voucher for the new restaurant that had opened a few blocks down from your apartment complex.

You stepped forward and slid the card into the crack of the door where the handle was as Yoongi watched in curiosity.

You pressed down the card. It took more strength than you anticipated, as the lock didn’t move an inch. You tried again and you felt Yoongi take a step closer to you.

You begged the universe to be on your side. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of the only cute guy who had made an effort to talk to you.

“It’s fine, I can just wai-.”

The card slid down and a small click was heard as it pushed the lock back into the door.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you said, disbelief laced in your voice. However, the joy from your success was short-lived as the door opened up and your plastic card fell to the floor in small pieces.

“Oh my god, thank you so much, seriously.”

The excitement in Yoongi’s voice died down as soon as you turned back to look up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“No problem.”

“I’m sorry about the card,” he said and it was your turn to swat away his apologies.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I owed you anyway. I guess we’re even now.”

Yoongi nodded and stepped inside. He picked up the pieces of plastic from the ground and handed it to you, noticing the broken lettering which he worked out to spell the name of the new restaurant that had opened up nearby.

You picked up your bag of groceries from the floor.

“Again, thank you. See you around,” he said with a small wave of his hand.

“Bye!” You mimicked the wave.

Yoongi couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach as he watched you walk away. The restaurant wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was expensive enough for a college student. He softly shut the door and brought his bottom lip between his teeth in thought.

Maybe he could make it up to you.

────

Yoongi was the last person you expected to be greeted by outside your door on a Tuesday evening. But there he stood, sporting a plain, white t-shirt under a denim jacket.

“Oh, hi! Was not expecting you,” you said. You didn’t realise how unwelcoming the words sounded until they tumbled from your lips, but Yoongi didn’t seem to catch on.

“Yeah, uh- Look, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that you broke your voucher tryna help me so I got you this as an apology.”

He held out a brown, paper bag in front of him and you realise that the lettering printed on it read the name of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the plastic packaging of takeaway which confirmed your suspicions.

“Yoongi, I couldn’t possibly take this. I helped you out because you helped me out, and the voucher wasn’t even that big of a deal, genuinely!”

You reached out your hand to push the bag towards him again, but his grip persisted.

“Please?”

The word fell from his lips softly, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a few beats. His eyes fell on yours for a split second before he broke his gaze. You didn’t have it in you to reject his kind gesture, but at the same time, you felt guilty if you did accept it.

“What about we share it? That makes it fair, right?”

“I- I don’t know-.”

“Please?” You’re voice mimicked his tone from when he had spoked the exact same word. “I’ll feel too guilty if I just take it. My roommates are both out for the night, so we can eat it together if you want.”

Yoongi hesitated, but the idea of spending time with you felt nice.

“Okay.”

Your lips curled into a bright smile as you invited him inside. Yoongi waited for you to close and lock the door, and followed you as you led him to your kitchen. He placed the paper bag onto the smooth, marble countertop as you pulled out two plates from the white cabinets that stretched up to the ceiling.

You began to take out all the containers and spread them out over the counter.

“There’s so much bro, I would not have been able to finish this,” you said with a smile that Yoongi returned.

“I mean, you could’ve shared it with your roommates.”

“Mhm, I guess. I rather share it with you though.”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned pink as he let out a timid chuckle. Honestly, you didn’t know what gave you the confidence, but you enjoyed the reactions you garnered from the brunet boy.

He helped you as both of you filled your plates with food. The aroma that easily spread across the kitchen made your mouths water, and you dug in as soon as you brought over chopsticks and spoons for the two of you.

“Damnn, this is good,” you said with a moan of satisfaction. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you spoke and Yoongi hummed in agreement. His own eyes fluttered shut as he savoured the taste.

“So, what do you do?” You asked before putting another spoonful of food into your mouth.

“I’m in a band. That’s why I moved here, actually. The other members thought we’d be more productive if we all lived together but I’m starting to doubt that."

You chuckle. “A band? Damn, that’s so cool."

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “I mean it is and I love all the members and all but...it can get tiring sometimes, y’know.”

Even though you couldn’t exactly relate to him, you nodded understandingly with a hum.

“You should play me one of your songs!”

“Uh- no.”

You shot him a scowl at his immediate rejection of the idea.

“Whyy? I won’t judge, I swear.”

Yoongi closed his eyes with a playfully pained expression on his face as you practically begged him for a chance to listen to one of his songs.

“I’ll show it to you eventually. Maybe.”

“Yah! No maybes, you’re definitely showing it to me next time!”

Next time. Yoongi couldn’t wait for the next time he could see you again.

A smooth conversation ensued after you both had taken a few more bites of the food. You felt oddly comfortable in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to cover your mouth when you laughed or hold back on your words, didn’t feel the need to hide away any part of yourself.

You felt like you could be yourself, and the feeling was strange. It caused a tug of warmth in your heart.

Soon enough, both of you had scoffed most of the food. You began to store the rest of the takeaway in sealed bowls and Yoongi moved to the dishes in the sink.

“Ah, you can just leave them, I’ll do them later,” you said, but Yoongi washed them anyway. A part of you was grateful that he did, as washing the dishes was one of your least favourite chores.

You took the plates he had rinsed and placed them into the dishwasher. Silence filled the air, only broken by the quiet ticking of the clock that hung on your wall, but the atmosphere was far from tense or awkward. Neither of you felt the need to try to start a random conversation and simply focused on the tasks at hand.

“Thanks so much, for the food and the cleaning up. I really do appreciate it!” You said as you wiped your hands dry on a small cloth.

“It’s no problem, really.”

You opened the door for him as he slipped into his shoes.

“We need to actually go to the restaurant someday, get the full experience y’know?”

Yoongi smiled with a nod.

“We can arrange a day over the phone if you want?”

“I’d love that!”

Yoongi fished out his phone from the back pocket of his darkly coloured jeans in an instant and typed in your number as you called it out to him.

“See you soon, ___.”

“Byee.”

You gave a quick wave of your hand which he returned before he began walking back down to his apartment. You couldn’t hide the content smile on your face as closed the door, eagerly grabbing your phone from the counter.

Yoongi sent you a text less than a minute later, and you added his number to your contacts.

You too couldn’t wait for the next time.

[hartoru]

beach house neighbour! satoru

notes ╰┈➤ ❝ heavily inspired by that one hc my girl ari wrote about this...couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout it...reblogs n interactions always appreciated, love you ✧ ❞

content ╰┈➤ ❝ just a little satoru somethin' to celebrate my tumblr debut in 2024 hehe...no minors should interact here since, eventual smut, and mentions of alcohol are mentioned...✧ ❞

word count╰┈➤ ❝ less than 700...✧ ❞

beach house neighbour! satoru, who throws the best parties ever.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who somehow still wakes up early in the morning to join you for your daily jogs on the beach.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who scratches the back of his neck and sheepishly apologizes for the noise last night, lying about how he'll try to keep it down next time.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who notices your soft, yeah, right. and immediately with a determined look on his face, offers to make it up to you by inviting you to breakfast.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who opens the door to his house, apologizing for the mess, even though it looks surprisingly clean for a house that was full of drunk people a few hours ago.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who makes you the best breakfast you've ever had. his keen blue eyes observing every bite you take, the pout of your lips as you blow air on the hot pancakes, the smile across your face as you chew the soft texture, the little crumble on the side of your mouth, that he so badly wants to reach out and wipe slowly.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who gulps the last of his coffee in the afternoon, gazing directly into the sea where you're swimming in your tiniest bikini. waving back at you as you walk onto the sand and notice him.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who invites himself over to yours for dinner, mumbling about he exhausted all his food on your breakfast and how he's too drained to go out to shop.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who sips on the red wine you offered, leaning back on your couch and lazily staring at your face glowing from the fairy lights, as he wonders if you taste the same right now.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who doesn't think twice and leans into you, the grip on his glass tight enough to break it as he softly places his lips on yours.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who eventually does break the glass, spills the wine all over his shirt, a little on your carpet, and suddenly becomes so conscious, pulling away from you and standing up, looking at the mess with a shocked face because he's too overwhelmed with his feelings for you, that he can't understand how this happened.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who is so stunned when you grab him by the collar of his white shirt, mumbling against his lips about how the wine will leave a stain if you don't put it in the washing machine immediately.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who takes his shirt off immediately, revealing the perfect beach body he'd worked so hard on every evening, contradicting his words of how he wouldn't want that to happen to his favourite shirt, by throwing it across the balcony, the cold air hitting his godly-built chest, and making his nipples perk.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who wraps his large arms around your waist, picking you up and settling you on his lap as he falls back on the couch. grinning widely at your stunned expression, his long fingers push the ends of your dress further and further up.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who's throwing his head back, watching you straddle him like that, your dress riding up to your thighs, making your cute lace panties so visible, desperate whines escaping his mouth as your crotch repeatedly rubs and bumps against his clothed hard cock.

beach house neighbour! satoru, who unknowingly mumbles, 'w-wan' y'er pussy s-so bad, y-y/n...think 'bout it e-everyday...ngh-!' against your ear, as your tight walls stretch around his large veiny cock, your nails leaving scratches on his shoulders, scratches that won't be gone until the next few weeks at least. but that's alright, you could just make new ones by then.

© hartoru 2024. please do not plagiarise, record, translate or repost .

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :SUMMER FLING (PT1) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Literally none!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the peaceful town of Portofino, you run a café that offers a calm escape from New York. When Hugh Jackman, being on a long due holiday, started frequenting your café, you try to keep things friendly and low-key. As summer progresses, your conversations grow more engaging, and you begin to look forward to his visits, hoping that maybe, it can bloom into something more.

THE SOUND OF THE BELL ABOVE THE DOOR CHIMED SOFTLY AS YOU FLIPPED THE SIGN ON YOUR BOOKSTORE CAFE TO, Aperto. The sun was just beginning to rise over the glittering sea of Portofino, casting a golden glow across the picturesque Italian town. The cobbled streets were still quiet, with only the occasional scooter whirring by. It was early yet, but you had always enjoyed the calm before the bustle, when it felt like the whole world was still asleep, and this tiny corner of paradise belonged only to you.

After moving here from New York two years ago, you had found a rhythm. Your café-bookstore, Il Sogno, had quickly become a favorite of both locals and tourists. With its shelves lined with well-worn books and the scent of fresh espresso hanging in the air, it was your sanctuary—a world away from the chaos of Manhattan.

You pulled a fresh batch of pastries from the oven just as the door opened, and in walked your most faithful customer and friend, Signora Rossi. Every morning without fail, she’d be there, perched at the window with her espresso and biscotti, watching the town slowly wake up.

“Buongiorno, cara!” she greeted you with a smile, her voice warm with familiarity. She was in her late sixties, her grey hair pulled into a neat bun, her eyes sharp and full of mischief. She was like a second mother, always full of gossip and advice, especially when it came to your love life—or lack thereof.

“Morning, Signora,” you said, pouring her usual espresso.

“Did you hear about the new mystery man who arrived yesterday?” she asked, leaning over the counter as though she had the juiciest secret in town.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear, nothing escapes you, does it?”

“Of course not,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “He’s rented the villa by the sea. You know, the one with the view of the harbor. No one knows who he is, but I’ve heard he’s famous.”

“Famous?” You raised an eyebrow, handing her the cup. “What, like a movie star?”

“Perhaps,” she mused, stirring her espresso. “But he’s been very quiet, very private. It’s only a matter of time before someone figures it out. Maybe he’ll come into your café, and you’ll charm him.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Maybe he’ll just want his coffee in peace.”

~🌻~

But as the morning went on, you couldn’t help but wonder. A famous stranger in Portofino? It wasn’t unusual for celebrities to vacation in the area, but something about the mystery piqued your curiosity.

Hours passed, and the café began to fill with its usual mix of locals and tourists. You were busy behind the counter, making lattes and chatting with customers when the door chimed again. You glanced up from the espresso machine, ready with your typical warm greeting, and froze.

He stood in the doorway, sunglasses perched on his nose, casually dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans. There was something about him—his presence, the way he carried himself—that made you do a double-take. You knew that face.

Hugh Jackman.

The mystery man. You immediately recognized him, but years in New York had taught you how to keep your cool around famous people. You bit back your surprise and forced yourself to act normal.

“Good afternoon,” you said with a smile. “What can I get you?”

He smiled—warm, friendly, and entirely unassuming, which caught you off guard. “G’day! A cappuccino, please,” he replied, his Australian accent unmistakable.

As you prepared his cappuccino, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. He was taller than you expected, and even more handsome in person, if that was possible. But what stood out was how calm and down-to-earth he seemed, nothing like the larger-than-life characters he played on screen.

When you handed him the cup, he took a seat near the window, pulling a book from his bag—a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, one of your favorites. He seemed so at ease, as if he belonged in this small-town café, far removed from the spotlight.

You busied yourself with other customers, but every now and then, your eyes would wander to him. Part of you wanted to say something—anything—to break the ice, but what would you say? “Hey, you’re Wolverine” seemed a bit much.

Instead, you let him enjoy his coffee in peace. You couldn’t help but smile when Signora Rossi came in again not long after and spotted him immediately. She practically squealed with excitement.

“Oh mio Dio!” she whispered, gripping your arm as she looked over at Hugh. “That’s him, the mystery man! Hugh Jackman!”

You suppressed a laugh, nodding. “Yes, I know.”

“And you’re not going to say anything?” she asked, incredulous.

“I think he’d rather enjoy his coffee without being mobbed.”

Signora Rossi huffed but sat down, unable to keep her eyes off Hugh. Meanwhile, you kept sneaking glances as well, but you didn’t say a word.

Just as you were wiping down the counter, Hugh stood up and approached. Your heart gave a little jump as he walked toward you, holding his empty cup.

“That was the best cappuccino I’ve had in a long time,” he said, his smile genuine.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I try.”

He laughed softly, glancing around the café. “This is a nice place. How long have you had it?”

“About two years,” you replied, feeling more at ease now that he was talking to you like any other customer. “Moved here from New York. Decided I needed a change of pace.”

“New York, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “I know that feeling.”

There was something in the way he said it—like he, too, was running from something. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you felt a flicker of connection. But then, just as quickly, he smiled again, and the moment passed.

“Well, thanks again for the coffee,” he said, pulling out his wallet to pay.

You waved him off. “On the house. Consider it a welcome to Portofino.”

He looked at you, surprised but grateful. “Thanks. I’ll definitely be back.”

He held out his hand, his touch warm and firm as you shook it. “I’m Hugh, by the way.”

You smiled, feeling a slight blush on your cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Hugh.” You said before telling him your name.

With that, he left, the bell chiming softly behind him. You watched as he walked down the street, his figure disappearing into the sunlight. There was a new excitement in the air, a spark of something more than just a casual encounter.

Signora Rossi was practically vibrating with excitement. “You didn’t even ask for a picture!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’ll be back.”

As you turned back to the counter, a small smile tugged at your lips. Maybe this summer wouldn’t be so uneventful after all.

~🌻~

A few days passed, and just as Hugh had promised, he returned. He’d become something of a regular at Il Sogno, always slipping in quietly in the morning, ordering a cappuccino, and settling into his usual spot near the window with a book. You’d exchange polite smiles and brief pleasantries, but nothing more than that. He seemed to enjoy the peaceful anonymity, and you didn’t want to disrupt his quiet.

The locals, however, were not so subtle. Every time he came in, you caught people stealing glances or whispering to each other, no doubt recognizing him. But Hugh seemed unfazed, content to sit by himself, unnoticed for the most part.

~🌻~

It was a Thursday afternoon when things finally changed. The café was quieter than usual, only a couple of tables occupied by some tourists flipping through the books they’d found on your shelves. The air was warm, with a soft breeze drifting in from the open door, carrying the scent of the sea.

You were wiping down the counter when you noticed Hugh had taken a different seat than usual—this time, at the counter. He slid onto the barstool across from you, cappuccino in hand, giving you that same easy smile.

“Slow day, huh?” he asked, his voice casual as he took a sip from his cup.

“Yeah, it gets quieter after lunch. The tourists are usually at the beach by now,” you replied, setting the rag aside. It was strange to see him up close, talking to you like this, but strangely, it felt... nice. Familiar, even.

“Perfect time for a coffee, then,” he said, his gaze wandering around the café before settling back on you. “You’re lucky. This place is something special. Must’ve taken guts to move all the way from New York and start this up.”

You smiled, leaning slightly against the counter. “It wasn’t easy, but I needed the change. New York is... a lot. Portofino is the opposite—quiet, calm. Exactly what I needed.”

Hugh nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. “I know the feeling. I came here for the same reason—needed to get away for a while, clear my head.”

There was something in his tone, a hint of exhaustion hidden beneath his easygoing demeanor. You could relate—life in the city had a way of wearing people down, even someone like Hugh.

“So,” he continued, taking another sip, “have you always wanted to run a bookstore café?”

You chuckled softly, wiping your hands on a towel. “Honestly? No. I studied literature in university and always dreamed of being a writer, but... running this place has become something I love more than I expected.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “Literature major? That explains the excellent book selection here. I’ve picked up a few from your shelves already.”

You smiled, feeling a flush of pride. “I try to keep it interesting. What are you reading right now?”

He tapped the cover of The Count of Monte Cristo he had with him. “A classic. One of my favorites. What about your favorites?”

“Oh love that book! I already saw you with it one time. I have a soft spot for anything by Fitzgerald,” you admitted. The Great Gatsby... it’s been my favorite since I was a teenager.”

Hugh smiled warmly. “Ah, Fitzgerald. A romantic at heart.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said with a small laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m a sucker for those tragic love stories.”

“Well,” Hugh said, his tone teasing, “I’m not sure that’s the healthiest thing to admit.”

You laughed, the sound filling the quiet café with a warm, inviting tone. There was a spark in his eyes that made you feel more connected than ever, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle way he leaned closer, as if the conversation was something he genuinely cherished.

“I guess I like my love stories with a bit of drama,” you replied, your eyes meeting his with a playful glint.

Hugh leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the counter. “So, does that mean you believe in happy endings, or...?”

You paused, feeling the intensity of his gaze. There was something deeply intimate in the way he looked at you, making you feel as if the café had faded away and it was just the two of you. “I think... I like the idea of them,” you said softly.

Hugh’s expression softened, and he smiled warmly. “Yeah, me too.”

The moment hung between you, filled with unspoken possibilities. The air seemed to shimmer with the promise of something more, something beyond the casual encounters of the past few days.

Just then, the door chimed again, and a group of tourists entered, their laughter and chatter breaking the spell. Hugh glanced at them, then back at you. “Looks like your peaceful café just got a bit livelier.”

You chuckled. “Looks like it. I’ll get back to work, but feel free to stay as long as you like.”

Hugh nodded, standing up. “I think I might just take you up on that at another time. I have a ticket for a tour this afternoon. But thank you for your company.”

As he left, the door chimed softly behind him. You watched him walk down the street, a part of you wishing he’d stay a bit longer. The gentle buzz of the café returned, but the earlier conversation lingered, making you smile with a mix of excitement and contentment.

~🌻~

Later that afternoon, while you were tidying up the shelves, Signora Rossi approached with a knowing smile.

“You seem quite taken with our new guest,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You looked up, surprised by her observation. “Oh, it’s not like that. We’ve just been talking.”

“Talking and talking,” she said, her grin widening. “He’s a charming man. And it’s clear he enjoys your company.”

You blushed slightly, trying to hide your smile. “I suppose he does.”

Signora Rossi’s eyes twinkled. “Well, don’t be surprised if something more comes of it. Sometimes, summer in Portofino has a way of making dreams come true.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not sure about that, but I do enjoy his company.”

~🌻~

As the days went on, Hugh became more than just a regular customer; he became a fixture in your daily routine. Each visit was marked by easy conversation and shared laughter. You started to look forward to his visits more and more, the highlight of your day.

One warm evening, as you were closing up the café, Hugh arrived. He looked slightly more relaxed than usual, as if the vacation had already begun to work its magic on him.

“Evening,” he greeted with a broad smile.

“Evening!” you responded, locking the door behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just felt like enjoying the evening here,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. “Do you have any recommendations for a good spot to watch the sunset?”

You thought for a moment, then suggested a secluded spot by the harbor. “It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it. Perfect for watching the sunset.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds perfect. Maybe we could go together sometime?”

You felt a flutter of excitement at the invitation. “I’d like that.”

As you finished up for the evening, you and Hugh talked about your favorite spots in Portofino, and he shared more about his travels and experiences. The connection between the two of you seemed to deepen, and as the sun set over the small town, you couldn’t help but feel that this summer was turning into something unexpectedly special.

You said your goodbyes with a promise to meet up the next day to watch the sunset. As you watched Hugh walk away into the twilight, you felt a mix of anticipation and contentment. This summer was shaping up to be far more than you’d ever imagined.

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I AM SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS STORY WITH YOU ALL!!

(I’m sorry if some of the tags aren’t working, i tried to change them but Tumblr doesn’t let me, i’ll try again in the next chapter! )

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know ❤️

[soulofapatrick]

Moonlight Confessions - Jeremiah Fisher x Reader

Summary: You can't sleep so slip into bed with Jeremiah like you used to do as kids

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: none, just fluff

Notes: I have a new character obsession but ill still write alll my old characters I promise

Y/N’s POV

The night hangs heavy around me as I lie in bed, surrounded by the hushed symphony of the beach house settling into the quietude of the late hour. Moonlight spills though the half-closed curtains, casting ethereal shadows on the wall. The rhythmic murmur of the waves serves as a lullaby, yet instead of being soothing, it only accentuates the restlessness within. 

I toss and turn, the sheets twisting around me like a futile attempt to escape the grip of insomnia. The wooden floorboards beneath creak softly in response to my every movement, the house itself seemingly alive with memories and secrets. The air is thick with the scent of salt, a subtle reminder of the proximity of the ocean just beyond the windows. 

A gentle sigh escapes me, and I sit up, the moonlit room offering a muted palette of grass and blues. The sea breeze slips through the open window, carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean and a faint hint of sunscreen lingering on my skin from a day spent under the sun. It’s a scent that feels like summer, a tangible reminder of days filled with laughter and quiet moments. The beach house, usually echoing with the laughter of friends that have become family and the clinking of glasses, is now draped in a serene quietness. The only sounds are the distant waves, the occasional creaks of the house, and the soft rustle of leaves outside the window. The night is alive with a different kind of energy, one that invites introspection and quiet contemplation. 

I glance at the clock; its numbers glow faintly, indicating the lateness of the hour. Frustration wells up within me as the thoughts in my head refuse to quiet down. The weight of uncertainty presses on my chest, and the moonlight, once a friend, now feels accusatory, illuminating the shadows of doubt. 

With a resigned sigh, I slip out of bed, the coolness of the wooden floor soothing against my bare feet. The moonlit room is empty, and the stillness is almost palpable I find myself standing by the window gazing out at the silver expanse of the ocean, debating whether to go for a late night swim. The rhythmic lull of the waves seems to beckon, promising a brief escape from the tangled thought that refuse to let go. 

However, a different impulse guides me tonight. There’s a yearning for connection, for a presence that might understand my sleeplessness. My bare feet carry me down the hallway, each step a whisper against the aged floorboards. The soft glow of the moonlight follows me, casting a silvery trail towards Jeremiah’s room. 

I hesitate for a moment, hand resting on the doorknob, wondering if I’m intruding. But the pull is undeniable, and with a gentle push, the door opens. The room is awash in the same moonlight, giving it an almost magical ambiance. My eyes find Jeremiah’s form, asleep and seemingly at peace. He lies sprawled across the bed, one arm flung lazily over his head, the other resting against the pillow. The soft rise and fall on his chest speaks of a deep, undisturbed slumber. Moonbeams play on the edges of his tanned features, casting gentle shadows that dance in tandem with the ebb and flow of the ocean outside. 

In the quiet room, I can hear his rhythmic breathing, a sound that harmonises with the distant waves. The worries etched onto his face during waking hours are softened in the moonlight, leaving behind the serenity of someone unburdened, if only for the night. A smile tugs at my lips as I watch him, realising that the moonlit room holds a different kind of tranquility with him in it. His vulnerability while asleep is endearing, and the knots of restlessness within me begin to loosen. 

With each step, the floor beneath me barely creaking, I move across the room towards him. The moonlight bathes the space in a silvery glow, and as I reach his bedside, I find myself inexplicably drawn to the warmth emanating from his sleeping form. Gently, I lift the duvet, the fabric rustling softly in the quiet room. I slide into the bed beside him, careful not to disturb his peaceful repose. The mattress gives a subtle sigh beneath my weight, and I hold my breath for a moment, hoping to preserve the serenity of the night. 

As I settle beside Jeremiah, the contrast between the coolness of the sheets and the warmth of his presence is palpable. The moonlight paints a soft halo around his features, casting shadows that plat on the contours of his face. His eyelashes rest against him cheeks, and the faint moonlight lines on his skin tell stories only visible when the world is hushed 

I watch him for a moment, laying on my side, facing him, a cascade of mixed emotions washing over me. The quiet intimacy of the moonlit room and the closeness we share creates a bubble, shielding us from the uncertainties of the waking world. 

Unable to resits the urge to touch, I reach out and trace a gentle line along his jaw, my fingertips barely grazing his skin. He stirs, a subtle shift in his breathing, and a small smile plays on his lips as if he sense my presence even in his dreams. 

“Mouse?” He mumbles, my nickname making my cheeks heat up, voice heavy with sleep as his eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim light. Confusion flickers in his gaze for a moment before recognition settles in, a sleepy smile graces his lips as he meets my eyes, “What’s wrong?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit, my fingers now tracing aimless patterns across his cheek, feeling the smile as well as seeing it deepen as he shifts to pull me closer to him. 

He wraps his arms around me in a warm embrace, the duvet a soft cocoon around us. The scent of his skin and subtle musk of the room creates a comforting atmosphere, and I rest my head against the curve of his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek. Jeremiah, still half-asleep, responds by pulling me even closer until there’s no space between us. The contours of our bodies fit together as if they were pieces of a puzzle meant to be connected. The room is filled with a quiet intimacy, the kind that words struggle to capture. 

His fingers train through my hair, a gentle rhythmic motion that lulls me into a sense of peace, “You can always come to me,” He murmurs, his voice a soft whisper in the silence. 

A contented sigh escapes my lips as his touch soothes the restlessness within me. He cups my jaw with his hand, his thumb rubbing over my cheek soothingly. The moonlight painting a silver glow on his face, highlighting the warmth in his ocean blue eyes as he gazes at me. 

“Better?” He asks, his voice a gentle hum against my ear. 

I can just nod, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders in the quiet sanctuary of his arms, replaced with something different. Something so familiar yet foreign, like a feeling I’ve pushed down over and over again until it can’t be contained anymore. My thumb brushing over Jeremiah’s bottom lip tentatively, as if testing a theory and it’s no longer a theory when his breath hitches. 

We linger in that suspended moment, our eyes locked in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. The room is charged with an unspoken understanding, the air thick with anticipation. Neither of us is sure who should make the first move, and the vulnerability that hangs between ys is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. 

My thumb traces a path over Jeremiah’s lips once more, and this time, there’s no mistaking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. It’s a quiet invitation, a whisper in the language of touch that bridges the gap between uncertainty and desire. His eyes, already darkened pools of warmth, flicker with a newfound intensity. His gaze drops to my lips, and in that shared gaze, an unspoken agreement forms. It’s a mutual acknowledgment of something unexplored yet palpable, a connection that has lingered beneath the surface. 

Cautiously, almost tentatively, Jeremiah move his face closer, his breath warming the small space between us. The seconds stretch into an eternity as we hover on the precipice of a moment that could redefine the contours of our relationship.

His lips brush against mine in the softest of touches, a delicate exploration that speaks of uncharted territory. It’s a dance of closeness, of discovering the texture and taste of something that, until now remained in the realm of unspoken possibilities. His lips are warm, molding against mine with a gentle insistence that feels like a secret shared. The touch is soft but laced with a quiet intensity, a magnetic pull that bridges the space between us. There's a tenderness in the way his lips move, as if tracing the contours of a story that has yet to be written. 

The sensation is both electrifying and comforting, a paradox of emotions that bloom in the simple act of this newfound intimacy. His lips are a revelation, unveiling a language that transcends words. Each brush and caress feels like a promise, a silent vow exchanged in the hallowed silence of the moonlit room. 

There’s a faint taste lingering on his lips, a subtle essence that is uniquely Jeremiah. It's a blend of warmth and something indefinable, a taste that imprints itself on my senses like the lingering notes of a melody. It's a flavour that I never knew I craved until this moment, a discovery that adds a new layer to the complexity of our connection.

As we kiss, the world outside the room fades away, leaving only the cadence of our breaths and the quiet symphony of the night. Jeremiah's hand, now placed on my hip, grips me like I’m going to disappear and I’m not much better myself. My hands are tangled in his blond curls and pressed against his chest as he continues to kiss me senseless. 

“Jere,” His name is spoken in less than a breath, as if speaking any louder would break the moment and I just feel his smile against my lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“This isn’t… I like you… I don’t-“ 

He pulls back enough to meet my gaze, an amused look on his face as he watches me fumble over my words, before he whispers out four words I could not be happier to hear: “I like you too.” 

“You do?” 

“Go to sleep Mouse.” 

“Make out with me.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

[yan-lorkai]

Só lembrei da minha ideia agora, perdão mandar tarde assim

Você conseguiria escrever yandere! Azul, malleus e vil com uma Yuu que simplesmente não fica presa?

Não é como se ela quisesse fugir ou estivesse muito desconfortável, pelo contrário, elaate gosta deles, ela simplesmente so não fica presa

Tipo, o malleus prende ela em um quarto e meia hora depois ela tá andando pela diasomnia como se ela não tivesse feito a coisa mais impressionante do mundo, e quando perguntam pra ela "como vc escapou?" Ela só fala tipo "ah mano, o cadeado quebrou" como se não fosse nada

Muito obrigada, e time muito cuidado consigo mesma

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Translation: Can I have Azul, Malleus and Vil with a reader that always escape somehow? Like, she's super lucky and things tend to work for her. But it's not that she wants to run away or don't like them, it's just somehow she always escape.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Gonna reply in english, Sweetie! But omg have I told you already that I loved this? This is all so silly and they're so dramatic, help---. I was imagining so many scenes when I was writing those hcs that I sincerely thought for a whole second to write a oneshot instead. Glad I didn't because it would be lengthy as hell, not that I won't do it in the future 👀. Well I hope you enjoy, darling! <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, kidnapping (on malmal's part), Azul's insecurity + him guilty tripping reader, reader loves the yandere, technically fem!reader but no pronouns / gendered terms were used so everyone can read!

Malleus is a powerful wizard and he knows it. He could move mountains with the blink of an eye or make the seas stir, in fact, he would be more than happy to demonstrate everything he can do in front of you. He almost looks like a bird trying to impress its partner. So silly.

The problem is that Malleus is possessive, he wants you by his side all the time. He wants you to be the blood that runs through his veins, wants you to be the air he breathes and the water that touches his lips, that's why, after a few months of just being your friend, he takes the first step and asks you to be his lover. And he's a good boyfriend, a little clumsy and confused, of course, it's his first time in a romantic relationship, but he always tries to be better for you. He is almost perfect.

But not even that can tame the inner dragon that roars and breathes fire inside, far from it, having you so close makes Malleus more greedy. He just wants more and as usual he simply takes what he wants. Your moving into his room as he likes to call it happens at night, after you sleep so peacefully without knowing what is happening, his fingers gently groping over your skin, his lips connecting with your cheeks and forehead as he watches over your dreams. He can get used to it.

When you wake up and the first thing you see is your boyfriend and hear him say all those absurd things and feelings that have been building up in his chest, of course you don't react well. You're scared, confused but there's still love for him in your heart as you slowly turn away and hide yourself on his blankets, pondering.

But there's nothing you can do, not at that moment and controlling yourself as much as you can, you pretend that kidnapping people because you love them so much is considered normal - for someone who has lived a long time like him, Malleus certainly doesn't understand sarcasm, since he's overjoyed, kissing you and being content in watching you do completely mundane things.

By the way, even if you wanted to run away, appealing to Silver's good heart or Sebek's sense of justice is in vain. If their prince decided to do what he did then they won't stop him, instead they will talk to you, explain to you that things will be better if you just accept it. And Lilia will endorse this thought.

Now, after some time passed and you realized that you didn't care, it's not as if you're trying to escape per say. But as you were trying to open the doors to go outside for something, you applied a little more force and it opened. The same happened when you tried to open the windows, removing the padlocks from them with ease since they weren't even closed, letting the sun's rays illuminate Malleus's room. If Malleus was trying to keep you in his room he was failing horribly.

Your supposed plans to escape improving with each new attempt, but no matter how many times you "escaped" Malleus always seems to be two steps ahead, a smug smile on his lips.

He always knows that you will try to run away, just as he knows that after that you will come running into his arms as if nothing had happened, wanting the comfort that only he can offer. While your escape attempts are funny to watch, he asks you why you always escape and how, and your answer makes him laugh loudly. So you're not trying to escape, you just don't like to spend everyday in his room and away from him? Granted, he now takes you on walks in Diasomnia's gardens and through some ruins he has found. He also allows you to spend time with his brothers and father.

Now that he knows you're not trying to escape, Malleus will let you walk peacefully through Diasomnia and the campus but you know that somehow he is always watching you. At the end of the day you will return to his side.

⠀

Vil knows who he is and what he is capable of doing, what he is capable of achieving if he stays focused and persists in whatever is on his mind. And at the moment what occupies his mind is you, his sweet schatz. Loving you is the best thing that has happened to him, so soft and sublime, just like the books and movies suggested it would be.

And it's out of love that Vil brings you to live at Pomefiore after talking to you and knowing your opinion, he knows very well that his feelings of possession are unhealthy but in a world of villains, you learn to ignore that. It doesn't mean he doesn't first try to get your opinion on moving before he becomes a villain who stole your freedom in your eyes. And seriously, life in Pomefiore is better than in Ramshackle where you had to hope the roof didn't fly off and be careful with the stairs and the leaks and the hard mattress that made your back hurt.

You notice that Vil reveals his true colors slowly, switching this and that in your schedule to match his. Or doing your skin care himself because he likes the control and taking care of you, and well, you don't really care about that. Not even with the big changes he makes, as long as he still loves you, you follow him without complaining. And Vil realizes this, which is why he never imagined you would try to escape from him. If you can call this an escape attempt, that is.

You were creating potions in Vil's personal laboratory. Why? Because you wanted to show him what you had learned today, but the potion was so potent that it almost put him to sleep as soon as he smelled it. Needless to say, he wasn't happy about it, a little disoriented and with a growing migraine on the way, he thought that you were trying to put him to sleep to run away. But he was strangely happy to notice that you were feeling guilty and explaining what were your intentions as you make sure that everything's was alright with him. As an actor he knows how to recognize a liar, but you spoke the truth. So he decided to let it go.

It was just a single, terrible mistake, right?

Such incidents continued to occur. Sometimes even Rook had difficulty following you around campus, having to use his Unique Magic to be able to keep his eyes on you. Lady Lucky seemed to favor your above everyone else, helping you in your little escapades. You did a little bit of everything, you even managed to create a shrinking potion, staying tiny for a whole day and, instead of looking for Vil to fix this problem, you went out there into the world wanting to experience the spontaneity of the moment. One of these days you'll leave him gray with worry.

Despite the frustration bubbling within him, Vil sits you down at his dressing table to work on your hair and asks you about all these incidents, wondering if they were just tests to see how far you could push him to his limit before actually trying to escape. But when you explain your intentions to him, knowing that you're not trying to get away from him takes a weight off his shoulders. The whole situation becomes comical, here he was worried and with countless thoughts running through his head, a particularly potent potion hidden in his pocket and here you are, completely unaware of the effects you have on him.

He thinks it's ridiculous that he considered that you would run away when he stops to think about how you adore his affection, drink in his every word and savor his every gesture. You're a troublemaker but are still so dependent on him. Maybe he was a little hasty and now he can finally relax. This little quality of yours though both confounded and captivated him.

⠀⠀

Azul is above all a strategist. He plans everything from the way you will meet for the first time to the way he will steal something from you. Maybe a talent, maybe a skill, but something will become his to satisfy that strange feeling he has in his chest every time he sees you. Weeks of plans are thrown out the window as soon as one day you sit in his office chair, wanting to make a contract with him. And that is the unique chance he has been waiting for, regardless of what your heart desires, he is able to achieve it and in return have you.

If only it were that simple... It's only after his whole overblot fiasco that you finally start to get closer, you still staying by his side to help him rebuild Mostro Lounge. And months later, friendship became a relationship due to Azul's calculations and assumptions. In the end you had your wish fulfilled and so did he, having you as his partner was like a dream come true. Yet, sometimes he wonders what you see in him.

He doesn't let that thought stay on his mind much, preferring to spend time with you, thinking about you, heavens he's so clingy he can't even keep his hands off you, that is, when you're alone of course. You're so sweet to him, bringing him coins for his collection and asking him how his day was, it's nice to have someone who cares. But it's terrible to imagine the ways that anyone who has a beef with him would hurt you for his actions, so Azul proposes another contract with the intention of protecting you from possible threats.

The contract in theory is simple: to remain under the twins' watch and protection. Though, your friends and other people tend to avoid you because of this, because Jade and Floyd are too intimidating. You particularly find them funny with their very different mannerisms, hovering over your shoulders like two shadows, Floyd pestering you while Jade supposedly tries to control him. Azul thinks this is a good contract, whether you think so or not - he can be convinced otherwise through persuasion.

Something that Azul didn't foresee, however, was that the twins would get bored of playing babysitter and would drag you somewhere. Jade wanted to show you his terrariums while Floyd wanted to take you to see their house, neither of them answering any of Azul's messages or calls, not even you but that's because you were trying to get the twins not to fight each other. So your escapades happen because of them, because of that Azul knows that you're not trying to leave him and he recognizes that, but due to his insecurity, every time you return to him Azul seems about to start crying while he wrap himself all over you.

If you tried to run away he could at least do this and that to prevent it, instead he tries to make you feel guilty for making him worry so much. He was about to cut off his own tentacles and eat them if you took one more second to walk through that door, is that what you wanted? It must be, otherwise you wouldn't have run away without saying anything to him >:(

Cuddle him now. Or else, he'll gonna be cranky and fussy. He just loves you so much and he knows you love as well, so why do you do this? Just let him love you completely and wholly.

[vague-song-quotes]

let's just pretend that nothing's broken

[jacesbeloved]

amidst the waves: special part

summary: born a lowborn, your family a group of fishermen that supply the market; one day, it wasn't a fish caught but rather, a young man.

pairing: lucerys velaryon x fem!reader

notes: heree’s a special gift in the name of hotd s2 !! had this in the drafts for so long and just finished it after the first ep as a warm up for the fics to come :D i hope u guys enjoy

part: I, II, III, special

You had hoped for a nicer sea.

Inside of a sturdy wooden fishing boat, situated in the middle of the waters, all the while rain was pouring down on you, the waves wasn't cooperating as well.

Your hair was tied into a knot, absolutely drenched from the rainwater, as you desperately tried to help Alaine tie the net inside of your boat. Some of the sea creatures you've captured managed to jump back out because of the chaos inside of the boat.

"Are we not heading back!?" Alaine yelled, hands clutching the sides of the boat as the waves rocked the both of you.

"What do you think I'm doing!?" You moved the oars aggressively. Alaine groaned before joining you in rowing the boat.

Your hair strands stuck to your forehead by the time you arrived at a part of the sea where the storm had calmed down. Only a light shower of rain droplets fell on the both of you.

Alaine wiped her forehead tiredly, resting her head on her hands while you continued rowing. Desperate to head back home and escape any possible storm that may follow your boat.

Something seemed to feel wrong; like you were forgetting, neglecting something.

You sneaked your eyes to the side, a second before you sharply turned towards your sister's direction. Her skin was pale, body shivering.

"Alaine? Alaine!" You pulled off the extra piece of clothing around your neck and proceeded to place it around your sister. "Hey? Stay with me, okay? I'll bring us back." You whisper on her forehead and she weakly nods.

A sigh leaves your lips, forgetting the ache in your arms as you started to row continuously without any break.

It took the both of you an hour at most; your arms were practically crying and shaking. The fear and nervousness inside of you growing whenever you glance at your sister still trembling in your scarf.

The familiar shore reappears in your sight, even though it was still far away, you felt a bit relieved seeing it.

There was no one by the shore when you got closer. Your hut's door closed shut and you couldn't see any movement from inside of the open windows. You gently grabbed your sister's head, whispering her name on her head as you tried to wake her up.

"We're here, Alaine. Please stay for me," you spoke, rubbing her head as you started screaming your brother's name. "Arrel! Where are you! We need you, now!"

By your first scream, there wasn't anyone that came out to help bring you fully to the shore. You screamed Arrel's name again, this time even louder which caused Alaine to groan.

You apologized softly, pulling back the oars and rowing.

Someone yells your name, at first you thought it was Arrel but it wasn't.

There was another figure right beside your brother's. A figure that seemed taller, a little bit bulkier, and certainly more layered. The figure had a unique coat on, a luxurious one.

Your eyes go wide when the two of them run to your boat, pulling the front to the shore as your body freezes on the spot.

It's Luke.

Or, to be correct, Prince Lucerys.

"What happened to her, Y/N?" he asks out with concern, rushing to pull off the coat he was wearing and place it on top of your sister.

You weren't sure what to tell him; do you just answer and act normal as if there wasn't anything that went on between the two of you three years ago? Or do you ignore him, throw a tantrum, reject his offer of a helping hand?

"Y/N! What happened to her?!" You were snapped back to reality when Arrel was the one that asked you. Your eyes blinking erratically as you stammered through your words, telling them that it seemed Alaine caught a cold because of the rain.

"We have to bring her to the hut. Arrel, get some new clothes for her, the ones I bought, those are comfortable and warm enough for her." Luke instructs, your brother nodding as he runs off.

"What- Arrel! Help me bring Alaine there what are you doing!"

Luke sighs, obvious to him that you were ignoring him.

He grabs hold of Alaine's arm, helping her up with his hand on her hips. Despite not wanting to, you grabbed the other arm and proceeded to help your sister out of the boat. Choosing to set aside your pride for now.

"You should run inside. You're drenched! I will carry her." Luke says, stopping for a moment.

"No!" You yelled.

Luke huffs, rolling his eyes as he nods.

By the time you got to the hut, you had quickly finished dressing Alaine in a new set of clothes from her wardrobe, not taking the ones Arrel was handing you that were from Lucerys.

Arrel had brought in a pot with cold water, and you grabbed a towel and submerged it in cold water before folding it to place on top of Alaine's forehead. The younger woman was still shivering, even though her forehead was hot.

"Here," Luke joins, entering the open room with some liquid inside of a small cup.

You looked at him, confused. "This," he says, raising the cup. "It's tea. We can use it to make her sweat and get the cold out. We have to get the heat out of her body."

"I know how to treat a cold, Luke," you grumbled. Arrel is looking at you with an "are you serious" look. Another sigh leaves your lips. Arrel rolls his eyes and takes the tea from Luke.

You held the back of your sister's head up, helping Arrel and Luke as they tried to make her drink it. Making sure that none of the hot liquid falls on her. Alaine coughs loudly, grimacing at the taste.

When the two males get her to drink it all, you set her back down and wrap a blanket over her body. Letting her rest and sleep.

Hours passed by in such an awkward atmosphere. You were seating on the seat by the kitchen, quietly cutting an apple as Arrel assorted today's catch into different tubs. Luke was out for a bit, unclear to you what he was doing but all that you remembered was him borrowing a piece of parchment and some ink. After that, he stayed inside of the living room, right across from the open kitchen with Arrel in the middle.

Your youngest sibling suddenly stands up, informing you that he'll be taking them to the market and that he left some to cook for later.

"W-what, you're leaving now?" You stammered, eyes flicking over to Luke before snapping back to Arrel.

"Yes. I have to get these to the market. I have to buy some herbs and other food as well, some you can use for our dinner with Luke later-"

"I appreciate the thought, Arrel, but there is need not of an extra dinner. I can leave before dinner if needed-" It was Luke's turn to speak now.

Your lips go dry, Luke gulping, Arrel staring at the both of you weirdly.

Taking none of yours statements into account, he leaves the hut. Ignoring your empty threat.

That is why here you both were. Sitting in silence, not a word spoken, no stories of what happened in the other's life for the past years.

You lean back a bit, catching a glimpse of the sun setting so you stand up. Rubbing your hands on your hips. "I'll start cooking."

Luke was quick to stand as well, following your footsteps to the kitchen. "I can- I'll help!"

"No need. Sit."

"Nonsense. I used to cook for your family all the time." He says with a chuckle, an attempt in lightening up the atmosphere. "Used to, Luke. I'm sure your maids and cooks cook for you now, of course you'd forget how to grill and cook."

He grabs the small pail filled with fish, running outside and away from you.

Being the person that you are, you ran after him. Dashing out of the door while screaming his name, glaring at him. A smile draws on his lips as he runs near the shore, the weight of his clothes evidently wearing him down.

You shove him hard, gripping the padded shoulder of his shirt when you catch onto him. Luke laughs at that, acting as if he was getting hurt with each time you smacked his shoulder.

"Give me it; I'll cook," you demanded.

He calms down a bit, sealing his lips as he thinks for a second. Eventually, he hands you the pail with a small grin. "As long as you'll let me help."

Your eyes narrowed at him, and he walked away without a word. Luke catches up to you with no problem and sets out to walk beside you with his hands behind his back.

"I missed you, you know," he said. The sudden statement surprised you, a faint red hue threatening to show on your cheeks.

"I wrote to you many times," and you started to feel a bit apologetic. Remembering the times when a random raven flies to your hut, having a letter with Luke's signature? Speaking about how being with his family was weird but great,. He was still weird even after months, but he grew back into his family. Though he also missed staying in the hut, in his own little tent, grilling seafood at night for dinner.

"I didn't know you did," you lied.

You hear him scoff a bit: "I found my letters underneath your bed; Y/N. Arrel showed them to me."

And there it is. The nerve to apologize after being caught.

"I assume you have your reasons, and I respect that." He cuts off your train of thoughts, already assuring you when he sees the guilt strike your face.

"Forgive me," you said. "There is nothing to forgive, Y/N. I understand that we did not really leave each other on a good foot." He spoke with some sense of maturity, different from the one he already had way back.

You nod, pursing your lips.

The two of you remained silent, him watching as you prepped the fish, expertly using your knife quick and clean.

"So what brought you back here?" It was your turn to speak, opening up a conversation.

"I told you." He smiles at you. "I missed you."

You look away from him, acting as if you were looking for something, just to avoid him seeing your cheeks. The sun was still setting, and he would still be able to see the rosy stains on your cheeks from his reply.

"And the sea," he laughed, pointing at the waters. You laughed with him, and although it was forced, you tried your best not to. "Of course, the sea."

The rest of the conversation passed by awfully comfortably. It was like two childhood friends catching up about what happened in their lives. Loud laughs and playful remarks thrown here and there whenever one joked about something.

Arrel arrived, not really interrupting them when he did. Just simply walking inside the hut silently carrying some other already cooked food.

You remember one simple question that you had—something that was lingering in your head for the whole day ever since you saw him today. "What is it, my lady?"

"So, uh, how is life betrothed?" The response you got caught you off-guard.

Luke laughed. He laughed. Loudly. Not just a simple laugh; no, he was laughing hard.

You got thrown off by that, shaking your head and looking away. Focusing down on what you were cooking over the fire, as you just chose not to push on it. When he laughs at your name, you scowl. "What?!"

"Y/N-"

A loud roar cuts you both off, and your heart almost falls out of your ribcage when you see two big dragons flying in your direction. Your hand immediately comes over to grip Luke's arm, squeezing it as you point at the two creatures with fear on your face.

Compared to the pure fright on your face, Luke's face had relaxed as he recognized the two dragons despite the dark skies.

Both dragons flew above them, circling their little vicinity before the two dragons disappear for a few moments. Taking deep breaths, you slowly released your hold on his arm. A small smile appeared on his face as you went back to the clay pot hanging over the fire as if nothing had happened.

He followed you to your spot, ghosting over the fire as he watched you in silence. I watched the way your forehead creased in concentration, but the nibbling on your lips told him you were still irritated.

"I do not have a betrothed, my lady," he says the answer that was interrupted before.

"Rest her soul."

Luke shakes his head, "She is not dead. The betrothal was called off a few days after I returned."

"Oh!" you sigh, biting the inside of your cheek awkwardly at the piece of information. You didn't necessarily know what to do with the information but it certainly did lift a lot of weight off of your chest. "That is... unfortunate."

"Incredibly unfortunate," Luke echoes in the most monotone voice you ever heard. A deadpan look on his face.

You were about to take notice on that response of his when three figures appear behind him. I am walking towards the both of you. Luke, looking back as well, turns again to you but now with a genuine smile.

When they come closer, your breath hitches. It's Queen Rhaenyra with Prince Jacaerys and Joffrey.

"Your grace," you say, taking a knee and bowing to them. Luke glances at you as he does a shallow curtsy himself before he stretches his arms to hug his family.

"It is our honor to meet you, Lady Y/N. You are my son's savior," Rhaenyra reaches to shake your hand, a look of genuineness on her eyes. Jace and Joffrey reach as well, each taking turns saying their greetings.

"You praise me, your grace. I simply did what any normal person would do. It is more surprising and commendable that Prince Luke—" you pause, "Lucerys—managed to live through our impoverished, penniless—"

"Y/N." Luke stops you there, holding your arm with a frown. "You should not bring your family down. You guys have been more than welcoming and accommodating for me."

"I agree with Luke. It is us that are in debt to your hospitality. Without you, I do not think our family could have been complete again." Jace cuts in with a solemn smile.

Rhaenyra comes forward, glancing at your family's hut. "Oh, my parents are yet to come back from the town. My brother, Arrel, is also in the market for dinner—perfect!"

"I had just remembered. I will be able to cook a bigger dinner once he arrives."

"There is no need, dear. We have come here to express our gratitude for your hospitality to my son," Rhaenyra says softly. "May we?" You nod eagerly, opening the front door of your hut to welcome the unexpected family.

Luke tends to Alaine first, covering her with the curtain to provide her with some privacy as she is sleeping, before he happily accompanies his own brothers. Even telling Joffrey to start fanning the pit of fire while Jace skewered the fish. You and his mother having a cup of tea inside.

"You are all fishermen?"

You nod, "My mother and father deliver these seafood to King's Landing on occasion, which is why only us three are left here."

Rhaenyra hums, looking around. "Luke has told us all about this. According to him, he learned a lot more lessons on livelihood here than in King's Landing."

The two of you share laughters at that. "My apologies, your grace. My family—I included them—had not known of Luke—Prince Lucery's status so we had treated him as normal as we would any other person."

"There is no need to call him with such formalities. I am aware of the relationship you both share," Rhaenyra replies and you look at her awkwardly.

What even is this relationship that she speaks of? You weren't quite sure.

"There is no need to feel troubled, Y/N. If my son has yet to tell you, his—"

"Betrothal was called off," You finish for her. The Queen sends you a knowing look as she nods. The two of you comfortably sitting in silence.

A gasp disrupts the silence, "Oh my, your grace," Alaine's head falls to bow. Gulping as she looks at you with major confusion. You shrug discreetly, not knowing how to reply.

"This is Alaine. Our middle-born." Alaine does a curtsy with nervousness before Luke's call from outside echoes inside. "Mother! Y/N! Dinner is ready. Arrel has arrived back as well!" Luke yells from outside.

The three of them head back out to reveal the four boys getting along with each other. Arrel, despite being younger than the other three, is tallest and is the one ordering them around. They were fixing the plates and preparing the cooked meat.

Alaine had already run to the food as soon as she came out. You and Rhaenyra... still chatted.

"I know my son's attachment is heavy but I tell you this as a mother: all I want for Luke is happiness. He is to rule Driftmark after his grandfather. I figure it will be an incredibly burden, not to discredit your or..."

"Your grace, I do not know."

"Mother," Luke calls. The two of you turning to him. "You shan't pressure Y/N. Let us have supper."

Rhaenyra squeezes your hand as she sighs, nodding while pulling the both of you to where they were eating.

It was a rowdier but definitely cozier supper. Laughters and stories both from the sea and the castle were shared as if there weren't a barrier between their status—because to them, there weren't.

Luke was right beside you throughout supper. Comfortably jesting with your siblings and his. It was all too casual.

The two of you share a look at that moment, eyes staring longingly at each other. A smile comes onto your lips when you feel his hand slowly and softly creeping into your free hand. You glance at his hand, then at his face.

He's smiling at you. One that pulls at your heart again, just like before. Only this time, he's sure he won't be leaving you any time soon.

[novaursa]

a reader Velaryon was caught having an affair with her uncle Dareon Targaryen through letters and encounters. something that his mother or his brothers did not like very much She was locked in her chambers and then forced to marry her brother Jaracerys. After Lucerys almost died in Storm's Bastion if it weren't for the intervention of Reader who gave him a chance to escape. rader callus cold with fiber One day at dusk Dareon contacted one of Reader's maids who was still at his service after they had changed all the maids when they found out about the secret relationship they had. He asked her to help him get into Dragon Rock. He missed her after they locked her up and forced her to marry Jacaerys. He couldn't see her now. He knew she was sick. She needed him. the maid helped him She would wait outside in case someone came. They were scared to see Reader there alone in that bed, so weak, so fragile, consumed by fever when she touched her hands. She may have been delirious, but she whispered his name. She called him because she missed him. Then he heard the door open and turned around to see the maid being pointed at by Jacaerys's sword. jacaerys dareon stay away from my wife now could you write something like this please

Fevered Desires

- Summary: After you are stricken with fever in wake of saving your brother’s life above the Storm's End, you get an unexpected visitor.

- Paring: niece!reader/Daeron Targaryen

- Note: I hope this is what you had in mind. I've left in this only important information you've provided that can carry the scene in 1000 words and make it believable.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The faint sound of footsteps stirs in the halls of Dragonstone, though none but the most careful listener would hear them. The storm outside rages on, rain pelting against the stone walls, and the roar of the waves crashing below echoes faintly into the castle. You lie beneath heavy blankets, too fevered to notice much of the world around you. Sleep grips you tightly, yet it offers no solace, no respite from the heat that has settled deep within your bones. Sweat beads along your brow, dampening the pillows beneath your head. In your delirium, the fever carries you elsewhere, to memories and whispers that blur together like a forgotten dream.

A gentle touch brushes against your burning cheek. A familiar warmth lingers in the air, a presence you would know even in your sleep. You stir slightly, your lips parting to murmur his name. 

"Daeron..." The word is soft, barely more than a breath, but the sound is enough to reach his ears. His hand stills upon your face, his heart hammering beneath the layers of his cloak. In the dim light of your chambers, Daeron Targaryen stands over you, the hood of his cloak pulled low to shield his features. He shouldn't be here—he knows it, you know it—but he couldn't stay away. Not from you. Not when he heard of your fever, the illness that ravaged your body after the storm that nearly cost you your life. 

For a long moment, he simply watches you. Even in sickness, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, though the sight of your pallor stirs a sharp pain in his chest. His fingers linger against your skin, as if hoping his touch alone could soothe the fever. His heart aches at the thought of you in such agony, but his presence here, in your chambers, is dangerous—more dangerous than he could have ever anticipated.

The door creaks open behind him, and Daeron's hand falls away from your cheek, his gaze hardening as he turns to face the intruder. Jacaerys Velaryon stands in the doorway, sword drawn, his expression a mixture of fury and disbelief. 

"Stay away from her," Jacaerys growls, his voice low but edged with the sharpness of a blade. He steps forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as if ready to strike. His eyes are cold, dangerous, like the sea in the midst of a storm. "She is my wife."

Daeron's lips curve into a bitter smile, a cold, knowing smile. He straightens, turning slowly to face his nephew. "Your wife?" he repeats, his voice soft but dangerous. "She was mine long before she was yours."

The words hang in the air, sharp and heavy. Jacaerys' eyes narrow, and for a moment, it seems as though violence is inevitable. The tension between them hums like a tightly drawn bowstring, ready to snap. But before either can move, you stir again, your fevered body shifting beneath the blankets.

Your eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, but then they settle on Daeron. His face, half-shadowed by the dim light of the room, softens as he looks down at you. His hand, warm and familiar, is wrapped around yours, the rough calluses of his palm a stark contrast to your fevered skin. 

"Daeron..." you whisper again, confusion and longing tangled in your voice. Your mind is clouded, your body weak, but the sight of him brings a surge of something—something you can’t name but have always felt. 

"Shh," Daeron murmurs, his voice suddenly tender, as though the world beyond the two of you has ceased to exist. His fingers tighten slightly around yours, a silent promise, an unspoken vow that transcends the walls of Dragonstone, the blood that binds and divides you.

Jacaerys watches, his jaw clenched, his grip on his sword faltering for a moment as he sees the way you look at Daeron. He’s seen it before, but now, now it feels like a knife twisting in his chest. "You don’t belong here," he snaps, stepping forward. His gaze flickers to you, then back to Daeron. "She’s not yours anymore."

Daeron’s eyes flash, cold and sharp. "Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?" His voice is low, biting. "Do you think a few vows and a marriage bed can erase what we had? What we still have?"

Jacaerys’ face hardens, but before he can respond, a weak cough escapes your lips, your body trembling beneath the weight of the fever. Both men turn toward you, but it is Daeron who reaches you first, his hand brushing a strand of damp hair from your forehead.

"She needs rest," Daeron says quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. His thumb gently strokes the back of your hand. "Not your anger. Not your sword."

For a moment, there is only silence. Then Jacaerys lowers his blade, though the fury in his eyes remains. "You have no right," he says, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "You lost that the moment we found your letters."

Daeron’s jaw tightens. "I lost nothing," he says, his voice firm. He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture so soft, so tender, it feels like a secret meant only for the two of you. "I will never lose her."

You stir again, your hand gripping his weakly, and Daeron glances down at you. "Rest now, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice like a balm. "I’m here."

Jacaerys stands there, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained fury, but in that moment, he knows he cannot banish Daeron. Not while you are like this. Not while the fever clings to you, making you vulnerable, fragile. But the storm within him is far from over, and as he steps back toward the door, he glances over his shoulder. 

"Don’t think this is finished, Daeron," Jacaerys warns, his voice low and dark. "I’ll make sure of it."

Daeron doesn’t look at him. His focus is entirely on you, his hand never leaving yours. "Do what you will," he says quietly, "but I will always come back for her."

[astraystayyh]

this is a brainrot induced by the lovely @lino-nyangi saying that hyunjin would draw your henna for you ;-;-; this is also for all my homesick people because hyunjin would SO make efforts to understand ur culture and love u better. enjoy reading and happy eid again hehe <3

homesickness is a ruthless guest.

it comes at announced times, suddenly barging into your house and tearing away the warmth you’ve painstakingly guarded, worn hands and battered palms— bleeding wounds that can only be healed at home.

it leaves you dazed in its wake, surrounded by barren walls and a bed that doesn’t feel like your own, adrift in an endless sea, with no shore in sight.

its presence looms heavier during holidays, when visions of what could have been dance tantalizingly before your eyes—you amidst laughter and chatter that speaks to your inner child. but instead, you are consumed by a terrible ache, bones longing for an unattainable home and its traditions.

these are the thoughts hyunjin finds you drowning in, head buried deep into your pillow in a futile attempt to disappear completely— you hope the universe would mistake you for an inanimate object and pass your sadness to an unsuspecting soul.

your boyfriend just got out of his shower, late into the night, droplets of water running down his neck, tracing the contours of his bluish veins. a cloud of vanilla and wood follows him around as he walks over to your bed, clad in a plain white shirt and a pair of black shorts. your favorite.

“hi,” he grins and the weight in your heart dissolves a bit before the sun.

“hey baby—” your words are cut off as he slides his arms underneath your legs, effortlessly picking you up bridal style.

“what are you doing?” you giggle, entwining your hands behind his neck, a gesture as natural as a waterfall current.

“carrying my princess.”

“and where to?”

“you’ll see,” he smiles secretly as he pushes open the door to his art studio. his body shields your view of the inside, not that you dare look anywhere but his angelic face— you are but a captive to the softening of his eyes, filled with unspoken adoration, for you.

he brushes the faintest kiss against your forehead, before lowering you to the ground, stepping aside quietly.

“what’s this?” you ask bewildered, as your eyes take in the new addition to his studio— a small white table with two tiny chairs on opposite sides of it, and on its surface, cinnamon candles and rose petals. but your eyes remain elsewhere, drawn to the sight of a syringe and near it, a very familiar henna paste.

“i knew you were bummed because you wouldn’t be able to put on henna,” he inches closer to you, placing his chin on the small of your shoulder. “so, i practiced.”

the breath refuses to escape your lungs, your response materializing into ropes wrapping around your throat. your next question is tinted with a child-like curiosity, but you must hear the answer stumbling from his lips.

“for me?” you say. you made time, for me? he hears.

“of course, i’d do anything for you,” he says earnestly, simply, placing a small kiss on your erratic pulse, the one that’s right beneath your jaw. your heart stops then resumes its course— it does not wish to part from your body and leave hyunjin behind.

“so,” he clears his throat, pulling you gently to your seat. “i had to do extensive research. i kept looking up designs but everything looked so cute so i asked your mom which one you’d love best.”

he lights up the candles one by one. their warmth finds a singular home within your cold soul.

“and i couldn’t let you know i was doing this, so i kept going to chan’s dorm to practice,” he fills up the syringe naturally, squeezing a bit of henna into a napkin to test it out.

“but then i needed a real life model,” he grabs your hand gently, placing it atop his warm, large palm. “so, i convinced changbin to model for me. and i had to give up terrible terrible things to get him to agree,” he whispers in horror, and you giggle, your laughter winning before your tears.

“he actually really liked it,” he smiles softly, his eyes never parting from your hand, “so i kept trying other designs on all the boys. they just wiped them quickly after so it wouldn’t stain,” he explains and you feel the knot in your throat tighten even more— it twists and twists and with it so does your heart.

it’s quiet after that, as hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together in utter concentration, as though tasked with protecting a fragile vase amidst a terrible earthquake.

he’s a vision of love as he draws delicate flower patterns on the canvas of your hand. as his tongue peeks out to press against his cheek in concentration, making sure every petal is perfectly crafted.

he’s a vision of home as his brows furrow into that distinctive expression of disdain he reserves for everything that falls short of his standards. his eyes are apologetic as they flee to yours before he quickly wipes away the design, starting over yet again.

hyunjin did not intuitively fit into your culture. he wasn’t a pair of gloves perfectly stitched after your fingers and everything they carried from back home.

but he has always tried to understand— when he scoured the city to find the best restaurant serving your native cuisine, when he spoke sentences in your language that he learned in secret. and although his tongue breaks, he tries, again and again, to understand, to get closer to you, to bridge gaps created by a past he did not exist in, so he’d know you better in a future he chose to love.

“do you like it?” he asks, and it is the nervous look on his face that breaks you— the way he fiddles with his lower lip, cheeks coated in pink, head tilting slightly to press against his shoulder blade.

your tears fall like a torrent as your free hand cradles his face, the kiss is salty as you move your lips against his own. “thank you, my angel. you are my home.”

he’d ask you again if you liked it, when he’s done drying your tears, skillfully mending the fractures in your heart. you’d say yes as your eyes take in the intricate flowers, the sheer artistry that can only spill from a soul as talented as his own.

you’ll like it more the next morning when you’ll wake up to a disheveled hyunjin, eyes puffy chasing away a clinging sleep to inspect your henna and see if it remained intact. you’ll love it when his lips will brush delicately against your palm, imprinting kisses across every inch of your tatted skin.

you’ll love it even more when he’ll draw your henna the night of your wedding, skillfully hiding his initials within the scattered petals, the very way you carry his name eternally within the chambers of your heart.

[hazzyking]

Hey kids! So you know that part 2 I'm supposed to be working on? Yeah this isn't it. But you'll still enjoy it! Lmao I'm sorry I suck at everything.

POV: You and Buggy get into a heated fight. You say something you didn't mean about his nose, so he's sleeping below deck with the crew, and you're alone in the captains quarters, and you can't sleep.

Apologize

It was one of those nights at almost 3am when your mind was racing. All you wanted was the sweet relief of sleep but your brain was running to fast. You groaned and threw the sheets to the side as you reluctantly got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. You shivered as the wind of the seas prickled your skin, your hands smoothed over the bumps and you quickly ran into the kitchen, shutting the door behind you finally feeling warmth. you quietly opened the cabinets and got yourself a mug and started brewing your favorite hot beverage, sighing in relief that no one has woken up yet, you peered out of the galley window looking up at the twinkling stars shining in the clear navy blue sky. Your nose was tickled by the smell of your beverage and your lips curled into a smile as you hummed softly, but you were violently torn from your thoughts when you heard the creek of the wood floor in the kitchen and a Familiar voice mutter "fuck"

"Hey" you said casually, turning around to lean against the counter looking at the clown infront of you. 

"H-hey. Sorry- I didn't mean to wake you" Buggy spoke nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. You giggle softly viewing his casual appearance infront of you, just a t-shirt and sweat pants. And smudged clown makeup. 

"You know if you never take that paint off your gonna get acne" you mumbled fixing your drink. 

"No one would notice with this big nose anyway" Buggy responded muttering as he opened the cabinets and pulled out a box of cereal. 

"I still think you should take care of your skin" you look at him with gentle eyes. 

"It seems like I don't really care what you think" Buggy responded, taking a handful of cereal from the box and stuffing his face with it. 

"I could help you-" you said, setting your mug down and approaching him. 

"If I said yes would you drop it?" Buggy asked. 

"Yes. Captain" you said, biting down on your lip. 

"Hm," Buggy hummed to himself pulling you close to him, with his hands around your waist. 

"I thought you were still mad at me?" You asked in a gaspy tone. 

"I can never stay mad at you" Buggy said, his groggy features turning into a smirk as he lifted you up and placed you on the counter with a plop. You giggled at his actions as his hand snaked between your legs as you spread them so he could slide in between you, he scooped you up under your ass pulling you close to him, you felt his cock rub against your thigh and you shivered. "I miss you" Buggy groaned in your ear as his lips placed butterfly kisses on the soft skin of your neck. You cooked your neck to the side giving him more ground to cover, he hummed as he continued to bite and suck on your neck, his hand moving up to grasp your brest and encourage your nipples over the thin fabric of your pajamas. Breathy moans escaped your mouth, he didn't even give you a chance to speak, his tounge and teeth roaming between your neck and coller bone, his thumb and index finger rolling your nipple while his other hand snaked under your pajamas and squeezed your ass. You gasped at his tight grip and he chuckled darkly, his hand let go of your nipple as he slid the straps off your shoulders, you shimmied your top half out of your shirt revealing your brests Buggy licked his lips hungerly as his mouth slowly made its way to your nipple, latching onto it and sucking and biting gently. You knocked your head back against the cabinet moaning at the sensation, your legs tightened around his waist as his mouth trailed lower and lower, until he was on his knees and pulling you over the counter so his tounge can meet your entrance. 

"Oh god~" you gasped out, nestling on top of his face, he moaned as licked up your juices that were slowly forming from his actions, his mouth latched to your clit as he sucked desperately for a reaction, your hand quickly gripped his messy blue hair as he sucked your clit and his fingers slowly siccorsing your entrance, you whined trying so hard not to be too loud. Buggy's blue eyes looked up at your bright red face as you panted at his actions. He smirked against your skin placing soft kisses at your inner thigh, his fingers still urging you to come. As your moans got louder, Buggy had no choice but to detach one of hands and use it to cover your mouth. You yelp as the hand squeases your face. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as his fingers and tounge drive you closer and closer to the edge. You eventually meet your orgasm. You feel like your screaming as your hand pull at his hair and your legs tighten around his face. Buggy would gladly die in between your legs, he pulls away from you, his hand wiping his face as he stands up and kisses you passionately. Your ready for round two in your shared bedroom, but he kisses you on the forehead and mutters "goodnight" against your skin, taking the box of cereal with him as he walked back below deck to sleep.