#(I’ve read the light novels and I’m so excited))

[huntermorgan]

I consider this bookstore trip a SUCCESS

No more pirating unfinished fan translations off the internet!

#chuuya nakahara #chuuya supremacy #stormbringer #light novel #Bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #I’ve waited so long for this #I read part of it on the internet but couldn’t find a finished version #i’m so excited #chuuya kinnie #I love chuuya so much

[nerd-izzy-art]

Overlord Season 4 started!

#art #fanart #overlord #ainz ooal gown #lord ainz #(I’ve read the light novels and I’m so excited)) #((I can’t wait for the dwarven kingdom arc)) #((I have a few nitpicks after watching the first ep but that might just be me)) #((I also wish the Ainzach scene was a little more in depth but I understand why they didn’t do that)) #((the one thing I can not stand however is the sorcerer king label it should be the King of Darkness))

[tkingfisher]

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

[thefallennightmare]

One Night: Noah's POV-four[END]

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Noah's POV of his one night with Reader.

Authors Note: OMG IM CRYING! I cannot believe this is the end to the very first Noah fic I wrote! I know it's supposed to be in Noah's POV but I had to throw in the readers pov a few times.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ/COMMENTED. MEANS SO MUCH.

NOW ENJOY THIS CHAPTER FILLED WITH STRAIGHT FLUFFY FILTH.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans @spicywhenspeaking @myownthoughts12

NOAH

Turning over in my bunk with a sigh, I reached for the warm body that usually would be there but touched cold, empty space. I raised my head from the pillow, half-lidded eyes searching for her then looked at the time on my phone. 

2:32 a.m. 

Running my hand over my tired face, I rolled out of my bunk with a groan as my long limbs stretched. Almost three weeks into the tour my body was screaming at me to sleep in an actual bed rather than the small bunk that before would barely fit me. However, with Y/N on the road with me, it was a tight squeeze for both of us. The first night, she offered to sleep in her own bunk so I could have as much space as I could but immediately I declined. I wanted her to be as close to me as possible. While none of us said it, both of us were worried about what would happen to our relationship when this tour ended. Although we both agreed to work on it even though we lived in different states; we would put in the same amount of effort. 

Craning my neck to the side, bones popping, I walked to the front area of the bus, knowing exactly where she was and what she was doing. Y/N sat on one of the couches with her legs crossed, laptop perched in her lap. The lights were off, only a blue light emanating from her screen illuminated her face; glasses resting on her nose. She wore my yellow hoodie, her drowning in it as the skin of her legs peaked through the bottom of it. I hummed to myself at the sight, enjoying how she looked. This was the first time in weeks that I saw her wearing glasses. 

“Angel,” I muttered quietly while rubbing my bare chest. “Do you know what time it is?” 

She glanced up at me with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I know I said I was coming to bed like three hours ago but I got a surge of inspiration. I only meant to write for a little bit but before I knew it, I finished two chapters.” 

I fell onto the couch next to her and left a soft kiss on the side of her head. “How’s the book coming?” 

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t expect it to be so easy to write a novel while traveling. I thought with all the excitement of tour life, I wouldn’t be able to find time to write but it's been the opposite of that.” 

I hummed. “Well, it helps that you’re writing about our night together.” 

Y/N shifted next to me. “Does that bother you?” 

I raised a brow at her. “Why would it?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I only want to make sure you’re comfortable with it. I didn’t use our names and I created two different characters. But everything else is the same as what happened that night. I mean, the guy is a rockstar and kind of resembles you. Maybe I should scrap the idea.” 

Y/N was rambling on and I knew what this was; she was beginning to doubt her novel, something she did a few times now while with me. 

“Hey.” I lifted her chin so I could force her to look at me. “Stop doubting yourself, alright? I’ve read what you have so far and it’s amazing, angel. I don’t care that you’re using something that happened between us. It inspired you to write a book, use that. Create a world from that one night.” 

She bit her bottom lip and I internally groaned at the sight of her; glasses and wearing my sweater. Truly in this darkness of the bus as it moved along to our next destination, Y/N looked like an angel. 

“Thank you for supporting me, Noah. I know we haven’t been together long but your support means a lot to me.” 

I left a chaste kiss on her lips and then on her nose. “I’ll always support you. Even if you start writing fanfiction about me.” 

“You know,” she started while going back to typing away on her laptop. “It’s kind of cool that it doesn't bother you that people write about you.” 

I shrugged. “It was weird seeing it at first but I realized it helps people escape the reality world for a bit to create this entire universe, all because of our band. It’s pretty special if you think about it.” 

We sat in silence for a little while as I lounged next to her, watching her fingers type furiously against the keys of her laptop. My gaze flicked upwards at her face, drinking in the sight of her and my heart pounded hard against my chest. I was afraid she could hear it. 

“You’re staring,” she muttered with a smile, not taking her eyes off the screen. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” 

“Oh, these old things,” Y/N adjusted them on her nose. “I don’t usually but I think I’ve been staring at my screen too much because my eyes have been feeling a bit strained.”

“You look cute,” I mused while resting my head against her shoulder and peering down at her laptop again, stifling a yawn behind my hand. 

Y/N brushed her lips over my forehead. “You should go back to sleep, Noah. It was a long night and you’ve got a big day later.” 

Our show tonight was filled with problem after problem it seemed. My voice wasn’t up to par, even though everyone reassured me I sounded fine. Our tech wasn’t working which made things incredibly hard for Matt. Then not to mention the constant fights happening in the crowd tonight. We were all so upset that we ended up skipping two songs tonight only because having to stop the show a few different times for the tech issues and fights, the time we were allowed to play was stretched thin. 

Later today, we were taking a break from our normal tour schedule to play a festival in Missouri. But before that, I had two solo interviews and one with the guys lined up before our set. 

“Only if you come with me,” I poked Y/N’s side before looking up at her through my lashes.

“Alright,” she sighed with a playful roll of her eyes. 

As she began clicking out of her tabs, one immediately caught my attention and I placed my hand over hers to stop her. 

“Inspiration, huh?” I smirked and pointed to the picture on the screen. 

Her cheeks flushed red and Y/N pursed her lips. “Can you blame me? You look fucking hot in that mask.” 

On her screen was a picture of me sporting a Bad Omens sweater and a yellow mask. 

A low noise rumbled in my throat as I gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her bright eyes shined in the darkness and my heart stopped in my chest. 

“Do you want me to wear the yellow one, angel?” 

Y/N swallowed thickly before slowly nodding. “Please.”

My cock twitched in my joggers at hearing her beg. We had a quick fuck in the bathroom of the green room before the show but it wasn't enough. I wanted to be able to taste her on my lips later today. 

I peered over her shoulder to the front of the bus, noticing the door that led to where Jake, our driver, was shut. Then I looked over my own shoulder to see if anyone was up, moving around in the back. 

All clear. 

I then took her laptop from her, setting it on the kitchenette table behind me, and motioned for her to lie back. 

“Noah,” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she shook her head. “What if someone hears us?” 

I gently pushed her to lie down on the couch. “Then you’ll have to be quiet, angel.” 

Adjusting myself so I was kneeling on the couch in front of her, I slid my fingers underneath the bottom of her sweater; my sweater. When I continued to touch her skin and not the fabric of her shorts, I raised a brow. 

“Were you sitting out here in nothing but my sweater, Y/N?” My voice was low. 

She grinned. “I have panties on.”

I hooked fingers in the waistband of said panties and slowly slid them down her legs until they hung around her ankle. I spread her wider for me, mouth salivating at the sight of her slickness, with one leg up against the back of the couch and the other foot perched on the floor. 

“Noah,” she whined while arching her back. 

My tongue rolled over my bottom lip. “Can you be quiet for me, angel?” 

Y/N quickly nodded before going to take off her sweater. 

“No,” I held her hand. “Leave my sweater on. You look heavenly in yellow.” 

With a flick of my tongue, I licked up her arousal with a hum of delight. She always tasted so fucking good. Y/N had her own specific taste and scent, and it drove me absolutely mad. My teeth grazed over her sensitive clit and the noises that fell from her lips made my cock throb. 

Her nails raked through my hair, scraping along my scalp, and I shivered under her touch. I sucked hard on her clit, earning a loud moan from Y/N, so I smacked the inside of her thigh. 

“Shit, Noah,” she hissed in pleasure when I slipped one finger between her folds. 

I pumped in and out of her in fast strokes as my tongue flicked over his clit, then added another finger, spearing the two inside of her. 

“Fuck!” Y/N panted as she gripped my hair tighter. “Shit. ‘M so close.” 

“Cum for me, angel,” I ordered, removing my lips from her only for a second then went back to tasting her arousal. 

Her body shook underneath me as she screamed out her release and I reached up, smacking a hand over her mouth. Her cries were now muffled as I licked her through the aftershocks. 

“Good girl,” I praised while leaving a gentle kiss on the inside of her thigh. 

I helped Y/N to a sitting position and wrapped my hand around the back of her head, pulling her into a heated kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself on my tongue and folded into me, hands resting on my chest. 

“I’m so sleepy now,” Y/N sighed while adjusting the glasses on her nose. 

“Let's go to sleep, angel.” I reached for his discarded panties and pocketed them. 

“Hey!” 

She tried to reach for them but I threw her over my shoulder as I stood to my feet. Thankfully her sweater covered her bare ass as I began walking back toward our bunk. 

“You don’t need them,” I said. 

“Noah,” she giggled. “I can’t sleep without underwear.” 

Gently, I tossed her into our bunk and looked around at the others, making sure her cries of pleasure hadn’t woken anyone up. 

“I need to make sure I have all of you when I wake up,” I winked while crawling into bed with her, pulling the curtain closed tight.

“Such a perv,” Y/N joked while smacking my chest. 

I wrapped her into my embrace by lifting her leg over my hips as she rested her head against my chest. We lay there for a little while, just basking in the solace that we created ourselves. 

“Noah,” Y/N spoke quietly while running a finger over the tattoos on my chest. 

I hummed, enjoying the way she felt against me. 

“Do you honestly think my novel is good enough?” 

I shifted us a bit so I could gaze down at her with a frown pulling at my lips. However, Y/N refused to look at me. 

“Y/N, why are you doubting yourself?” I questioned. 

She was quiet for a long moment, simply dragging a finger over the tattoos on my stomach now. 

“It’s my first one. I’ve written a few things online for years but this is an actual story that's going to be published for people to buy. What if it fails?” She finished with a shaky breath. 

I rolled us over so I was peering down at her while she was on her back. Y/N’s usual bright eyes were dulled and I took off her glasses, safely setting them in the far corner of the bunk. 

“Why do you think it will fail?” I asked. 

When she tried to look away, I cupped her cheek so she couldn’t. “Don’t hide from me, angel.” 

“I-shit-,” her bottom lip quivered. “Writing is all I have, ya know? If this book fails, I don't know what I’m going to do.”

I left a soft kiss on her nose. “There’s going to be negativity with it, there's no way around that. But from what I’ve personally dealt with, you need to focus on all the positives. I don’t want to see you get in your own head, angel.” 

She nodded in my grasp. “I’m my own biggest critic. Now that I’m so close to finishing it, doubt is settling in about if it’ll be good enough. What if no publishing company wants to pick it up?” 

I brushed some hair out of her face and propped myself up on my other elbow. 

“Have you thought about self-publishing?” I suggested. 

Y/N scoffed. “I looked into it and the cheapest route is almost a grand. I don’t have that amount of money to invest in something that might fail. The cost of living in Las Vegas is killing me to begin with, I can’t put all my savings into something that might fail.” 

My lips parted to speak but she quickly pressed a finger over them, hushing me. “No, don’t. I do not need your money for this, Noah. I cannot ask you for that.”

I kissed her finger before removing it from my mouth. “I just want to take care of you, Y/N.” 

She grabbed my hand and left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I know. But I can’t ask that from you. I’ll figure it out.” 

“Well,” I tapped her nose. “Writing isn't the only thing you have. You have me and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Y/N grinned up at me. “Good because I’m not letting you go.” 

I dipped low to leave a kiss on her lips, letting my tongue slip inside to taste every inch of her mouth. Faintly I could still taste her arousal on her tongue and I groaned, rutting my hips into her. 

Y/N’s nails left red marks down my chest and stomach then she reached for my joggers, pulling at them. 

“What do you want, angel?” I asked breathless from the kiss. 

Her bottom lip jutted out and I immediately attacked it with my teeth. 

“Fuck,” she hissed while bringing her fingers to her lips, faint crimson painting them. “I’m bleeding.” 

Our lips met again in a fiery, teeth-smacking kiss, and Y/N’s hand slipped beneath my joggers, palming my hard cock. I groaned into the kiss and ground my cock against her hand as Y/N began palming it.

“Noah,” she mewled against my lips. “I need it.” 

“Use your words,” I teased while leaving a mark in the crook of her neck. 

Y/N squeezed my cock and I hissed in pleasure as my head fell to her chest. Her hand began to pump up and down then when her thumb grazed over the head, I nearly came in her hand. 

“Angel,” I breathed against her neck. “Please don’t stop.” 

She did, only briefly to help me shimmy out of my joggers then I stripped her off her sweater, eyes turning dark when I realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

Quickly I guided her hand back to my aching cock and Y/N started pumping me fast and hard. 

“Shit. Please,” I held myself up on my elbows as I gazed down at her through half-lidded eyes. “Keep going.” 

Her eyes were locked on the space between us, almost focusing on her actions. 

“I love hearing you beg,” Y/N gazed up at me, a playful smirk on her lips. 

“Don’t.” I panted. “Stop.” 

Suddenly, she was patting my hip with her free hand. “Get on your back.” 

I groaned when she stopped. “Angel-.” 

“Get on your back, Noah. Now.” 

Something burned low in my belly hearing the demanding tone in her voice so with a hastily nod, I did what she asked and watched as she climbed on top of me. It was a tight fit with the small space of the bunk and she couldn’t sit completely upright. Instead, she leaned half of her body over me as she held my cock with one hand, the other resting over my heart. 

I internally smiled at the small gesture. 

My head fell back onto the pillow when Y/N slowly inched herself down on my cock, the tightness of her walls gripping around me harder than her hand did. 

“Fuck,” she cursed. “I didn't think this through. Not much space here.” 

I grunted, wrapping an arm around her waist to lock her into place. “We need an actual fucking bed.” 

As her hips moved, a spew of curses fell from my lips along with her name, it sounded like a prayer in the small confines of what we called our bedroom the last two weeks. It still didn’t feel real sometimes that she was here with me. Y/N chose to leave her life behind to follow me and my band across the States for a month. Not many people did that, especially for someone they barely knew. 

But we weren’t those people. Our relationship wasn’t typical, it had been different since the start. 

The last two weeks have been perfect. Y/N fit in great with everyone in our crew, she and Nicholas bonded over Britt. Same with her and Folio. Y/N and Jolly had a mutual show they watched together some nights after our shows when she wasn’t working on her novel. 

Hell, Y/N and Matt even bonded over their love for raccoons. 

Gazing up into her bright eyes, I cupped her cheek to force our gazes to lock. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” 

A red hue brushed across the soft features of her face as she continued to ride me. “Hm, no. Not recently.” 

“Well,” I pulled her flush against me. “You’re fucking beautiful, angel. And mine.” 

“Yours,” she cried out when I began to fuck up into her, my cock slamming with no remorse. 

The bunk beneath us creaked, giving away to everyone on the bus what we were doing, but I didn’t care. Y/N’s head fell to my shoulder, my name muffled by my skin, and when she clenched harder around me I knew she was close. 

I yanked her head back with my free hand, the other still wrapped around her tight and exposed her face and neck to me. 

“I want to watch you fall apart on my cock,” I said through gritted teeth. 

Her tits bounced with each hard thrust and I briefly took one of her nipples in my mouth, biting and teasing it with my tongue. 

“Noah,” Y/N choked out. “‘M gonna.” 

My head snapped up so I could watch her as the coil in my stomach began to snap, a burning rush shooting through my entire body as my release washed over me without warning. 

Both of us moaned each other's names in tangent as Y/N came apart all over my cock, her arousal coating my cock and hips. She fell to my body in a heap of exhaustion and I quickly covered us with the blanket, not bothering to clean us up or get dressed. 

“Goodnight, Noah,” Y/N pressed a kiss to my cheek before snuggling closer to me. 

I grinned, heart beating wildly in my chest, and wrapped myself tighter around her. “Sweet dreams, angel.” 

READER

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I exclaimed while staring down at the email on my laptop. 

Dear Y/N, 

We hope this email finds you well. But we wanted to let you know that beginning in two months, we will not be renewing your lease. We appreciate your understanding in this matter.

From, 

The leasing office. 

“Everything alright?” Noah asked as he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, steam following him. 

I bit my lip at the sight of him. The towel hung loosely around his hips, his hair was slicked back, and droplets of water trailed down his warm skin still red from his shower. 

I blinked. “Sorry, did you say something?” 

He smirked. “Distracted, are we?” 

“Well, you walk out like this,” I motioned to him from head to toe. “And you expect me NOT to listen to a word you just said?” 

“If I didn’t already bend you over the bathroom sink to fuck you, I would. But I have to be at the venue soon,” Noah left a kiss on my forehead.

My cheeks burned at the memory of earlier when Noah had me bent over the bathroom counter, fucking me without an ounce of falter. He slammed me so hard into the granite counter top, I was sure I’d have bruises in the morning. Noah’s long fingers were hooked in my mouth to hold me upright and I shivered when I remembered how my body reacted during my orgasm. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay here tonight?” I asked, biting my lip as I watched him walk around the room naked. 

Shit, his ass was perfect. 

“Angel,” he sighed while stepping into a pair of black briefs. “You’ve watched every single show on this tour so far. I’m not going to be mad or upset if you miss this one.” 

I pouted. “I know but I feel terrible.” 

“You’re so close to finishing your book, Y/N. You need some quiet time to focus. Take advantage of the fact we are staying in a hotel for the next two nights. Enjoy the quiet tonight and tomorrow we can spend our last day off sightseeing,” Noah said. 

It was the start of the last week of the tour and while the fear of what would happen afterward started to weigh heavy on my shoulders, I did my best not to dwell on it because I didn’t want to ruin the time we had left. It was clear that we would continue our relationship but it wouldn’t be easy since we lived in different states. 

“I can’t believe there are only four shows left,” I noted while setting my laptop on the table in front of me. “How do you feel about it?” 

Noah fell onto the couch next to me with a breath. “It’s always bittersweet. While I love performing on stage in front of sold-out crows, I miss the comfort and solace of my house.” 

I hummed in agreement, resting my hand on the back of his neck to play with the wet strands of his hair. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling about the place I’ve lived in,” I admitted. 

“Really?” He raised a brow. 

“I’ve tried to make my apartment feel like a home but it always feels like something was missing. But it doesn't even matter anymore.”

“Why’s that?” 

With a long sigh, I turned my laptop towards him so he could read the email, a slight frown pulling on his lips. 

“So, this means what?” Noah asked, even though I was pretty sure he already knew. 

“I have sixty days to find a new place to live,” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge deal. 

Although, it was. My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach knowing that I had to spend the rest of my time on the road with Noah by looking for places to live. 

“Do you want to stay in Las Vegas?” He asked while rubbing my back. 

“I guess before I never thought of moving anywhere else but now-,” the words trailed off. 

I didn’t want to say something if Noah didn’t feel the same. 

“But what?” He urged with a gentle tone. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should think about moving somewhere new; a fresh start,” I said after some hesitation. 

Noah hummed. “I heard Los Angeles is a great place to start fresh.” 

My head snapped up towards him, the words stumbling over my tongue. 

“Wh-what?

My heart hammered so loud in my chest that I could hear it in my ears and I began rubbing my palms on my thighs. Noah immediately picked up on my nerves and gently grabbed my hands and brought them to his chest. 

“I’m not asking you to move in with me, angel. You said it yourself though that you’re looking for a fresh start. Los Angeles has a lot of opportunities and there’s quite a few different places for rent around my area,” Noah explained. 

I chewed on my bottom lip. “Well, if I’m being honest. There’s really nothing for me in Las Vegas anymore. Britt was bouncing back and forth between there and Virgina to see Folio so I barely saw her to begin with.” 

Noah’s thumb brushed over the back of my hand, his brown eyes sparkling with so much hope. 

“It will make things easier for us,” I turned towards him. “But I don’t want to uproot my entire life if you’re not willing to work on us.” 

“Angel,” he brought my hands to his lips, leaving a vast variety of kisses. “I’m one hundred percent into this relationship. You know that I’m not going to force you into anything. But I’ve had you this close to me the last few weeks, I don’t think I can handle you living hours away from me after this.” 

Tears burned in the corners of my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath to keep them at bay. 

“Can I think about it?” I asked after a few beats of silence. 

Noah’s face fell slightly but he quickly recovered. “Of course, angel.” 

There was a knock on the door of our hotel room and after a quick kiss to my forehead, Noah tossed on a shirt before answering the door. On the other side stood Jolly with his bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Ready?” 

Noah peered over his shoulder to me, a frown on his lips. “I’ll miss you.” 

I giggled while jutting out my bottom lip. “I’ll miss you too, Pookie Bear.” 

Jolly rolled his eyes as he stepped into the room, waiting for Noah to finish packing up his things. 

“You’re not coming tonight?” He asked. 

I shook my head while motioning towards my laptop. “I have to finish up the last few things of my novel. I plan to self-publish in the next month or so.” 

“Oh, fuck. That’s great, Y/N!” Jolly smiled wide. 

“It’s a bit scary, though. I’m putting everything I have into this and if it fails, I don’t know what I’ll do,” I admitted with a sigh. 

Noah snuck up behind me on the couch and placed his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him upside down and he bent low to leave a firm but soft kiss on my lips. 

“It won’t fail, Y/N. I’ve read it and this is my unbiased opinion. You wrote an amazing, beautiful story. People will love it,” he reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulders. 

“Thank you,” I mused while tapping his arm. 

With one final kiss, Noah sneaking his tongue past my lips, I moaned quietly into his mouth as my hand snaked behind his neck. 

“I’ll miss you,” he muttered against my lips. 

“I’ll do my best to stay awake to wait for you,” I said. 

Noah slung his back over his shoulder and winked. “I’ll wake you up if you’re asleep.” 

As he and Jolly began to walk out of the room, I called after them. 

“Jolly!” 

“Yeah?” He poked his head back into the room just before Noah shut the door. 

“Tomorrow night! Season finale. Bring the pizza, I’ll have the drinks!” I pointed a finger at him. 

With a two-finger salute, Jolly nodded with Noah pushing him out of the room. He quickly turned to look back at me. 

“See you later, angel,” Noah blew a kiss. 

“Kick ass tonight!” I returned it.

Finally, in the solace of the hotel room, I blew out a shaky breath and rested my laptop on my lap once again, ignoring the email from my leasing office. Even though I asked Noah for time to think about my final decision, I already knew what I was going to do. 

It was the truth when I said there was nothing for me left in Las Vegas and I wanted a fresh start. Although, I didn’t expect Noah to throw out the idea of moving to Los Angeles. But the thought of being close to him made my heart flutter in the best fucking way. We got so used to being around each other all day, every day the last few weeks so the thought of being separated once the tour ended on Friday didn’t sound appealing. 

With a crack of my fingers, I set to work for the next few hours focusing on my novel as I worked out the last few kinks and polishing it to perfection. By the time I felt comfortable with everything, reading it from start to finish, I couldn’t stop the large smile that spread on my face. 

“Shit, Noah was right. This is good,” I muttered to myself. 

Quickly checking the time on my phone, I noticed that it was almost time for Bad Omens to go on stage so I hastily typed out a message to Noah. 

Me: It’s finished 😁

Almost instantly, he responded. 

Noah🧜: I’m so fucking proud of you, angel. We’ll celebrate later tonight when I’m back. 

With a slight uncurl of my lips, I responded. 

Me: Would this maybe include the yellow mask? 

After a few minutes of no response, I chalked it up to Noah being pulled away to go on stage. So I spent the rest of the night tidying up the hotel room every so often checking my phone for any Bad Omens content from tonight. Even though it was sparse, I couldn’t help but feel that twinge of jealousy that I didn’t go tonight. 

It’s one night, Y/N. You have four more shows to watch before the end. 

Just before I went to lock my phone, a new text from Noah popped up. 

“Must be the break,” I muttered with a smile. 

Noah🧜: Don’t tempt me, Y/N. Because now that’s all I’m thinking about before going back out on stage.

Of course, I did want to tempt him so with a sinister smirk, I quickly stepped out of my clothes and lounged on the bed. I went through a few different positions until I found the best one and snapped a few pictures. I had an arm over my bare breasts with my bright yellow lace panties. With the picture attached, I replied to Noah. 

Me: Is this temptation enough?

Setting my phone on the bed, I got dressed once again then ordered myself some room service with a few extra things for Noah when he returned tonight. I did some more research on how to self-publish and although the doubt was still there, I couldn’t help but feel excited that soon my book would be out there for everyone to read. 

I tapped my chin and mulled over this thought for a few seconds, I decided to spend the time while I ate to look up different apartments for rent in Los Angeles.

“What the fuck,” I grumbled when I realized how expensive some of the apartments were. “There’s no way I can afford any of these.”

I shut my laptop with a bit of force and left it on the coffee table. I decided to ease away my worries and doubts by taking a long soak in the tub. Briefly checking my phone, I noticed Noah still hadn’t responded but I knew that it was the end of the show and he’d be back soon enough anyway. 

Almost thirty minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom with the towel loosely around me only to be pushed up against the wall by a large, warm body. 

“Someone’s been naughty while I’m gone.” 

I was frozen in fear until the familiar voice breathed in my ear and immediately I relaxed in his embrace. His arms were posted on either side of my head, hands sprawled against the wall as his hips locked me in place. I drank in the sight of his tattoos and eased into his chest. 

“I missed you,” I breathed while resting my head on his shoulder. 

It was then that I noticed something yellow covering Noah’s face and I sucked in a breath. But before I could turn to look at him completely, he forced my face into the wall again. A slick warmth spread between my legs as a fire buzzed in my lower spine. 

“Meet me in the hotel pool in ten minutes,” his teeth grazed over the shell of my ear. 

“W-what?” 

Suddenly Noah’s warmth was gone followed by the door to the room shutting. I swallowed thickly while staring at the empty room. My heart felt giddy with the wonder and excitement of what Noah had planned but my stomach flipped with nerves as I quickly threw on some clothes. 

NOAH

Thankfully the pool was empty since it was late evening so I didn’t have to worry about anyone other than Y/N walking in. I sat on the edge of the pool in my pair of black swim trunks and the yellow mask covering my face. From the second I saw that picture of Y/N, all I could think about was this moment which made it difficult to focus on finishing my set tonight. 

The door to the pool room opened and my eyes snapped away from my legs wadding in the water to drink in the sight of Y/N sheepishly walking in. My pupils dilated when I noticed she was wearing my white Death Note shirt and nothing else. 

I felt her burning gaze over every inch of me, lingering on my face, and even from our distance, I could see the breath catch in her throat. 

“What if someone walks in on us?” She asked while shifting on her feet. 

I pointed to the door behind her. “Lock it.” 

Her eyes widened. “Noah, we can't!” 

I titled my head to the side. “Angel, are you afraid?” 

“No,” Y/N scoffed with a shaky voice. “I just don’t-.” 

“Lock. The. Door.” 

I never took my eyes off of her as I watched her shuffle her feet back to the door and when the click of the lock echoed in the large space, I hooked my finger at her. 

“Get in the pool,” I demanded. 

Y/N swallowed thickly. “Uh, I didn’t wear my swimsuit.” 

My feet kept wading through the water as I bit my lip. “Are you telling me that’s all you’re wearing?” 

When she nodded, I absent-mindedly ran a hand over my chest, a hum vibrating against my palm. I had two options: I could have her strip naked and get in the pool or have her get in the pool while still wearing my shirt. 

Deciding on the second option, I jumped into the pool still wearing the mask, and swam to the other end of the pool where she stood. I reached my hand out towards her but quickly picked up on the hesitation on her face. 

“Are you alright?” I asked, my facade dropping slightly. 

“Um, if I’m being honest, I’m kind of nervous about what you have planned,” she rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I trust you, Noah. I do.” 

“Safe word?” I reminded her. 

Y/N nodded with a small hint of a smile. “I remember.” 

“Good,” I extended my hand again. “Now get your pretty ass in this pool.” 

When she went to reach for her shirt to take it off, I curly shook my head. “Leave it on.” 

The second her soft hand was in mine, I helped her walk down the stairs of the pool until the water stopped right under her breasts. I yanked her into my embrace, catching her lips in a passionate kiss. Her nails dug into my chest while mine gripped underneath the shirt, grazing over her bare ass. 

“Angel,” I groaned against her lips while pushing her against the wall of the pool, locking her in place. 

Y/N pushed me away gently so she could look into my eyes, hers darting all over my face. 

“Fuck, I thought you looked hot in the black one but something about this yellow mask is making me feral,” she nipped at the skin of my neck. 

I hissed in pleasure, shivering underneath the touch of her lips upon me. It was something I never got used to, no matter how many times she kissed me. I still couldn't explain this feeling that filled my heart and view whenever I was with her. It was so unknown that it scared me to follow it at first. It hindered me useless when she left me in the hotel room all those months ago. 

Suddenly I realized that this was the first time we were in a hotel room together since that first night together and fear sunk my heart deep. I yanked her away from me so I could force her to look into my eyes. 

“Promise you won’t leave?” I asked with a stern hold on her chin. 

“Huh?” 

I licked my lips. “I need you to promise me that you won’t walk out the door tonight unless it’s with me.” 

Y/N’s eyes darted back and forth between mine until they finally softened, her realizing why I needed her to promise me this.

“Noah,” she cupped my cheek over the mask. “I promise to never leave you like that again. I’m here with you, for you, and I’m never leaving.” 

I swallowed the burn in my throat and left a kiss on the inside of her palm. “Thank you.” 

She kissed me again and this time, I didn’t hold back. I ravaged every single inch of her with my hands and mouth, needing to taste her; to feel her. With my hands on her hips, I forced her to turn around towards the wall of the pool. 

“Hands on the edge,” I rasped. 

Doing what I said, Y/N rested her hands on the edge of the pool while I brought her ass towards me underneath the water. My cock was straining against the confines of my tight swim trunks, it almost begging to be inside of her. Ever since she sent me that picture earlier, all I could think about was the sweetness of her pussy and the way it felt when it gripped my cock. 

Once my cock was free, I pumped it a few times underwater and leaned over Y/N to whisper in her ear. 

“You think you were smart sending me that picture earlier?” 

My voice was dark and low, filled with my desire and mock disappointment.

“No,” she breathed. 

“Anyone could have seen it, angel,” I nuzzled my mask-covered face into the crook of her neck. “What if that happened?” 

One hand was wrapped tightly around my cock, poised at her entrance, while my other hand dug into the soft skin of her hip to keep her in place. 

“I’m sorry,” she whined while pressing her ass farther into me. 

Her whines went straight to my cock. 

“I’m not going to hold back, angel,” I bit down on the sweet spot of skin underneath her ear. 

“Fuck me, Noah.” 

With fucking pleasure.

The water splashed as I slammed into her, completely seething myself between her folds, and her cries echoed throughout the vast room around us. Neither of us said a word as I harshly fucked it, the only thing that you could hear was the water splashing, my heavy breathing, and her cries of pleasure. 

I wrapped my arm around her midsection to pull her closer to me, her shirt hiked up just underneath her breasts, and I felt the sweat gather on my forehead underneath the mask due to the humidity of the pool and our bodies intertwined. 

“Shit,” I cursed when her pussy clenched around me. “I need to take the mask off.” 

“No!” Y/N looked over her shoulder at me. “Please, not yet.” 

Water had splashed out from the pool onto the stone floor around us and I yanked her off of me, her whines of protest sounding like music to my ears. I spun Y/N around so she could look up at me now. 

“You want to see the mask?” 

She nodded in her blissed-out state. 

“Then eyes on me, angel,” I demanded, spearing her open with my cock yet again. 

Y/N cried out my name, almost as if she was praying to me, and I lifted her leg around my back so I could reach her at a better angle; deeper. I needed to go deeper. 

“Noah.” 

Her eyes never left mine as I fucked her senseless, her mouth falling open. My cock twitched inside her when the fire burned at the base of my spine, my orgasm so fucking close. 

“Are you close, angel?” I asked, barely hanging on as my pace became erratic and uneven. 

There was a slight frown on her face and for a second, I worried I was hurting her. 

“It’s hard for me to cum underwater,” Y/N admitted with a shy face. 

One hand rested against my chest while her other grasped at my mask, almost holding it in place. 

“It’s okay, you can cum, Noah. Cum for me, I want to watch your face underneath the mask fall apart. 

A whimper crawled out of my throat, one that made Y/N’s eyes widened and pussy clench around me one final time as my hips stilled, cock spilling my arousal into her. My forehead fell to hers as my breath came out strangled. 

“So beautiful,” Y/N mused while playing with the strands of hair that peaked out from underneath my mask. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t cum in water,” I asked, almost breathless, now looking at her. 

She shrugged. “Trust me, Noah. It still felt good; really good. But I couldn’t even if you put a vibrator against my clit. My body just can't.” 

Ripping off the mask now, I let the cool air of the room brush across the heated skin of my face and took a deep breath. 

“Well,” I kissed her lips and tucked myself away. “Seems like we have unfinished business then.” 

Y/N raised a brow but before she could ask what I meant, I had her sitting on the edge of the pool, me following right behind her. 

“Noah-.” 

Her giggles carried around the room as I threw her wet body over my shoulder and began walking us out of the pool room. 

“My ass is hanging out!” She cried. 

I smacked it before unlocking the door. “Lucky for you, our room is only down the hall.” 

It was her turn to smack my ass. “If anyone sees us, Mr. Sebastian, I swear to Hades himself.” 

“Oh, Mr. Sebastian, huh? Am I your professor now?” I joked when we stepped in front of our door. 

When Y/N was set down on her feet, she crossed her arms over her chest, the wet strands of her hair sticking to her face. 

“Are you suggesting a new roleplay?” 

She was fucking adorable with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. If she wasn’t careful, I would have pressed her up against the door and fucked her right here in the hallway. 

“You like the idea of me dressing up as your professor? You’re my student coming to ask for extra credit?” I teased while leaning an arm against the wall above her. 

Y/N gazed up at me through her lashes and dragged a finger down my abdomen, resting at the waistband of my swim trunks. “Only if you wear those gold round glasses.” 

“Really,” I leaned away from her. “Those glasses turned you on?” 

She shrugged with chattering lips. “You look fucking adorable in glasses.” 

I patted her thigh. “Let’s get you inside and warm you up. Your lips are blue.” 

Once the door was opened, I let her walk in first, only for Y/N to halt in place with a loud gasp leaving her lips. I stood behind her with a proud smirk on her face. 

READER

I stood in place as I took in the sight in front of me with tears gathering in my eyes. Somehow while we were in the pool, Noah had someone come and decorate our hotel room with a variety of flowers, a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice on the table. 

“Wh-what is this?” I pointed while looking back at Noah. 

He was leaning his back against the shut door, a proud smile on his face. “I told you we would celebrate you finishing your book.” 

“When did you do this?” 

“Jolly came and set it up while we were in the pool,” Noah said. 

I felt my skin prick and burn. “You didn’t tell him why we were in the pool, did you?” 

“No, angel,” he snorted while pushing himself off the door and closing the distance between us. “Do you like it?” 

I wrapped my arms around his back and rested my head against the cool skin of his chest. 

“I love it, thank you.” 

Noah placed a kiss on top of my head. “Anything for you.” 

We stayed like that for a few beats until he lifted my chin with a finger and kissed me gently and slowly. The amount of passion from this simple kiss made my heart stutter in my chest and my head spin with a feeling I was so afraid of confronting. It had been lingering within me a lot the last week and I kept pushing it deeper and deeper. 

But now in Noah’s embrace, I couldn’t ignore that feeling that lit a fire in my veins and made my heart spread warmth throughout my entire existence. 

He walked me back towards the bed where the back of my knees hit before I fell onto it, Noah following close behind. His hand grazed over the chilled skin of my thigh before resting over my hip as his other hand palmed my cheek, keeping me in place. 

My fingers wrapped around his wrist while I hooked him with my legs around his back. Noah’s tongue brushed over my lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

“Woah,” I said breathlessly. “That was some kiss.”

His eyes burned with so much adoration as he stared down at me, thumb grazing just underneath my cheekbone. 

“I have something else we can try tonight. If you’re up for it.” 

I nodded, a little too eager. “Always.” 

Noah climbed off of me to help me sit up, removing my cold wet shirt and tossing it to the floor. My nipples perked with the sudden chill and he motioned for me to lie back. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked. 

I nodded again. “Always.” 

“Close your eyes for me then, angel.” 

Doing as he said, I listened as he moved around the room, glass clanking together, and what sounded like him rustling around in his suitcase. The bed dipped next to my head when I felt Noah grab my wrists, pinning them together, and a silk fabric was tied around them. 

“What?” I opened my eyes to see him tying my wrists to the headboard of the bed. 

My heart rate picked up as the slick wetness pooled between my legs. 

Noah peered down at me. “I-is this alright?” 

I couldn’t help but smile at how nervous he suddenly became. 

“More than alright,” I reassured him with a soft kiss to the anime tattoo on his thigh. 

With my reassurance, he finished tying my wrists to the bed and then slipped a blindfold over my eyes. 

“If this is too much, let me know.” 

Suddenly without my sense of sight or touch, my others picked up and I could hear the slight waver in Noah’s voice. 

“I’m okay, Noah. I’ll use the safe word if I have to.” 

He patted my thigh softly before he got off the bed only for a few seconds before returning. A bottle popped loudly in the room and I squirmed, my squeals echoed when a cold liquid spilled over my stomach and between the valley of my breasts. 

“It’s so cold,” I giggle while writhing in my binds. 

Noah’s tongue licked up the liquid, starting at my navel then up between my breasts and I heard him hum in approval. 

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” 

His hand lifted my legs so I was perched on my feet then spread them wide. The cold liquid was then spilled over my core and when I tried to close my legs, Noah’s grip on my thighs turned bruising; in the best way. 

“No hiding.” 

“Shit,” I arched my back off the bed when I felt his tongue lap up the juices, my own and the one he spilled before he sucked it with a pop. 

My jaw was wrenched open and although I couldn’t see, I could hear Noah taking a drink from the bottle before he hovered over my lips. Suddenly, he kissed me, spitting the juice from his mouth into mine and I groaned in ecstasy as I hungrily attacked him. 

Unfortunately, he pulled away too soon and I could hear Noah set down the bottle on the bedside table but was taken aback when his lips met mine in a hungry kiss yet again. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth and I moaned when I tasted myself mixed with the sparkling grape juice. 

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N,” Noah mused while he kissed down my jaw and neck. “I can’t wait to be by your side as you continue to succeed.” 

“You’re going to make me cry,” I joked as a happy tear fell from behind the blindfold. 

He kissed it away. “You deserve all of this.” 

Suddenly his warmth was gone only to be replaced with an unknown feeling being grazed over my perky nipples and then down my stomach. It was gone for a second and what sounded like Noah taking a bite of something juicy before I felt that object grazing over the same path as before only this time it was wet and sticky. His tongue followed that path and I shivered underneath the touch, still only seeing the darkness of the blindfold. 

“If I had to compare you to any flavor, I think this would be it,” Noah’s voice was deep, overtaken by his own lust. 

I whined. “Noah, please.” 

My body felt on fire with what I guess was the strawberries, as it dragged over every inch of my torso followed by Noah’s tongue. The burn between my legs was a painful ache that I needed to touch. With me not orgasming in the pool, I felt like I was ready to explode with the simple breath of him. 

I pulled at the binds. “Please, love.” 

I felt Noah stiffen above me. “What?” 

“Can you take the blindfold off? I want to see you.” 

Suddenly I blinked wildly at the sudden brightness of the room but sucked in a breath when I realized how close Noah was to me; his pupils blown wide. 

“What did you call me?” 

My brows furrowed as I tried to remember what I did call him. 

“Love?” I said again, only this time it was filled with doubt. 

Was it too much? Too soon for a nickname like that?

“I’m sorry. It sort of slipped. If you don’t like it-.” 

Noah’s hand covered my mouth, hushing my rantings. “It’s fine, angel. I like it. As long as you don’t call me some kind of frozen dessert, love is fine.” 

I peered down at myself, eyes widening at the sticky mess he created. My breasts and stomach were covered with the red juice from the strawberry and the chocolate that seemed to melt. 

Then resting on top of my pussy was a perfectly shaped strawberry and Noah followed my gaze by perching himself between my legs, his brown eyes peering up at me. 

He took a bite of the strawberry and flicked it with his tongue. Anything I wanted to say died on my tongue as I continued to watch him devour the fruit that was still resting on my core. 

“No-Noah,” his name came out choked. 

“Hm?” He hummed while flicking his gaze up to me, now dragging the half-eaten fruit between my lips and I arched off the bed at the new sensation. 

I pulled hard at the binds on my wrist but cursed when I realized there was no way I’d be able to break free. 

“Try all you want. I’ve done extensive research in Shibari,” Noah bit gently on the inside of my thigh. “You’re not getting out of that.” 

I hissed. “Shi-what?” 

“Shibari,” Noah bit then licked up the entire length of my thigh. “Japanese bondage.” 

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Have you been reading my private thoughts or something? You’re two for two tonight on my secret list of kinks.” 

His head snapped up from between my legs. “What was the first one?” 

I wanted to turn my head away in embarrassment but knew that Noah didn’t want me to hide from him. 

“You spitting the juice in my mouth,” I said with only a slight waver in my voice. 

Noah’s eyes darkened as his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “You’re bringing out this dark side of me, angel.” 

I lifted my hips towards his face. “Prove it.” 

His face disappeared when he buried himself between my legs again, tongue and teeth crazing over my clit and I cried out in pleasure. 

“I’d say you’re better than any fucking fruit,” Noah said before sucking on my sensitive nub and adding two fingers. 

He pumped ruthlessly and I swore under my breath, stars blinding my vision. 

“God Noah,” I mewelled feeling the coil in my stomach pull taunt, almost ready to spring free. 

My toes curled as my legs went stiff, orgasm so fucking close. 

“That’s right, you call me and I’ll make sure you cum, angel,” Noah rasped. 

Finally, I let my body relax as my waves of ecstasy washed over me and I came all over Noah’s face and fingers, the noises I made undoubtedly being heard by whoever was in the room next to us. 

“Shit,” I breathed, chest heaving. 

Noah licked me through the aftershocks while he reached for another strawberry. The juices squirted everywhere when he sunk his teeth in deep and it was then I noticed he had stripped himself of his swim trunks, baring himself naked in front of me as he knelt between my legs. His hair was falling into his eyes in slight curls from the humidity of the pool earlier and I whined at how gorgeous he looked with the red juices of the strawberry and my arousal coating his lips and jaw. 

His cock was thick and red, beads of precum spilling from the slit and I licked my lips, wanting a taste. 

Noah cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to suck something, angel?” 

“Please!” I begged. 

Suddenly the fingers he used to finger me were stuffed in my mouth, instantly tasting myself and the strawberry on them. My tongue quickly went to work on cleaning them, humming in approval of the taste. 

“That’s it, I want you to taste how heavenly you are for me, angel.”

His fingers were yanked from my mouth with a loud pop but before I could protest, I noticed Noah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, jaw falling slack. I saw his hips still and felt a warm liquid coat the inside of my thigh. His cum covered both of our thighs and the blanket beneath me. 

“Shit,” Noah cursed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think-.” 

“Untie me.” 

He raised a brow. “What?” 

My jaw clenched as I spoke through gritted teeth. “Untie. Me. Now.” 

“Yes ma'am,” Noah joked while finally freeing me from my binds. 

Once freed, I managed to overpower him so that I was straddling him, a look of shock on his face. I reached for a strawberry on the plate next to the bed then once perched over his cock, semi-limp but also hard from his orgasm, I took a large bite of the strawberry so now he was covered in the juices. 

I tossed the rest of the strawberry to the ground before licking up the cum from inside his thigh and then the length of Noah’s cock, reveling in the taste of his cum and strawberry. My tongue swirled over the head in fast circles and Noah’s hand grasped at my hair, holding me in place. 

The noise that came from Noah’s mouth nearly made me choke on his cock. 

Did he just whine?

No. There’s no way. 

I grabbed the rest of his cock I couldn’t fit in my mouth and stroked in slow pumps. 

Another whine echoed in the room. 

Shit. 

“Angel,” Noah whined, just before he spilled himself down my throat. “What the fuck!” 

I was pulled off of him with a loud pop, his hips shaking from being over-sensitive. 

“That’s it, Noah,” I praised with a kiss to the reaper tattoo on his stomach. “I knew you had it in you.” 

As he pulled me into his warm embrace, ready to sleep the exhaustion that had suddenly overtaken us away, I didn’t miss how his eyes glistened when I praised him. 

“Do you remember your promise?” Noah’s voice broke through the quiet. 

I rested my chin on his chest as I glanced up at him. “I’m not leaving you, Noah. I’m right here with you as long as you have me.” 

He left a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’m not letting you go, angel.” 

I wrapped my leg around his stomach. “The feeling is mutual, love.” 

Just before the darkness of sleep took us, I traced my finger over Noah’s chest. “I’m going to move to Los Angeles.” 

Noah suddenly lifted my chin to face him, his eyes full of light and hope. “You are?” 

I nodded with a wide smile. “There’s nothing for me in Las Vegas anymore. Everything I want is wherever you are, Noah.” 

We shared a lazy kiss that was full of passion and I relaxed into his embrace, excited for what the future held for us.

READER

“Mother fucker,” Noah cursed as he bounded down the steps of the stage to where I was standing. 

It was the final show of the tour and everything you think could have gone wrong, did. 

There were fights all night. 

Noah’s voice wasn’t up to par as he was dealing with some kind of sore throat but he wanted to push on. 

Folio’s drum broke but that was an easy fix. 

Not to mention, since this was the last show, that meant that I was flying back home tomorrow. We didn’t speak of it much only because we didn’t want the bubble we created the last few weeks to pop. I needed to go back home to pack up my apartment and figure out where the hell I was going to live. In the last few days, we spent all our free time looking up apartments only to be broken down when I realized how expensive Noah’s area was. 

“Something will come up, angel,” Noah kissed the side of my head. “We can’t rush things.” 

“I have less than sixty days to find something. I feel like I have to rush. But these prices are insane.” 

Nick set down a cup of tea in front of me as we all lounged in the front area of the bus while it drove us to the next destination. 

“Your book is set to be published at the end of the month right?” He asked. 

I nodded. “It cleared out my savings so I’m hoping that it wasn’t for nothing.” 

Jolly sighed. “You need to stop being so negative. While we didn’t read your book, from what Noah has said, your book will become popular. You already have a great following on your Instagram. Just give it time.” 

“I’m my biggest critic,” I shrugged with a sigh. 

“That’s why you and Noah are perfect together,” Folio joked with a smirk. 

I was brought out of the past when Noah kicked the crate next to me and I grabbed his arm. 

“Noah, you need to take a breath,” I said when he turned to look at me. 

The vein in his neck twitched. “This was the last show and everything kept getting fucked up.” 

“I know,” I rested my hand on his cheek and could feel all the anger leave his body. “But you can’t dwell on it, alright? You can’t change things that already happened.” 

He pressed a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I just hate not being able to control things.” 

I nodded. “I’ve noticed. Which is why I have a surprise for you.” 

Noah raised a brow while he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me towards the green room of the venue. We had plans to drive the six hours from the venue back to Noah’s place where I would take a flight out tomorrow night back home. 

We had about twenty-four hours left with each other and I didn’t want to waste it with things we couldn’t change. 

“Do I get a hint?” Noah waggled his eyebrows as we stepped through the doorway of the green room. 

“Oh, does this have to do with you needing the back room of the bus?” Folio wondered, picking up on the last bit of our conversation. 

“Yes, it does,” I stuck out my tongue playfully before I turned back to Noah. “I’m going to head to the bus to get things ready. Text me when you’re done here?” 

He smiled and pecked my lips. “You have my mind swirling with ideas, angel.” 

I smacked his ass on the way out of the green room. “You have no idea, love.” 

Thirty minutes later, I was standing in the middle of the back room of the tour bus, shaking out my nerves. This was big and something I didn’t know how Noah would react. He could get one look at me and slam the door shut in my face. While we did explore a wide variety of kinks in our sex life, this was something different. 

I pulled at the red lace over my breasts as I adjusted the lingerie set I had bought earlier today. It was tighter than I would have liked but I did feel sexy the moment I stepped into it. The material was thin, my nipples perking through, and the panties had the shape of a heart cut out on my ass, the breeze brushing across my bare ass. 

I had no idea if Noah loved lingerie on his partners or if he liked what I had planned but it was something he needed. Doing my own research on Shibari, I found out that being tied up and bound helped for a variety of different reasons. One specifically: help people who feel like they’ve lost control. 

A soft knock sounded on the door and I quickly brushed my hair out of my face while double-checking to make sure the blinds were drawn. 

“Angel?” Noah’s soft voice called from the other side. 

“It’s open!” 

As soon as he stepped into the room, his eyes widened at the sight especially when his gaze fell on me. The tattoo on his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. 

I shifted on my feet. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he ran a hand over his jaw. “What’s all this?” 

“Uh,” I pointed to the floor. “Well, we both have been complaining about how small the bunks are, and with what I have planned, we needed more space. So I pulled the mattresses from our bunk and the two empty ones to make a giant bed.” 

The corner of his lips curled up but his eyes were hidden underneath his black baseball cap so I couldn’t see them. He wore a black turtleneck, cargo pants to match, his white shoes in contrast to the rest of him.

“And this?” He motioned over my body. 

I suddenly felt self-conscious. “You know, this was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

As I walked past Noah, ready to put whatever I had planned behind me, his arm shot out to wrap around me and tossed me to the floor, gently landing on the makeshift bed I created. His hips locked me into place as he held both of my hands above my head with one hand. Still hidden under his baseball cap, Noah tilted his head at me. 

“Did I say you could leave? Especially to walk out there like this?” 

I slowly shook my head. “N-no.” 

“Good girl,” he mused while leaning farther over me, his lips ghosting over mine. 

“Noah,” I whined. “This was supposed to be for you.” 

He hummed, fingers of his free hand touching the lace of my panties. 

“Fuck, angel. You look gorgeous in red.” 

“I-uh-had a feeling you liked red,” I cursed when a finger slipped underneath my panties and between my folds. 

“So wet. What do you have planned for me?” Noah brushed his lips over the swell of my breasts. 

“Let me show you,” I lifted my legs to wrap around him, somehow managing to get him on his back. 

It might not have looked the prettiest but it got the job done as now I was the one straddling him. 

“As much as I love this hat on you,” I smacked it off of him, his brown eyes now on full display. “I want to see your entire face with what I have planned.” 

On the couch next to us was a bag and I rummaged through it, still sitting on Noah’s hips. He rested his hands behind his head as he watched me. 

“Now, I know that you can easily overpower me but can you promise to let me do this?” I asked, pausing momentarily from looking through the bag. 

Noah smirked. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” 

“Safe word?” That was my response.

His face went stone, eyes darkening as his pupils dilated. “Angel.” 

Freeing the rope from the bag, I held it out in front of him. “Take off your shirt.” 

Without a second thought, Noah stripped himself of his shirt, and when I stood to my feet, allowing him to kick off his shoes before shimming out of his pants, donning only a pair of black briefs. 

“Hands above your head,” I ordered. 

Once Noah was adjusted back on the floor with his hands above his head, I sat on his hips once again and began working on the knots I spent the last few days practicing in private. 

“Shibari?” He asked. 

“You know,” I started, pulling the knots around his wrist tight. “Bondage is more than just sex. It can help people deal with panic attacks or not feel like they’re in control. Their mind is solely focused on the binds and feeling as if they can't escape kind of grounds them in a way.” 

“Why do you think I started reading about it?” Noah asked quietly. 

I paused briefly to stare down at him, the features of his face now soft. 

“I can stop-.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Keep going.” 

With his reassurance, I finished up the knots around his wrists and smiled in victory. I then kissed from his jaw down to his neck, all the way down his chest and stomach. Noah’s breathing became slow and steady so when I peered up at him, I noticed his eyes were closed. 

I began to pull down his briefs, his hard cock springing free and smacking against his stomach. The beads of precum begging to be tasted so that's exactly what I did. 

“Shit, Y/N.” 

Noah’s bound hands reached for me and I immediately pulled myself off his cock. Looking around the room, I tried to find something to tie him to so he couldn’t move his arms. 

“Oh, perfect,” I  muttered while taking another rope from the bag. 

I looped it through a free space of knots on the binds of his wrist and there was enough slack with the new rope as I tied it to the doorknob. We were less than two feet away from it so I knew Noah wouldn’t strain his arms if he pulled on it. I also knew that the door was locked and wouldn’t open. 

“You little minx,” Noah licked his lips as I positioned myself between his legs again. 

“Just enjoy this, love. It’s all about you tonight.”

I grasped his cock in my hand as I lowered my mouth over it once again. My tongue brushed along the underside of it as I began bobbing my head up and down, free hand massaging his balls. 

“Fuck,” Noah strangled out, pulling on his bindings. 

The door rattled loudly but I didn’t care if anyone heard. As I mentioned, this was for Noah and I wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that. 

I worked him upright to the brink, knowing that when his stomach muscles tightened, he was close. So I popped off of him, earning an annoyed groan from Noah. 

“Fuck  you,” he said with no ounce of venom behind his voice. 

I tsked while smacking his thigh. “Such a filthy mouth. Maybe I need to stuff it with something?” 

Noah’s eyes flashed as he pulled on his bindings. “I fucking hate I can’t touch you right now.” 

I laid a soft kiss on his lips. “Soon, love. If you behave.” 

Reaching behind me, I pulled out the last two things from the bag, slipped on the bright yellow mask, and looked back towards Noah. 

“Oh,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Fuck, Y/N. Angel. I-.” 

I titled my head. “Cat got your tongue, Noah?” 

The door rattled even louder now as Noah yanked on his bindings. “Untie me.” 

Ignoring him, I gently forced his mouth open and set the grillz on his top and bottom teeth. Noah’s tongue glided over them, huffing and puffing with anger that I wouldn’t untie him. 

When he growled, the grillz shined under the light and my pussy clenched with desire. 

I wonder how it would feel to have him eat me out with those in his mouth. 

Hm, another time. 

Noah bit his lip hard, drawing a little bit of blood and I immediately brought his face to mine, licking up the blood as I kissed him deeply. We both moaned into the kiss and I reached between us to poise his cock at my entrance. I wanted this night to drag on but suddenly, I couldn’t wait. I needed him inside of me. 

Pulling away from our kiss, I pushed my panties to the side before sitting completely on his cock. Both of our moans echoed in the room as I sat there for a long moment, reveling in the way he felt between my walls. 

“So good,” I praised before moving my hips. 

The veins in Noah’s arms bulged as he tried to break free of his binds but I refused to let him go. 

“Touch yourself,” he rasped, gone in ecstasy. 

I did, two fingers pressed to my clit in fast circles as I brought both Noah and me closer to our orgasms. 

“Noah!” I cried out when mine hit me without warning, my arousal coating his cock and hips. 

“Holy shit,” his head smacked against the floor. “ ‘M gonna fill you up, angel.” 

I nodded hastily as he fucked me through the aftershocks, soon enough his warm essence filled me up, just like he promised.

Exhausted, I fell onto him in a heap, burying my face into the crook of his neck. Noah brushed a kiss into my hairline. 

“Thank you for this, angel. It helped; a lot.” 

I patted his cheek, eyes closed with slumber. “Of course, my love.” 

Suddenly remembering he was still tied up, I clambered off of him, his cum running down my legs as I went to work untying him. Once freed, I brought his red wrists to my lips, pressing gentle kisses. 

“You might have to explain to the guys where those marks came from,” I said with a grimace, 

Noah rolled us over so we were laying on the makeshift bed again, covering us in the blanket. 

“I want to hold you till we're frozen,” Noah nuzzled his nose in the back of my neck. 

With a yawn, I rested my back against his chest, letting the noises of the bus gliding along the road and the guys moving around the front of the bus lull me to sleep. 

“Angel?” 

I was so exhausted that I could only hum in response to Noah. 

“I hope you know that I’m coming with you to Vegas to help you pack.” 

This had me turning over in his arms so I could face him. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat so I brushed it away. 

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. 

He left a kiss on my nose causing me to giggle. “I know but I want to. We can keep looking for places in the meantime.” 

I raised a playful brow. “You’re really not letting me go, huh?” 

“You’re stuck with me,” Noah kissed my lips. 

Wouldn’t have it any other way.

NOAH

Carrying the box down the long hallway, I let my mind wander to how I got here; how we got here. 

I never thought all those months ago when Y/N first stepped into that green room behind Britt that my life would change the way it had. I never expected one night of sex would turn into a full-blown relationship for me. But the moment those bright eyes pulled me in that very first night, I knew that Y/N was it for me. She was the only one I wanted. 

Y/N was apprehensive at first to follow me on the road, but I didn’t blame her. She was worried all we would do was fight but contrary to that, we only fought once and that was a few weeks ago when we had to spend some time apart. 

I had to fly back to Los Angeles for some podcast interviews and Y/N needed to remain in Vegas to finish packing up her place. She still couldn’t find a new place, one that she could afford even though her book sales were flourishing. A week after the tour ended, her book was finally released and was slowly climbing the ladder towards a best seller. It wasn’t there yet but just as I predicted, it was popular. It sold out in a variety of stores around the States. 

Even though it was a small fight, it still weighed heavy on my heart. It was almost two weeks apart from each other and our calls were far in between; both of us were busy. Needless to say, we were getting frustrated. 

“I don’t understand what you want me to do, Noah. I’m just as busy as you.”

I pinched my nose with one hand while the other held the phone to my ear as I paced my room. 

“Yeah I get it but, I want to hear your voice. Sorry for bothering you over it.” 

“I never said that!” 

I knew it was wrong to snap at her but my anger got the best of me. I hated being so far from her. She told me prior she was thinking of renting a place thirty minutes from me. 

“It’s just how it felt! The way you answered.” I sighed into the phone.  

“Noah! Come on! If we want this to work, we can’t do this.” 

I scoffed. “Do what?”

“This petty blaming shit. Who misses whose calls first or what not? Come on.”

“How do you expect me to react, Y/N? You told me you’re renting a place that’s too far,” I fell onto the edge of my bed. 

“Thirty minutes isn’t too far, Noah! And I never said I was renting it. I was thinking about it. There’s nothing else closer. I don’t know what you want me to do.” 

“Just let me find a place, alright? I know something will show up,” I urged her. “Don’t jump into the first place you find without actually thinking it through.” 

There was a long beat of silence. “Look, this is a bit too much for me right now. I’m already stressed out as it is, the last thing I need from you is you pushing me.” 

I shook my head. “I’m not pushing you-.” 

“I have to go. I’ll call you later.” 

Once she hung up, I stared at the screen of my phone for less than two minutes as my knee bounced in agitation. 

Fuck that. I’m not leaving it like this. 

“What, Noah?” Y/N sighed as she answered the phone. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to start a fight. I just miss you, that’s all,” I apologized while running a hand through my hair. 

“I’m sorry too, love. It was wrong of me to take my stress and anger about the situation out on you. I’m afraid I won’t be able to find anything close to you.” 

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “We will, I promise.” 

She did find an affordable place that was close to me and she signed the lease this morning, us spending all day moving in her things. The guys helped out but once evening came, Y/N rushed them out of the apartment. They spent all day working with us, they needed to rest. 

“Here’s the last box from the truck,” I spoke while setting it down on the kitchen island. 

Y/N smiled up at me from her spot on the floor, newspapers scattered around her. 

“Thank you, love. Is Jolly still taking the truck back?” 

I nodded. “You know, I love my house. It’s comfortable. I’ve got a great couch and I go out on my porch every morning to drink my coffee in the sunlight. But I can definitely see myself being comfortable and finding a home here too. Wherever you are is home.”

Y/N rose to her feet and walked into my embrace; my arms immediately encircling around her. We faced the large windows of her apartment as we gazed down to the row of houses that their backyards faced her complex; one sticking out like a needle in a haystack. 

“I love that, and I’m very happy you feel safe with me. You’re home to me too, Noah.” 

Y/N then pointed to the one house I was already staring at. “Is that the porch you have your morning coffee on?” 

I chuckled. “Damn straight. I’ll be able to wave to you every morning.” 

These apartment complexes went up across the street from my house about a year or so ago so when one finally went up for rent, I sent the listing to Y/N immediately and she agreed right away; affordable and close by. Within walking distance. 

We spent the next few hours unpacking everything, joking about things here and there, as music played softly in the background. I helped put away some of the wine glasses, taking them out of the bubble wrap and carefully placing them in the cabinets. 

“They’re all even. Nice!” I muttered to myself, admiring my work. 

I turned to get some more when I saw her. Y/N was sitting on the floor fiddling with an object she unpacked herself. She was so beautiful, serene, so sweet.

That’s when it hit me. We have never been closer in this time of love, nor communicated more profoundly with one another, than when she would brush silent lips against my shoulder or when I touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep. 

All this time, I fucking knew. 

I wanted to hide what was pushing out of my mouth, what was about to roll off my tongue- I wanted so badly to keep quiet because of the fear of the unknown. 

What if she didn’t feel the same? I couldn’t handle that. Not after everything. 

However, before I knew it, it flew out of my mouth like a crow who was easily disturbed and needed to get to its next destination 

“I love you.”

Y/N nearly dropped the stack of books in her hands when she rose to her feet, ready to set them on her bookshelf. 

“What did you say?” She set the book on the kitchen island between us.

I ran my hand through my hair, a wide smile on my face. “Well, it’s just that I didn’t think this part of my life was ever going to be a thing. I accepted this part of my life would be over or just a series of random hookups until I met you. Everything that happened from the moment our eyes locked in that green room to now just proved to me what I’ve always known. I love you.” 

Y/N jumped onto the counter and slid herself over to me and I stumbled to catch her in time as her lips met mine in a heated kiss, teeth and tongue clashing. 

“I love you too,” she admitted against my lips.

My heart soared into my throat and I cupped her face. “Fuck, you do?” 

She nodded. “I’ve known for a while now but was too afraid to admit it. But now that I’m here with you, creating these two different homes with you, I know I can't hide those feelings anymore.” 

I lifted her from the counter, my arms resting underneath the swell of her ass, and began leading her towards the bedroom. 

“I love you, Y/N.” I nipped at her bottom lip. 

She moaned, scratching her nails against the skin behind my neck. “I love you too, angel.” 

With a wink, I tossed her onto the bed. “I like your bed. How about we break it in?” 

I kicked the door shut with my foot, the sounds of our love echoing through the new space, creating a home here for the two of us.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens reader

[miyseung]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology. 

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure. 

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it. 

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself. 

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler. 

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier. 

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking. 

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something. 

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time. 

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won’t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression. 

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously. 

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though. 

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately. 

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen. 

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning. 

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back. 

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her. 

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes. 

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears. 

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation. 

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon. 

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do. 

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious. 

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off. 

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous. 

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang. 

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted. 

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh. 

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before. 

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

#mallow’s works #mallow’s oneshots #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen royal au #enhypen angst #sungoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon royal au #enhypen fic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon prince au #sunghoon enhypen #kflixnet

[monstersandmaw]

Male dullahan x gn reader (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

OH boy, this is a personal one for me on a number of levels (which usually means it's gonna tank), but here's the first of my five new commissions - this one is for the incredibly supportive and sweet @doomfisthero.

It features one of the Supernatural Biker Gang I mentioned in this post, which a lot of you seemed to like, so I hope you're keen to meet the cheeky, goofball dullahan with a heart of gold! Not gonna lie, I went way over the agreed wordcount for this one because it's the world I've already started building, and it's got characters I've already been thinking of for a while.

Content: gender neutral reader who experiences severe anxiety around being pranked/practical joked, which occurs at one point in the story. There’s no malicious intent or bullying behind the prank, and it gets discussed afterwards. The reader is a writer, doing research for a story about bikers, and has no idea that there's something a little 'extra' about this gang. Their friend, Adi, is dating one of them already, and I hope to write their story soon too.

Wordcount: 9216

“God, this was such a stupid idea,” you muttered as you approached the only shop on that wide, empty side street. Its metal sign swung gently back and forth in a light, autumn breeze, displaying a full moon on a black background, with a cruiser-style motorbike silhouetted in front of it, and the white, artfully-distressed font underneath it read ‘Full Moon Motorcycles’.

A second later, your friend stepped out onto the pavement and you knew there was no turning back. Adrianne grinned at you, so you kicked your feet back into motion and closed the distance between you, offering her a small hug. Your leather messenger bag bumped against your hip with the movement, and you wondered if perhaps you should have left your notebook and stuff at home for this first time. It felt more like an interview than getting to know them, and you were worried the group of unfamiliar bikers might take offence that you essentially wanted to study them for your novel.

“Ready to meet the gang?” she laughed, sweeping her messy, dark blonde hair back out of her eyes. “God, you look terrified. Come on, they’re nice! Except maybe Pixie. Don’t mess with her, but she’s not here today. Or Demon, but even he’s ok when you get to know him, I swear.”

“Not helping, Adi,” you grumbled.

Ever since she’d started working for Dahlia Ink across town about six months ago, Adrianne had been hanging around with the group of bikers who all got their ink done there it seemed, and it had almost felt like serendipity in action when she’d told you about them over coffee last weekend. You didn’t tend to talk much about your writing, even with your friends, but you trusted Adi, and she’d always been supportive of your career as an author, so you’d shyly opened up to her about your latest idea for a story featuring a group of bikers. You did leave out the part where the bikers in your story were mostly vampires and werewolves, with a few other supernatural species thrown in as well. Fantasy had always been your comfort-genre, but people had snickered in the past and made you feel like it wasn’t a ‘serious’ genre that ‘serious’ writers pursued, so you’d omitted it this time while telling her about it.

“It’s the perfect excuse for you to come and finally meet Țepeș then!” she’d blurted excitedly into the foam of her cappuccino, her green-brown eyes going wide with excitement at the idea of including you in her group of new friends. They all had weird nicknames, and you had no idea if it was a ‘biker’ thing or just a ‘them’ thing, but you’d been burning up with curiosity about them ever since she’d first started dating the one called Țepeș. “I’ve been dying to find an excuse for you to come meet him. Plus you can ask him anything you want to know for your story, and — oh…”

Her face had fallen, and you’d frowned, heart dropping already. “What?”

“Eh, he’s… he’s not completely non-verbal, but Țepeș doesn’t exactly find talking easy. Maybe you could come to the shop and meet the rest of them instead though? I’m sure Pickle or Pumpkin would love to talk your ear off about their bikes…”

“I dunno, I don’t want to get in the way,” you’d said, trying not to let that tiny, kindling ember of hope in your chest wink out completely. “But if you wanted to ask them…?”

She’d run it past her boyfriend, and Țepeș had said he’d ask Hank. Hank, apparently, was the guy who ran the bike shop where they’d all met and first formed their group, and two nights later, you’d got a text in all caps from Adi saying ‘BASIC BIKER 101 FOR WRITERS IS ON!!!! When are you next free?!!!’

A week later, you and your messenger bag with notebook and pens had shown up outside Full Moon Motorcycles, with little clue what to expect, and a heart full of trepidation.

Adrianne giggled as she ushered you inside, and to your relief, you found there were only two other people inside instead of a shop full of strangers. An array of bikes for sale was lined up around the right hand side of the space, and against the back wall there was a wooden counter almost like a bar, where the vintage till and a few key chains were displayed, while the left side of the space appeared to be a more general spot for tinkering and hanging out. Even with the light flooding in through the two huge, picture windows on either side of the door, the lighting was soft, and the polished concrete floor created a mellow atmosphere. The scent of coffee and motor oil hung heavy in the air, and you found it oddly comforting as you soaked it all up.  

Behind the counter, a stocky man with greying, wavy hair that wasn’t quite long enough to tie back but was too long to look tidy smiled you and raised a meaty hand. His blue tartan shirt stretched precariously over a hearty paunch, and he exuded a jovial kind of warmth as his honey-brown eyes crinkled. “Hey there,” he said. “I’m Hank, though most people round here just call me Dad —”

“— he adopts literally everyone who walks through that door, so congrats on joining the family,” Adi laughed.

“Take your pick on names,” Hank chortled. “I understand you’re a writer…” He seemed interested and a little impressed, which was a bit of a confidence boost.

“Yeah,” you croaked and cleared your throat. “Yeah… uh… thank you for letting me hang out here for a bit. I don’t know anything about bikes… I’m just looking to learn a bit so it makes sense for my novel, you know? I’m not going to get in anyone’s way.”

“Oh, you’re fine,” he smiled, gesturing dismissively with his massive paw of a hand. “You just ask what you like and we’ll do our best to help you out. You must know Țepeș already if you’re Adi’s friend?”

You shook your head and Hank looked across the room to where the other person was lurking at the back of the space. You hadn’t noticed Adi leaving your side, but when you turned around, you found her standing with both hands pressed fondly against the chest of the tall, imposing biker dressed all in black and wearing his helmet too, which you thought was an odd choice. But what did you know about the habits of bikers? You were there to learn after all; learn and observe.

Adi waved you over, and you swallowed your nerves and cast Hank a farewell glance before approaching. When Adi stepped back, Țepeș pushed himself off the wall and held out his hand to you to shake. It, like the rest of him, was covered in leather or padded gear. There wasn’t a scrap of skin showing on him anywhere, and with your own face reflected in his black visor, it was impossible to get a read on him.

As if she’d read your mind, Adi smacked Țepeș in the chest with the back of her hand and said, “At least put your visor up, you big, intimidating doofus.”

He snorted a silent laugh and lifted the catch on his visor to reveal a sliver of pale skin and irises as black as the rest of his leather gear. Like Hank’s though, his eyes were kindly, and he closed them briefly as he inclined his head in a kind of apologetic bow. You shrugged, and he laughed breathily.

Hank chose that moment to come over, and you jumped as he clapped you on the shoulders. How a man built like a grizzly in autumn had moved so quietly was a mystery. “Come on, Țepeș, why don’t we give our new friend a demonstration of how a bike works? Since your Ducati is in, why don’t we use that?”

Țepeș gave a quick nod, and ducked away through the door that stood in the centre of the back wall, and a moment later, he pushed an absolute monster of a bike out into the empty space. He jutted his chin towards the front door, and Adi nipped over to open it for him, and when you frowned, she laughed. “That Streetfighter is so fucking loud,” she snorted. “You do not want him starting it up in here.”

“And nor do I!” Hank called, now mysteriously back behind the till though you hadn’t heard him leave. You made a mental note to weave something like that into your story for the supernatural biker characters, and then nodded, feeling sheepish, and followed the two of them out of the shop and onto the quiet side-street outside.

Until six months ago, Adi hadn’t known anything about bikes either, so she used your introductory tutorial as a kind of test for herself, interspersed with little glances up at Țepeș to check that she’d got it right. He either nodded or pointed to correct her, but he didn’t speak. She hadn’t been kidding about him being mostly non-verbal.

After Adi had shown you the basics of the bike’s anatomy, Țepeș patted the seat of the bike and gestured to her to get on it, but she laughed and shook her head. “No way, babe. I’m way too short.”

He put his fists comically on his hips and shook his head, then patted the seat again like he was trying to get a wilful cat up onto a chair.

She made a noise of protest, but did swing a leg over and then hoisted herself evenly into the seat, both legs dangling freely a good way off the ground.

“Happy now?” she shot at him and he nodded emphatically, bringing both hands to the sides of his helmet in a way that mimicked a person losing their mind over a cute kitten. “You’re lucky I love you, you overgrown dork,” she muttered. “Anyway,” she said, turning back to you. “Since this beast has made me get up here, I’m going to start his bike. Not so funny now that I could actually fuck it up, is it?” she grinned.

Țepeș remained perfectly still, and you got the impression it was a comical warning.

“I can’t flat-foot it,” she said to you, “So I’m gonna rest my left foot on the curb after I’ve flicked the kickstand up,” she said. “You can’t start most bikes with the kickstand still down.”

You noted that down, and let her get on with the rest of the sequence uninterrupted, which seemed a lot more complicated than you’d imagined.

Near the end of your tutorial on how to start a bike and the basics of clutch control, and the apparent struggle to find neutral, the sound of a number of approaching engines tore through the quiet afternoon. You looked back over your shoulder to see three sports bikes round the corner and make their way towards you.

The three riders couldn’t have been more different. The one you noticed first was riding a big, brash, bright orange bike that reminded you a bit of a sporty looking dirt bike, and he was wearing, of all things, a black and white cow onesie, with a cow helmet cover complete with fabric horns and ears.

“Fucking Pumpkin,” Adi laughed. “Honestly. I think you’ll love him.”

“Pumpkin?” you asked, wondering how on earth he’d got that name. Then again, Țepeș was a pretty unusual nickname. Perhaps he was a vampire under all that leather, shielding himself from the fury of the sun with his biker gear just so he could spend more time with his human lover during the day… You yanked your over-active imagination back into the present and out of your fantasy novel, and watched the trio of bikers approach down the quiet side street.

“Yeah, Pumpkin’s his name. It’s because he’s a —” Țepeș elbowed Adi in the ribs sharply enough that she had to grab the handlebars to stop herself toppling off his bike. Her eyes went wide and she instantly clicked her jaw shut.

As an author, you were used to watching and studying people, and noting your observations for later. Another writer you knew online had called it ‘cataloguing the everyday’, and it was an apt description. Adi had very nearly given away something huge about Pumpkin, and Țepeș had given her a silent but stern warning.

“Because he loves pranks, like on Halloween?” she finished a little too quickly. “He dresses up with silly helmet covers all the time and he likes to play jokes on people.”

Maybe he wasn’t your kind of person at all. The very idea of having a practical joke pulled on you was enough to make you feel sick and shaky all over. You'd always hated them, and they’d always left you feeling devastated and on-edge if they happened to you. The more you trusted the person, the worse it felt afterwards.

Țepeș’ huge hand landed carefully on your shoulder joint and you looked up to find him smiling reassuringly at you. At least, you thought he was smiling reassuringly. All you could see were his glinting black eyes that were creased at the corners, and the way the apples of his pale cheeks were slightly more squished than usual behind the padding in his helmet.

You tried out a smile of your own, and then realised that Adi was talking again.

“He’s such a goofball, but that’s got to be his craziest outfit yet! You should see his other helmet covers; they’re all bonkers. My favourite is the pink rabbit one.”

Țepeș nodded once in agreement and let go of your shoulder. You swayed a little at the loss, feeling untethered.

“The guy on the red Ducati is Demon, and the short one on the Ninja in the middle is Pickle.”

When the newcomers spotted the three of you standing around Țepeș’ bike, Pumpkin revved raucously, almost seeming to make his bike laugh with joy at the sight of you. Then he hauled it up into a massive wheelie, only dropping back down once he’d torn past you in a near-vertical pose. Your heart was in your mouth the whole time, but he looked relaxed and even amused behind that absurd costume as he landed it and swerved the bike around to make his way back towards you while the other two came over in a more sedate fashion. In fact, they were so sedate it reminded you of two sharks approaching, and your mouth went dry. Adi had said they were cool with you being there and asking questions, but just then, it didn’t really feel like it.

The one riding the lurid, neon green bike was so short that you wondered for a crazy second if maybe they were a child. The owner of the red bike revved his something wicked as he cruised to a stop, and you had to fight the urge to step back. It felt like being roared at full in the face by a lion, and it didn’t help at all that the guy had curling ram’s horns adorning his black helmet. Even though it was a nippy autumn day, he was wearing a white t-shirt that showed off a golden tan and a truly impressive physique, and his black jeans had a rip in the knee that added to his tough-guy appearance.

Standing beside his own bike, Țepeș folded his arms and jutted his chin in a warning. Demon revved his deafening bike once more though, and the back wheel skimmed from side to side on the tarmac as blue smoke churned up into the air.

Țepeș shook his head and a few seconds later, Demon stopped his mini burnout, and instead leaned forwards on the bike, resting one arm casually on the tank. His whole attention was fixed on you and you tried hard not to regret all of this. It was research. You were here for your story. It was fine. His visor was tinted like Țepeș’ was, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze through the plastic just as clearly as if there had been nothing blocking his eyes from yours.

“Just giving a welcome to your new friend, Țepeș,” the guy purred in a silky baritone that made you think of teeth in the dark.

As the brief puff of acrid smoke from his tyres cleared, the short rider flipped their visor up and regarded you with beady, golden eyes that had to be contacts, surely? Even the pupils were slitted like a cat’s. 

“Who’s this?” came a reedy, tenor voice from under the helmet. Definitely not a child after all, and their skin had a strange, greenish tinge to it that you initially took to be makeup until you realised it went all the way down their cheeks as well. Tattoos? Some kind of condition? You tried not to stare.

Before either you or Adi could respond to their question, the cow onesie rider screeched to a comical halt beside the other two, locking up the front wheel and making the rear of his bike kick up like a bronco, and Adi shook her head. “Pumpkin, honestly. What are you like?”

“I’m Legen-dairy!” he grinned, gesturing wide with both hands. “Oh, hey! New friend?!” he exclaimed, waving enthusiastically when he saw you standing awkwardly beside Țepeș’ bike. He had a lilting Irish accent and a playful intonation that warmed you to him immediately, despite knowing about his penchant for practical jokes.

“Don’t mind Pumpkin,” Adi smiled at you. “He’s… something else.”

“I’m highly a-moo-sing, is what I am,” the guy chuckled. His words sounded clearer than the others behind their helmets, and you wondered if it was something about the design that made it easier to hear him.

“Oh god, please stop with the cow puns,” Pickle groaned, casting him a withering look with those unusual eyes.

“But Pickle, I’m udderly fantastic!”

“Stop.”

“This is just plain bull-ying!” Pumpkin whined, and then he started to bop up and down on his bike as he sang, “My milkshake brings—”

“If you howl one more out of tune word, Demon will eat you for breakfast, and not in a fun way,” Pickle said, casting a glance at the biker with the horns on his helmet.

For answer, the biker in question cocked his head just a little to one side, and Pumpkin slumped in his seat, arms and legs dangling comically, head lolling forwards so that the soft horns on his helmet cover flopped. He let out a long, sad mooing noise sound that dissolved into giggles at the end, and Pickle punched him on the arm.

“Loser,” Pickle snorted with obvious fondness.

“Anyway, I want you to meet my friend,” Adi cut in, turning to you. “I’m sorry you had to meet Pumpkin when he’s in this mood, but —”

“Moo-d!” Pumpkin interrupted triumphantly and immediately burst out laughing. He almost tipped backwards off his big, orange bike. Even you managed to crack a shy smile at that one. It was infectious.

“I give up,” Pickle said, and hopped down off his green Kawasaki, disappearing into the shop without a backward glance just as Hank stepped out.

“How’s that lesson going?” he asked you.

“I’m not planning on riding solo any time soon,” you smiled, “But I’ve got enough of an idea of how things work to start writing, I think.”

Hank nodded and, glancing around at Pumpkin who was still bouncing up and down and making his suspension creak a little, said, “Ah, they’re all idiots, but they’re kind, and they’re my idiots.”

He introduced you by name, and told Pumpkin and Demon why you were there. Pumpkin seemed intrigued, tilting his head to one side and calming his crazy energy a little as he regarded you through the tinted visor, but Demon growled softly as he pushed himself upright again and folded his arms across his ripped chest, muttering something about letting their guard down again.

Țepeș moved away from his bike, petting the back of Adi’s blonde head in a fond, distracted gesture, and then signalled for Demon to follow him inside, which, to your surprise, the big guy did. He walked like a Greek god — like he owned the place and not Hank — but it was clear that he had respect for Țepeș.

Pumpkin took advantage of their absence and leaned a little way off his bike towards you. “So, you’re a writer? That’s pretty cool. And you’re writing a… a book? A story? About bikers?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s not the main focus, but it’s a big part of it.” If you hadn’t wanted to open up to Adi about it being a supernatural fantasy story, you sure as heck weren’t going to admit it to a bunch of intimidating, high-octane bikers. “It was Adi who suggested I come and learn a bit more about it all from you guys though…” you said, not wanting them to think you’d just inserted yourself into their group without invitation. Especially given Demon’s weird reaction.

“Awesome,” Pumpkin said, fist-bumping Adi then turning back to you. “You gonna ride with us? We’re all heading out in a bit so you should come too!”

“I… maybe?” you faltered. That had not been on the cards for the day, but the more you thought about it, the more your heart began to race.

“The KTM has a passenger seat,” Pumpkin said, gesturing behind him and patting his pillion seat. “You can be my backpack if you like! I promise I won’t wheelie. I’m not taking the onesie off though,” he added, mooing and shaking his head so that the fabric horns waggled comically.

His energy and enthusiasm really were infectious. He bounced up and down again like an excitable, cow-print puppy, and you bit your lip. The idea of holding onto him, of being perched on the back of his mad, orange bike, was oddly… enticing. Even with his embarrassing costume.

“Come on,” he said. “It’ll be fun! It’s only a short ride because Coco’s Honda’s playing up for some reason,” he added. “Is she here yet? I don’t see her little bumblebee…”

“Bumblebee?” you asked.

“Coco’s bike is a Honda Hornet,” Adi supplied. “She’s got these little antennae for her helmet too. It’s so cute. And no,” she added to Pumpkin. “You guys are the first.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the day’s riders to arrive, and soon you watched a screaming pink bike roll up, with its rider wearing baby pink leathers and a pink helmet. Her name was Barbie, appropriately enough, and a few minutes later, a skinny guy in all black leathers with a black helmet bearing a decal like a maw full of teeth pulled up, alongside Coco on her black and yellow Honda Hornet that looked very much like the Transformer.

“I see why you call it Bumblebee,” you said to Adi, who was standing on the pavement with you, chatting and slipping you random bits of information about both the bikes and the bikers. The others had all gone inside, leaving you with Adi still casually sitting astride her boyfriend’s enormous, black Ducati Streetfighter outside in the sunshine, and honestly it was nice to catch your breath and let your heart rate settle again.

Pumpkin, apparently, was only a few years older than you, and he had moved to the city to get away from his family and their career expectations for him. His name was actually Callahan, or Cal, but literally everyone called him Pumpkin.

Pickle was non-binary and surprisingly a full decade older than you. They lived with their mother, who needed a bit of extra care these days, and had taken up riding only a year or so ago. Demon, Adi didn’t discuss at all, and she said little about Barbie other than that she kept herself to herself a lot and was pretty shy.

Coco came out to soak up some autumn sunshine a while later, and was one of the only bikers who actually took off her helmet. Beneath it, she had thick, wavy, chocolate brown hair and brown eyes that made you want to drown in them, and a smile so pretty it made your heart skip several beats. She gave off the kind of energy that made you feel safe and relaxed, and you let out a long, slow exhale, feeling the sun wash up over your skin.

That peace lasted until Demon stormed out of the shop, followed by Pumpkin, Țepeș, and Pickle.

“Everything ok?” Adi whispered to Țepeș when he came over and hugged her tightly from behind before passing her a spare helmet. He nodded and jerked his thumb towards his bike. “Yeah, I’m good to go. You coming?” she asked you, and you found yourself nodding before you’d even realised.

“Yes!” Pumpkin bayed in triumph and you startled, not having heard him return to his bike. “You’re mine! I claim you. You’re my backpack!”

“Like anyone else wants a human for baggage,” Demon muttered so quietly you weren’t sure you were supposed to have heard it. As he passed, he slammed his visor back down and you could have sworn that he’d had completely scarlet eyes. You wondered if you were losing your mind a little bit, or if the fantasy of your novel was beginning to bleed into the real world through your over-active imagination.  

Pumpkin practically vaulted back up onto his orange bike and he held out his hand to you. “Alright! My precious and beautiful backpack,” he said, “Hop on!”

Easier said than done, you thought, ignoring the compliment. You watched your reflection distort in his visor as he turned his head when you faltered anxiously.

“I’ll look after you, I promise. But I’m gonna rely on you to tell me if Pickle’s coming for my killswitch, ok?”

Recalling your brief lesson with Țepeș, you eyed the red switch on his right handlebar and said, “That?”

“Yeah, that. Protect it at all costs,” he giggled. “I mean, not all costs, obviously but… Actually, scratch that. It’s Ninja you wanna watch out for. He’s a sneaky, sneaky boy. He blends in so no one sees him coming…” A few of them laughed in a way that made you feel like there was more to it than just an inside joke, and your stomach churned.

A glance back at the skinny guy on the black bike behind you revealed Ninja tilting his hands outwards in a ‘who, me?’ kind of gesture. Hank came over and gave you a helmet, taking your messenger bag from you and promising to keep it safe behind the counter. You slid the helmet on and buckled it up, trying not to feel like an impostor.

Getting aboard wasn’t as hard as you’d thought it was going to be, with brief instruction from Adi and Pumpkin on how to put your feet on the pegs, though you did clunk your helmet against Pumpkin’s when you leaned too far forward, but he made things easier by telling you to hold him round the waist. He turned back over one shoulder and said, “It’s kinda forward, but I don’t mind. You’re cute and I don’t want you falling off.” He had such a lovely voice — warm and rich and reassuring — and you found yourself laughing softly.

“If you say so.”

Pumpkin talked a mile a minute and you really had to work to process everything he was saying as it tumbled out of him in a wild, happy torrent. “You are cute! You’re gonna have a blast today. I can’t believe I’m your first! Oh, and watch out for silly string too. I don’t think Pickle has any in their pocket today, but last time they got me good and it was all over my helmet and my orange baby,” he added petting the tank of his bike.

Your heart lurched at the idea of these pranks maybe escalating, and you tried to swallow down the nausea; you did not want to be sick in a motorcycle helmet. The cold sweat took a while to evaporate and you were sure Pumpkin would feel your heartbeat as you clung onto him before he’d even started the bike. The cow onesie did add a little levity though, and you tried not to feel too silly.

When Adi was safely aboard Țepeș’ bike, Țepeș revved his readiness a few times from the rear of the group, and Pumpkin nodded. “Forward!” he yelled, pointing like he was leading a cavalry charge as he nudged up his kickstand and prepared to draw away.

Adi had been right.

The ride was amazing.

Terrifying, exhilarating, wonderful, and, in the strangest way possible, it made you forget everything.

All you could focus on was the way Pumpkin moved with the bike like it was a part of him — almost like a rider and his horse — and on trying to move with him as he leaned into the corners. He was slim and fit beneath your grip, and he didn’t seem to be wearing any kind of padding under the onesie, but he was wearing biker boots instead of ordinary shoes. There was something alluring about the fact you’d not seen his face and he’d not taken his helmet off. Țepeș had a similar vibe, but it was Pumpkin and his wild, silly energy you found yourself drawn to. It was almost euphoric to be able to press the front of your body against this kind, funny stranger’s back and let him sweep you along the roads.

Of course, there were shenanigans at the first red light you came to.

Pickle came for Pumpkin’s killswitch immediately — almost like they were testing you — but you tapped Pumpkin on the shoulder when you saw Pickle stalking up the line of bikes. Ninja covered his killswitch and waggled a finger at Pickle, and when Pumpkin saw who was coming, he patted your thigh a few times. “Nice one,” he said with a grin evident in his voice. “Best early warning system and best backpack ever! You can ride with me every time!”

You glowed with pride, even though you knew it was probably only fun and games, and when Pickle failed to catch Pumpkin’s killswitch and the lights changed, you laughed with the rest of them as Pickle bolted back to their Ninja and hopped comically onto it at the very last second while Pumpkin sped away fast enough to make you yelp and grip him hard around the middle. You felt him laugh and held him tighter.

He petted your hands where they were laced securely in front of him, and even though you didn’t have comms in your helmet, you got the message: ‘I’ve got you’. You did feel safe with him despite his love of pranks, and you were literally trusting him with your life as you rode behind him.

When the ride came to an end about an hour later, and the group drew to a halt at Full Moon Motorcycles again, you were shaky with the aftereffects of adrenaline and from simply holding on, but beneath your helmet, you were grinning wildly. Secretly, you already couldn’t wait for the next ride and prayed he would ask you again.

Pickle pulled their bike up on your right, the green Ninja 400 idling gently, and when they killswitched Pumpkin’s bike at last, Pumpkin guffawed, but without missing a beat he extended his right leg and tapped the gear lever down to put Pickle’s bike into first, making the bike stall and lurch forwards.

“Gotcha!” he crowed, and then helped you off the back by letting you steady yourself on his shoulders. “And for the pièce de résistance,” he said, fishing in the pouch of his onesie, and he turned something cylindrical in your direction. “I was saving this for Pickle, but since it’s your first ride, you deserve a decent celebration!”

With a loud bang and a flurry of coloured squares of paper, a confetti cannon went off in your face and you screeched in shock, tripping over your heels and landing hard on the pavement behind you. The pieces of paper fluttered down around you while panic and fear and everything you hated about being pranked exploded out of you. Your heartbeat went through the roof. You just glimpsed the horns of Demon’s helmet in the doorway to the shop, and your heart dropped when you saw he was laughing.

Pumpkin was laughing too, and pointing, and beside him Pickle clapped their gloved hands and crooned, “Oh man, he got you good!”

He had got you good, and you hated it.

You hated that it was just a silly, harmless prank, but you were reacting like he’d done something serious. You hated that you couldn’t just laugh it off the way they all did. You hated that you took it so seriously; that it felt like the worst kind of betrayal of that fragile trust you’d started to put in a stranger. And then, behind the visor of your helmet, the tears began to flow uncontrollably.

A huge figure appeared in your blurred vision and you looked up to find Țepeș kneeling down beside you. He blocked the others from your sight with his massive body, and he lifted his visor to show his black eyes full of concern.

You nodded, trying to pull yourself together and grateful beyond belief that the helmet was still covering your face, even though it felt like you were running out of oxygen in there. Pulling yourself together was like trying to hold a bag full of sand with fraying seams. You were seeping and spilling out all over the place and you couldn’t stop. You tried to tell yourself it was just a confetti cannon. You tried to tell yourself it was just a bit of fun.

You tried, and failed.

“I’m… I’m ok… I’m…” you gulped, aware of how choked your voice sounded.

Țepeș stood and held out a hand, pulling you to your feet and ushering you carefully inside. You didn’t miss the way he put himself between you and Demon, who was still snickering in the doorway, and you let him lead you into the shop and into the back room.

He snagged a box of tissues from under the shop’s counter in passing and guided you into a chair. He signalled for you to undo your helmet, which you did with shaking fingers. “I’m sorry,” you gulped as you drew it off over your head and set it on the floor. “I’m sorry I’m overreacting.”

Țepeș shook his head and squeezed your shoulder, offering you a tissue.

“It’s just a prank, I know that, but…”

Again, he squeezed your shoulder, and you took a deeper, steadier breath.

“I hate pranks. Even the harmless ones. I always overreact like this. I’m sorry. It’s not his fault, but… I thought… I thought maybe he… he wouldn’t…”

A knock on the door made you jump, and Țepeș made a ‘stay there’ gesture with his hand and ducked out of the room. A short, seemingly one-sided conversation passed outside while you fought to control yourself again, and then Pumpkin ducked inside.

“Hey,” he said, and your heart broke a little at the change in his energy. It was like he’d completely deflated. He was still wearing the cow onesie though, which brought a slightly hysterical chuckle to your lips before you could stop it. “I’m so sorry,” he said, dropping to one knee in front of your chair. “I… I didn’t think you’d react like that.”

“It’s not you,” you said, sniffling and turning away, cuffing at your eyes. “I just overreacted.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he said, and your brain screeched to a halt.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have done it to you. I didn’t know if you were cool with it, and I just assumed that… that because everyone else likes my pranks… that you’d be ok with it too, and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll never ever pull anything like that on you again. Ever.” He crossed his thumb across his heart. “I swear on my True Name.”

The wording was odd, but the air seemed to crystallise around you for a second, and your breath caught. “Like a Fae,” you mumbled without thinking.

He tilted his helmeted head a little. “Yeah,” he said and his voice had an odd ring to it. “You… You know about… about the Fae?”

“I’m writing a book…” you croaked, not really thinking about what you were saying. “Supernatural theme… I’ve always written fantasy stuff… Look, I’m sorry. I’m over-sharing about stuff that isn’t even real. I’m good,” you said, and stood up abruptly, setting your borrowed helmet down on the chair and turning to look at him. He was on his feet again, but he was just standing there.

You walked out into the main shop but he called your name and you halted and turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Are… Are you gonna come back?”

You bit your lip. You probably had enough to write the book now — the biker part of it wasn’t even the main focus after all — but until the prank, you’d felt included and welcomed, and, as you thought about it, the prank had also been meant to welcome you into the fold. It wasn’t Pumpkin’s fault that you had reacted the way you did.

“You want me to?” you asked.

“Please,” he said. “Please, I’d love it. I’ve… I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted to be my backpack before, and you rode like a natural today,” he added, taking a step towards you. “Please. I promise no one will do any pranks when you’re with us. No silly string, no confetti cannons.”

“I don’t mind it… With the others, I mean,” you said, the words grinding out of you like a boulder uphill. “I mean… So long as it’s not me.”

“Ok, we’ll dial it back,” he compromised. “I’ll even give you one of my little stretchy sticky hands if you like so you can team up on Pickle with me. We duel at the lights sometimes. Does that count as a prank?”

You shook your head, fighting back a resurgence of emotions, mostly good this time.

“Ok. I’m really sorry,” he said again.

“I believe you,” you said.

“Thank you,” Pumpkin replied, his whole body looking relieved. It was amazing how expressive someone could be, even without being able to see their face. “Let me give you my number and I’ll text you when we’re going out next. Or… Or maybe we could go out just the two of us?”

That seemed like way more pressure than you’d been expecting, but you nodded all the same when you realised you weren’t put off by it at all.

As you left the shop not long afterwards, having recovered enough to let the red fade from your eyes, Demon looked you up and down and then approached Pumpkin. You glanced back over your shoulder to see him looming down over Pumpkin, and you just caught him growling, “What happens when you need to take that helmet off eh, Dullahan? You think that cute accent is going to be enough to hide the fact you don’t have a fucking head under there?”

Your breath caught and you tripped, turning away before either of them could notice your reaction.

For a moment, when Demon had spat the word ‘Dullahan’ you’d thought he’d said ‘Callahan’ — Pumpkin’s real name — but the instant he’d said Pumpkin didn’t have a head, your mind made the connection.

Dullahan.

A Fae without a head, traditionally a headless horseman.

The way Pumpkin had moved with his bike, like it was a living creature, had reminded you of a horse and its rider, and you had to wonder if the nickname ‘Pumpkin’ had come from the cartoonish depictions of Dullahans on Halloween with a pumpkin for a head instead of their real one. They did have a head, you knew from research for your writing, but they tended to keep it hidden since that was where their power resided. They could only be harmed if you hurt their head, or if they were wearing it when you attacked them.

But that was all fantasy, right?

Then Demon’s red eyes flickered across your memory, and the weird emphasis he’d put on the word ‘human’ in his snide remarks, and the way you’d thought maybe Țepeș was a vampire because he kept his skin covered up, and the fact that Pickle’s skin was entirely green and they had gold eyes with cat’s pupils… it was all way too much of a coincidence. Right?

You walked home in a daze, not even saying goodbye to Adi who was talking quietly with Țepeș in the long, late afternoon shadows cast by the bike shop’s wall.

Over the next few rides with Pumpkin, you tried to figure out a way to broach the topic. If you just blurted it out, you had no idea how the others would react, so you dropped little hints to Pumpkin that you were writing a supernatural story and that you’d been researching the supernatural for a while, and how you’d always hoped there was more out there than met the eye. You even mentioned it a couple of times on group rides to see how the others reacted, and predictably, it was Demon who bristled, and Pumpkin who looked uncomfortable. Like he had a secret he wanted to tell you.

Each time you did it, he looked torn, like he was right on the cusp of telling you the truth.

It finally came to an ugly head one afternoon as the riding season drew to a close in late October and you all came back from a huge group ride that had included a few more riders whom you’d not met before, but who evidently knew the rest of the group.

As you went inside to return the helmet that Hank always lent you, you caught the sound of an argument and hung back in the small storage room behind the main shop to avoid it, heart in your throat and the helmet forgotten in one hand.

Pickle was standing in the main area of the shop with their helmet dangling from their hand this time, and you gasped when you saw sharply-tapered ears and a row of pointed teeth in their mouth, and green skin that went all the way down below their collar. Definitely not a tattoo. They looked sharp, their features inhuman; like one of the goblins in your novel. If you’d needed confirmation that they weren’t human, this had to be it.

Pickle was  arguing with Adi and Demon, and Pumpkin was there too, looking helplessly from one to the other of them.

Demon was shouting, and he didn’t have his helmet on either. Perhaps they’d thought you’d already left. The horns that adorned his helmet were… actually attached to his head, not his helmet. He had horns. They obviously grew from his hairline, his black hair waving around them like a river of oil that had a rainbow sheen on it, and his eyes were a luminous, blood-red with slit pupils too. He rounded on Pumpkin like a Wolf on a rabbit. “You think just because we let Țepeș’ little human blood-bag in, we can risk exposing us all to just anyone?” Demon snarled. “I thought you wanted to keep our kind a secret? Now you’re siding with him?”

“Hey!” Adi exclaimed, but Pickle’s lip curled and they turned to her.

“He has got a point, Adi, though the blood-bag comment was way out of line,” Pickle said. “We have to be careful, but —”

“This is different,” Pumpkin interjected. “Ok? I’ve never been in love before, and I love —”

“No. It’s not fucking ok! This is the one place we get to be who we are,” Demon countered, his deep voice cracking as he clearly fought off tears. He sounded afraid and upset in a way that went right to your heart. “This is the one place where we can be safe, Cal, and you’re jeopardising it for all of us. And if we start letting humans in, if our secret gets out —”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” Pickle said faintly, staring straight at you watching the argument unfold, stunned. They were arguing because of you. Because Pumpkin had taken a liking to you — in fact, he’d just said he loved you…

A pair of gold eyes and a pair of scarlet eyes stared at you, while Adi stood there hugging herself and looking hurt and unsure, and Pumpkin was standing stock still with his black helmet still on but you knew he was looking at you too. Was he going to defend you, or discard you and stick with his friends? They weren’t human. None of them was human. Demon’s eyes were blaring a violent red and he had horns growing out of his black hairline and curling back over his head, and there was a watercolour patch of red creeping over his golden tan as if he was losing control of his form. And Pickle was apparently some kind of goblin?

“You’re a Dullahan,” you said quietly, looking at Pumpkin. “A Fae.”

“You know?” Demon hissed, taking half a step towards you. “How the fuck do you know?” and then he shoved Pumpkin back with a hand at each shoulder. “You’ve taken your helmet off already? Did you disclose your head’s location while you were at it?”

Pumpkin shook his head vehemently but then he lifted his shiny, black helmet off in what looked like an act of defiance to Demon.

In the void where his head should have been there was a swirl of bluish-green smoke emanating from the stump of his neck, like the aurora in the night sky, and his skin was a dark, slate-blue colour. Your mind struggled to accept what you were seeing, but with the additional evidence of Pickle’s green skin and Demon’s horns, you knew it all had to be true.

Walking closer, as if moving through a dream, you ignored Demon’s constant, caged-animal growl, but you did jump when the door flew open and Țepeș burst in. He strode straight over to Adi and wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders, tugging her close and putting himself between her and the others. He cocked his head in an impatiently curious manner and Adi answered his silent demand.

“Demon’s laying into Pumpkin about flirting with a human while hiding what he is,” Adrianne said, glaring flatly at Demon. “And he called me your blood-bag,” she added.

Țepeș’ fists curled, leather creaking, and he took a long, slow inhale, as though he was trying very hard not to lose control and launch himself at Demon.

Before anything else could happen, someone clapped their hands abruptly from the side of the shop where the till and the bikes were arrayed, and you all jumped.

Hank was standing there and his eyes were glowing golden. “This family is built on trust,” he said in a low, gravelly bass, and you saw that his canines were chunkier and longer than they usually were, and his hair seemed thicker and fuller, his beard a little bushier around the chops. “And if we welcome each other into it, we must be prepared to trust each other’s judgement.”

“We’re just a little research project!” Demon said, rounding on you. “Adi told you what we are, didn’t she, so you thought you’d come and study us like a science experiment?”

You were still staring at Pumpkin’s empty collar and wondering in an odd, detached kind of way where it would be considered polite for you to look now — did you look at the point where his eyes would be if he had a head, or did you look at his chest? Only a second or two later did Demon’s words filter through and you blinked. “What?”

“You’re writing a fucking book about us! How does that count as trustworthy?”

“I’m not — It’s not about you,” you shot back. “The book isn’t about you. The protagonist is dating a vampire who’s in a biker gang, but… Adi didn’t tell me anything at all about you. I didn’t know you weren’t human until… until I overheard you accusing Pumpkin a few weeks ago. You said something about not having a head under his helmet, and you called him a Dullahan.” You swallowed thickly and watched the shock filter through everyone’s expressions at your words. “At first I thought you were saying his name, but then I realised you said ‘Dullahan’, not ‘Callahan’, and because I’ve looked into supernatural stuff, I put two and two together. I’ve known for weeks,” you said, chest heaving as you fought to maintain some semblance of composure while you finished your defence. “I could have said something, or I could have just not come back, but I trusted you guys.” Tears finally blurred your vision. “You treated me like family. Why would I betray you?”

Pumpkin moved first.

He strode across he space, dropping his helmet on the floor with a loud crack that would have made anyone who needed a helmet to protect their head wince, but you figured his was purely for decoration and disguise anyway. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you close to his body. His arms almost lifted you off the ground and he cradled your head in one hand while his left arm curled around your waist and squeezed you so tight you gave a little wheeze.

His voice came from nowhere in particular, just like it did when he had the helmet on, and he said, “You are family. And I love you. If I have to leave this one to be with you, I will.”

Your heart stopped for a moment before you hugged him back, desperately. “Don’t. Not for me.”

He only hugged you harder.

From somewhere off to your left, Hank gave a low, rumbling growl and then muttered, “Kids. Honestly.” Then a little louder, he said, “Demon, go and cool off somewhere. Țepeș, for God’s sake, stand down, and Pickle, go and put the fucking kettle on. I need a cup of tea with half a bottle of whisky in it after all this drama.”

Pumpkin drew back at last, and you looked up at the haze of blue-green smoke that seemed to swirl upwards in a constant stream, like a recently extinguished candle. “How can you see me?” you asked. And then, with a little more alarm in your tone, you yelped, “Wait, how can you see where you’re driving?”

He laughed and leaned in close enough that the aurora-light swirled across your vision and caressed your face with a feather light breath, and you shivered. “Magic,” he whispered.

Demon hadn’t gone anywhere, and was regarding you with a more level gaze. His eyes were still red though. “You knew?” he said. “All this time?”

“Yeah,” you croaked as you refocused your eyes from the magic of the Dullahan’s body to Demon’s very much corporeal body. “I mean, I suspected.”

He sighed, still staring you down. Pumpkin stepped a little in front of you, much as Țepeș had for Adi, but Demon shook his head. He worked his jaw for a second and then slowly held out his right hand. His skin was red instead of the golden tan it had been, and his nails were black and claw-like, but the gesture was one of reconciliation all the same. “Welcome to the family, I guess,” he muttered hoarsely.

You smiled faintly, and Pumpkin took your left hand in a show of solidarity, sliding his gloved fingers around yours while you briefly shook Demon’s hand. “I really didn’t know what you guys were when you said I could come and hang out with you, I swear.”

“I know,” Demon bit out. “I can taste a lie, and you’re telling the truth.”

With that, he stalked away and carefully slotted his helmet on over his horns. You realised that there were specially-tailored holes in the crown of it for the horns to fit through, but when it was on, some kind of glamour made it look like the horns were just attached to the surface of the helmet. Outside, he swung a leg over his Ducati and started it up, revving it and launching away amid a scream of tyres and over-worked engine.

“Give him time,” Pumpkin said as he looked down at you. In the swirl of the smoke at his neck you thought you could make out the features of a face for a moment, but you blinked and it vanished. “You’re family now though, so he won’t give you any more trouble.”

“He did just insult Adi pretty spectacularly,” you pointed out.

“And he’ll apologise to her,” Pumpkin said. Țepeș loomed threateningly beside Adi in silent agreement. “For now, you want to come for a ride with just me? Come back to my place maybe?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Bet you have questions too…”

“You going to fact-check my novel for me?” you asked with a playful smile, and Pumpkin laughed. It felt right to hear his loud, giggly laughter filling the space again.

“You’d actually have to let me read it for that, love, and you said you didn’t like showing your work to anyone until it was done.”

“I could make an exception for you, I guess,” you admitted with a bashful smile.

With Pumpkin still holding your hand, you paused on your way out to check on Adi, who looked a little hurt but otherwise alright, and you promised to check in with her later. Țepeș handed Pumpkin his helmet, and you let yourself be led from the shop. Your helmet was still in your slightly numb fingers, never having put it down, so you slid it back on with shaky hands.

After climbing with familiar ease back up onto the pillion seat of Pumpkin’s orange KTM, you snaked your arms around his middle and squeezed.

“I’m sorry it all came out this way,” Pumpkin said before he started up his bike. “This was not how I planned to tell you. I had no idea how I was going to break it to you, but that… that wasn’t it. I know you hate surprises, and that was a big one.”

“Not all surprises are bad,” you admitted. “And this one turned out ok in the end. Come on. I want to find out how much I’ve got wrong about the Fae.”

Pumpkin guffawed, his laughter audible even after he’d started up his bike and pulled away.

Turns out, you’d quite a lot wrong about the Fae after all, but Pumpkin was only too happy to put you right over pizza and a movie on his sofa that evening.

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one. If you did, please consider reblogging to show your support as well as leaving a like and/or a comment.

Do you want to see the other members of the group? Remember you can find out more about them here in this early post if you're curious. Tepes already has a love interest, and Ninja the mimic is claimed too, but if you're curious, lemme know!

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#supernatural biker group #dullahan #male dullahan #dullahan x reader #reader insert #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster biker #fantasy biker #biker dullahan #demon #vampire #werewolf

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Hey bestie any zutara fic recs. I feel like I’ve read all the classics.

Hello anon! Oh boy have you come to the right place because I have read several million words of these two dorks falling in love and though I plan to read several million more, I am always down to screech about talented fanfic writers!!! Here are most of my faves, some of which you’ve probably read but my enthusiasm simply needs an outlet. No WIPs to minimize heartbreak.

In the spirit of not recommending too many classics, I’m not including anything from the first page of the Katara/Zuko tag on AO3 sorted by kudos, with one exception. Same rule does not apply to FF.net because nobody visits that site anymore, yet we mustn’t forget our roots!!! 

TL;DR of my Zutara Fic Recs: 

Half Asleep for a Miyazaki-esque adventure romance 

Southern Lights for a sweeping epic where A Song of Ice and Fire meets Middlemarch

Refraction for a swoon-worthy post-war political romance ft. Katara learning how to politick in a patriarchal world 

Stormbenders for a fun undercover romance that is a ZK classic for a very good reason 

Another Word for Alchemy and The Slow Path for hilarious yet emotionally compelling adventures with found family themes 

The Undying Fire for world-building, more Gaang shenanigans, and super satisfying slow canon divergence 

Katara Alone for our fave girl’s post-war Bildungsroman/travelogue/heroic tour

Simple Misunderstanding for a hilarious rendition of Ponytail Zuko capturing Katara and trying to not be a creep

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow for a mostly canon-compliant (so, v angsty) story about the different ways that love can evolve 

And some one-shots and modern AUs I feel like deserve some more love 

Summaries, reviews, and general fangirling under the cut because holy shit this post is long lmao 

Long fics / series: 

Half Asleep, by crushinator | Rating: T | Word Count: 82,335

Summary: Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin's dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams.

My thoughts: this fic, in many ways, is novel quality. The pacing? Immaculate. The action scenes? Exciting and interesting yet super easy to visualize. The characterization? On point. Katara is peak Miyazaki heroine in this, setting out on a quest to the Spirit World to save her boy (who’s not really her boy) from whichever Eldritch horror has him in its clutches. I love the little glimpses we have of the mutual pining between Katara and Zuko, and there are no words to describe how much I love the resolution of Katara and Aang’s relationship in this story. And oh boy, is the climax of the fic super romantic. This is just a really well written, emotionally compelling, tight fic. Deserves to be a fandom classic. 

Southern Lights, by colourwhirled | Rating: M | Word Count: 769,274

Summary: A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.

OR:

The avatar has four heads.

My thoughts: Is it a Bildungsroman? Is it a war story? Is it a politics story? Is it a love story? Is it a friendship story? Is it a story about colonial violence and well-meaning complicity and finding justice in a world where it simply doesn’t seem to exist? Yes to all of the above, because at 700k+ words YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL. You know how Virginia Woolf once said that Middlemarch is one of the few novels written for grownups? Well, Southern Lights feels adult, not because of violence or sex or general grimness (looking at you, HBO), but because it’s fundamentally about having the courage to make choices, live with the consequences, and make more choices, and repeat that over and over again. If Katara is a Miyazaki heroine in Half Asleep, she is full on Daenarys (pre-character assassination) in Southern Lights, a heroine who gets put through her paces yet retains her unwavering resilience to find her place in the world. Katara can be pretty frustrating in this and I know a lot of the commenters on this fic wanted to smack her up the head halfway through, but I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs and her decisions make sense to me even when I also want to smack her for them, and isn’t that a symptom of good writing? I count my lucky stars that I joined the ATLA fandom after this fic is finished (which was only last year!) because I got to binge it in a few days and I have not been the same person since. Deserves classic status. 

Refraction, by caroe3725 | Rating: E | Word Count: 215,249

Summary: Making choices after the war was supposed to be the easy part. Her future decided and neatly packaged based on what everyone else wanted for her, what she should want, too. But Katara’s destiny had a funny way of being exactly what she wanted to run from. (As if anyone needed another Zutara post-finale slow burn after 15 years.)

My thoughts: YES WE DEFINITELY NEEDED ANOTHER POST-WAR ZK SLOWBURN OF SUCH IMMACULATE QUALITY. Both Katara and Zuko’s internal monologues are excellent in this, but I particularly love Zuko’s. The writer is so good at capturing his resolve, his earnestness, and his awkwardness. This is a very restrained fic — no great histrionics — but also incredibly romantic. The first kiss scene made me want to both sigh and screech. I’m also just a huge sucker for “Katara learns politics” which this fic has in spades, with a bonus of very thoughtful gender dynamics. Anyway, if you liked AJ Lenoire’s The Summit or andromeda13’s such selfish prayers, you’d probably like Refraction. Zuko and Katara are very much dumb teens in the beginning portions of this fic, which I personally like because it makes me nostalgic. Oh, and Katara is low key chaotic good in this, which is super in-character and hilarious.

Stormbenders, by Fandomme | Rating: T | Word Count: 171,000+ 

Summary: S3 AU from FBM. Deep in the Fire Nation jungle, the Gaang meets a group of rogue water ninja who send Zuko and Katara on a mission to retrieve Ozai's secret battle plans.

My thoughts: I’m aware that if you asked the average ZK shipper ten years ago what the ship classics are, the answers are probably Stormbenders, His Majesty Prefers Blue, and the Sparrowkeet series. The other classics are good (classics for a reason!), but Stormbenders remains my favourite. It’s funny. It’s exciting. It’s WELL PACED. The ZK relationship grows so organically, which is a huge feat considering this fic was started before we even got The Southern Raiders. The events are a little more adult than the show, but the tone remains very ATLA. There’s a lovely little animatic of the beginning of the scene on YouTube to show you exactly what I mean about the tone and the humour. I am always weak for a well-structured adventure romance, and Stormbenders stands the test of time because it’s just such a well-written fic. 

The Undying Fire, by Boogum | Rating: T | Word Count: 534,665

Summary: "He has the eyes, Princess Ursa." They were half-forgotten words, a whisper of fears never explained. Zuko had dismissed it all as nothing to worry about—until he somehow healed the Avatar. Fire healers weren't meant to exist, except he did. He'd saved the kid's life. Naturally, he wanted answers. Too bad finding them wasn't so simple...

My thoughts: This fic is mostly Gen, and Zutara shows up in the latter half of the series. Despite being a ZK shipper I like plenty of Gen fics too, and The Undying Fire gives me the best of both worlds. I love the world building, the humour, and the slow ramp up of the Gaang friendships. I absolutely love how the canon divergence is so subtle at first and gradually unfurls into something super different, yet retains much of its ATLA charm. Boogum’s written some other bangers too, and I have to give honorable mention to Zuko’s Tiny Dilemma (where a spirit transforms ponytail Zuko into his six-year-old self, and Uncle into a teapot, and somehow it becomes an emotionally compelling 100k word saga) and Following Blue (season 2 canon divergent Bluetara with a bigger focus on romance). 

Katara Alone & associated fics by cablesscutie | Rating: T | Word Count: 86,890

Summary: The war is over, and with it goes the only life she has ever known. In this era of love and peace, the world is becoming new, and Katara is unsure of her place in it. That's okay though. Katara has rebuilt her life from scratch before, and she will do it again.

My thoughts: I love post-war “Katara sets out to find herself and also finds Zuko” fics. Katara Alone is a fabulous coming-of-age story with some good old fashioned letter flirting during Katara’s solo travels. The sequel, Lady of the Tides, has some very thoughtful depictions of Katara’s place within the post-war Fire Nation, and the accompanying story from Zuko’s POV, The Fire Lord at Home, hits all my buttons. Like…Zuko is Fire Lord Good Boy! He passes legislation! There is political optimism! Swoon. 

Another Word for Alchemy, by FanPanda 13 | Rating: T | Word Count: 108,000+ 

Summary: Five years have passed since the Avatar defeated Fire Lord Ozai, and the members of the Gaang have all gone in their own direction. But when Aang invites them all to a Peace Summit at the North Pole and tells them of his new project, for which he will need their support, the group comes together again for adventure, fun and romance. AU. Zutara. COMPLETE.

My thoughts: Now this is a fic that thoroughly crept up on me. The first 3/4 is good old fashioned fluffy, funny, fourth wall-breaking Gaang shenanigans with plenty of Zutara. But the last quarter? Oh boy does it come right at you and slam you in the solar plexus with the platonic love and found family feels and the complexities of those feelings when you’re a teenager. The impact of Aang’s loss of the Air Nomads is treated very thoughtfully here, way more so than in the show. 

The Slow Path, by TazmainianDevil | Rating: T | Word Count: 125,723 

Summary: Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind.

My thoughts: This is actually a Taang story with a great ZK subplot. But what I love about it is that the whole Gaang (including Suki ALWAYS INCLUDING SUKI) is superbly characterized. The ZK banter is top notch. I could actually hear their voices in my head in some of the scenes. Their relationship is playful but has plenty of emotional heft. And the plot is exciting and well-developed. My favourite thing, though, is how the author treats Toph’s POV: it’s very thoughtfully written, with consideration towards how she perceives the world.

Simple Misunderstanding, by ShamelessLiar | Rating: T | Word Count: 80,965 

Summary: Katara was captured by Zuko, but there was a lapse in communication. Takes place after The Fortuneteller. Fierce Katara, honorable Zuko, and meddlesome Iroh. Also, music night

My thoughts: Generally I don’t love fics where Katara gets captured, especially by Zuko (just a personal preference, not here to judge). But! I love this one, because…well, the circumstances of Katara’s capture by Ponytail Zuko are simply hilarious. Katara is suspicious and stubborn; Zuko has a one-track mind and doesn’t understand why Iroh is treating his prisoner so nicely; oh, and Aang gets into an amazing side quest with some spiritual animals. The only thing about this story is that it ends a little abruptly since the author was considering a sequel, but it still reads as a standalone fic. The author also wrote His Majesty Prefers Blue and Call Me Katto, two ZK classics, but Simple Misunderstanding is far and away my favourite work. 

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow, by sadladybug | Rating: T | Word Count: 62,026

Summary: It is not the memorial she deserves, nor the one she would want. But it can't be helped. He owns no property in the other nations, and he needed to keep her close. Closer than she was in life, anyway. Zuko's reflections on a life lived and a life that could have been.

Review: sadladybug lives up to the username by creating a sadness so contagious that I have yet to recover from it, and I cope by recommending this fic to other Zutara shippers so that more may suffer like I did. (Stop the cycle? No.) Look — I think there’s something extremely beautiful and poetic about a love that changes in nature and form and expression, but not in intensity and devotion, and that’s what this fic is about. Loved it. Never reading it again. 

One shots: 

There’s a category of canon-compliant Zutara one-shots that are all extremely painful, and I cannot get enough of them: in the next life by we-were-angels, taking place right before Katara’s wedding to Aang; water can heal, water can break by crazyache, about why Katara didn’t attend Yakone’s trial. 

To combat the above, here’s a few funny, fluffy ones that make me cackle: i am older now by ama (who wrote the banger that is The Blackfish and the Dragon), an old!ZK fic that I read to counteract the emotional damage inflicted by psychedelic_aya’s we hold our hearts in silence; all good things start with tea by yodalorian, where Zuko’s hapless Disney sidekick-esque advisors try to get him a wife; And Half at One Another’s Throats by songofhopeandhonor (whose account is deleted), about Zuko’s harebrained proposals to Katara; The Dragon of the West’s Guide to Flirting by bluesunflower44, which is exactly what it says on the tin and the awkward disaster you’d expect. Waiting on a Steady Sun, by nire, is a long version of my favourite tropes: fake marriage + idiots to lovers ft. pining for your spouse. 

I generally don’t love modern AUs, but akaiiko’s talk is cheap (and i’ve got expensive taste), where Katara meets Zuko at a frat party, is a whole damn delight; my old aches become new again by jamesstruttingpotter is a wonderfully indulgent modern AU based on Our Beloved Summer. 

And finally, some season 3 character studies: don’t tell me how to feel by paintingcranes, ft Katara at the Western Air Temple being increasingly incensed at both Zuko trying to be helpful and how other people react to his helpfulness; the other side of mercy by crazyache, where Sokka calls Katara “high-strung and crazy” and that really makes Zuko think; The Silent Garden by romilley (whose WIP The Horizon is also fabulous), where Katara and Zuko avoid their feelings through a reluctant-allies-with-benefits arrangement (ft a way of depicting intimacy and sex that makes me think of Normal People); a deep delight of the blood by eruthros, where Zuko asks Katara to practice bloodbending on him out of pragmatism but also a little bit of guilt (it’s unrated, but that “Kink Without Sex” tag is there for a reason). 

Thank you for asking me for my recs, anon, because I needed an outlet to rave about fanfiction and my irl friends have heard enough. Feel free to ask me questions about specific fics that aren’t on this list: I always love talking to people about fic and I’m always looking for new ones to read!

#Zutara Fic Recs #This post is brought to you by my autism #Which demanded that I swap out my last special interest for ZK fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #Zutara fanfic #Zutara #can i ask you a question?

[katesmemes]

feel free to change any pronouns, etc.

“C’mon now, [Name], lets keep moving.”

“It’s always just been me and [Name].”

“I need you to tell me everything that happened.”

“That’s a lot of money to owe…”

“Just what did you get yourself involved in?”

“Are you in town for a business trip, maybe?”

“Well, when your own life is that dull, you need to get your excitement somewhere…”

“Now, don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“This is exactly the kind of behavior [Name] warned me about.”

“She’s just the worst to every girl she perceives as a threat.”

“So… You’re saying I’m not a threat?”

“I know there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“I have to get back to work.”

“You don’t seem to care whether I’m happy.”

“Curiosity killed the cat…”

“I’m not used to having people around me while I work.”

“Hey, come on, don’t leave me hanging!”

“I’m sorry to add to your plate, but…I really need your help.”

“Are you telling me I should snoop around?”

“Ah, c’mon, a little joke’s never killed anyone.”

“Although it may seem like it, I’m not actually clairvoyant.”

“I’d forget my own head if I didn’t write everything down.”

“The way they look at each other, you can tell it’s the real deal.”

“Maybe it’s because my empathy only goes so far, but… I admire that you’re able to feel for just about anyone.”

“I don’t think I get along with everyone, but some people are worth getting friendlier with…like you.”

“The way you turned that compliment right back around at me, was…masterful.”

“I bet you could make anything look good.”

“Just what could’ve made you empty out your entire bank account?”

“I’ve never seen two people more suited for each other.”

“I need to know I can count on you.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I think my heart stopped beating there for a moment.”

“If you weren’t so pretty, you’d have been out of a job a long time ago.”

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, [Name].”

“I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble earlier…”

“I guess the heart wants what the heart wants…”

“Adults can be so…confusing.”

“I can’t believe it all ends here.”

“Thank you for not giving up.”

“I would never give up on you.”

“Come on, you know I wouldn’t let you down.”

“I’m not sure I understand what the plan is here.”

“I enjoy the occasional, artistic endeavor.”

“I feel like I’m in one of those novels I spend my days reading.”

“I just love trying new things.”

“I could not have done this without you.”

“I’m glad I was able to be of some help.”

“Thank you for everything.”

“Hey, just because I read books doesn’t mean I know everything.”

“That’s a lot sweeter than I expected.”

“I do like a happy ending.”

“We could leave together if you’d like.”

“Even the most put-together person could be an absolute mess on the other side of the door.”

“I like to think that, with me, what you see is what you get.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to bring the lights back on.”

“Hey, you look a bit pale…”

“Is everything okay?”

“you’re not scared of the dark, are you?”

“Maybe you need to sit down, huh?”

“You look like you’re about to faint.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

“Maybe don’t mention that to the police.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before.”

“I’m…ashamed of the truth.”

“Maybe now you can understand why I care so much about you…”

“I’d really like for us to be more than just friends, [Name]...”

“Promise me you’ll be careful with the information you share.”

“Sorry, I was…distracted.”

“I really need you to focus right now.”

“I don’t want to be here all night, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

“I suggest you tell me everything you know.”

“We all struggle sometimes.”

“There was no point in staying if you were leaving.”

“I’m flattered, but that really wasn’t necessary.”

“You’re the most charming person I know!”

“I’m really glad I have you in my life.”

“Sorry, my mind wanders sometimes.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“I just want them to be happy…”

“What the hell’s going on?”

“You can’t do this!”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp starter sentences #rp starters #starter sentences #rp sentence starters #roleplay starters #sentence starters #ask prompt #ask meme #video game sentence starters #this bed we made sentence starters #this bed we made starter sentences

[writing-for-marvel]

In The Margins

Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: At first you’re confused by Bucky’s choice of gift for you, until you look a little deeper.

Warnings: this is meant to be a general holiday gift exchange fic and I’ve tried to make it as holiday neutral as possible but please let me know if I’ve missed something, a little light angst at the start cause it’s me, but other than that just fluff

Word count: 717

A/N: banners by @vase-of-lilies, dividers by @firefly-graphics. I haven’t written in over a month cause work has been insanely hectic so please be kind, I’m a little rusty 💜

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

It was clearly a book.

Bucky’s untidy, and sticky tape littered gift wrapping did nothing to hide the size, shape or pliant feel of the present. You had been gifted enough novels in your life to know there was indeed a paperback book underneath the holiday themed wrapping paper.

And as reading was one of your favourite pastimes, you were excited at the prospect of having a new story to absorb. A complex world with compelling characters you could fall in love with for the first time, the possibility of finding a new author with a fresh and unique style that would capture your intrigue to delve down a rabbit hole of their publications.

As you unwrapped the gift, you were met with extremely familiar cover art. One that had become your greatest source of comfort, an intricate world you loved to get lost in and one you frequently returned to when times were at their toughest. These particular set of words felt like a warm and protective embrace, one that you could alway rely on being there for you when you needed solace.

You chuckled nervously, unsure why he gifted you a copy of your favourite book, one that was clearly secondhand if the crack in the spine was anything to go by.

You already owned a copy that was extremely well loved, and you knew it wasn’t a first edition based on the cover age, so it puzzled you as to why he thought this would be the perfect gift he had teased in the lead up to the holiday.

Bucky knew this was your favourite book, he had listened for hours as you dissected apart the themes, your favourite scenes, the character you identified with most and how their love interest would go to the ends of the world to protect them.

Your heart sank - had he truly not been paying attention all that time?

Perhaps you were being too harsh, maybe he was just one of those people that was terrible at giving gifts.

Every interaction with Bucky always felt as though he knew you like the back of his hand, that he could read how you were feeling as if you were his favourite book.

You smiled at him, trying to avoid that awkward exchange of pretending you liked the gift when in reality it was something you already owned, but he was already on the offence, knowing you well enough to tell you were attempting (and failing) at hiding your true reaction.

“Open it.” He chuckled, as if to say ‘give me a little credit, there’s more to it than that’.

Once you flipped to the first page it dawned on you what Bucky had actually done. Scrawled in the margins of the page was his own handwriting, having underlined certain lines and scribbled annotations beside them.

Flicking through each page his handwriting gradually became messier, but the commentary didn’t abate. And when you finally reached the chapters you loved most, you could tell he had been paying attention during all your rants because his comments included ‘I see your point about…’ and ‘I can see why you adore this part so much’.

Lost in your own little world, you could hear Bucky’s voice in your head as you read his annotations, his chuckle when he underlined certain phrases and wrote ‘this reminded me of you’. The way your heart swelled in that moment could rival when the grinch's heart grew three sizes.

It was the most extensive love letter you had ever received, the person you loved most in the world providing you with his intimate thoughts on a book you treasured with your whole heart. Every time you picked up that book you would never be alone, Bucky would now forever be reading it alongside you.

Tightly clutching the book close to your chest, you finally looked up at Bucky with teary eyes to find his own softly gazing at you, brimming with affection.

“I don’t have any words except thank you. I love it.” Your throat felt dry, though a tear slipped down your cheek. Bucky reached up and carefully wiped it away.

“And I love you.”

Next year you’re really going to have to up your gift giving game if you’re going to outdo him.

#em writes #Bucky Barnes #Bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes x male reader #writing-for-marvel

[strangersatellites]

maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for four

a cute little steddie dads ditty based on this tweet

Steve chuckles under his breath and flips the page. 

He’s got his back against the headboard in the low lamp light. It’s late and he’s reading some goofy romance novel that Max left for him last time she was over. Something about people on vacation. He doesn’t really know or care but it’s kept his mind occupied long enough.

Eddie’s sat at the other end of the bed, taking breaks from lightly strumming his guitar to jot down melodies or lyrics or whatever it is he writes in that notebook of his that he carries everywhere.

When Steve tries to start the next page the words stop being about the shitty hotel the characters are at and they start being measurements, instructions. 

He slams the book closed in his lap and tugs off his glasses, gets Eddie’s attention and meets his eyes, curious.

“Do you think we should’ve gotten chocolate chip instead?”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile and sits his guitar beside him. Huffs a laugh under his breath as he crawls up to wrap both long arms around Steve’s waist.

“Well,” he drags it out, dramatic as always, “Since both of the girls said they liked blueberry better, I’m putting my money on blueberry being the better option.”

Steve’s weighing the options in his head, nodding because he knows Eddie’s right.

“I know, Robbie flips out every time we have regular pancakes but,” he huffs, runs a hand through his hair, “It's pancake day. It has to be perfect. Do we even have syrup?”

Eddie pulls his head back from where he’d rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, his eyes now less amused and more confused.

“Okay, I thought we were stressing because it’s her first sleepover, what in the world is pancake day?”

Now Steve’s the one who looks confused, down-right offended.

“Uh, hello? Didn’t you have pancakes on Saturday morning after every sleepover growing up?”

Eddie wrinkles his eyebrows up. “No? Uncle Wayne woke us up and took us to the diner.”

And, well. Steve can forgive that. 

“Oh. That sounds pretty fun actually.”

Eddie snorts. 

“Yeah it was. It was probably just an excuse for him to go see his lady friend but I wasn’t gonna turn it down.”

Steve laughs and smiles at the thought of a grumpy Wayne trying to hit on the waitress and a child version of Eddie flicking eggs across the table.

“I wish I could’ve seen that.” He drops a kiss to Eddie’s temple before he continues. “When I was a kid, my mom always made a big pancake breakfast with syrup and whipped cream and sprinkles and it was the best part of the sleepover. I’ve always wanted to do that for Robbie.”

Eddie’s smile is soft and he’s tangling their fingers together over his lap. 

“Aaaaaand now that she’s old enough it has to be perfect. That right?”

Steve nods, lets out the breath he was holding in, lets some of the tension seep right out of his own skin and lets Eddie carry it for a while.

Eddie shifts and tugs Steve so that his head is tucked just near where his guitar pick sits in the hollow of his throat.

“Well, lucky for you, when I took the girls to Rob’s room for bed earlier, when I kissed her good night she told me this was the best day ever.” He tightens his arms around Steve and he can hear the smile in his voice. “I think you could feed them cereal and they’d think it was Christmas morning.”

Steve can’t help the smile on his face at the happiness that his daughter brings him. At the idea that letting her friend spend the night is the best day she’s had in the six years of her little life. Thinks that it might be top five days in his own thirty-two.

He snuggles down further into Eddie’s arms and laughs when the man huffs and reaches to turn off the light.

He kisses his chest and closes his eyes.

“Good night, Eds.”

“Good night, baby.”

He falls asleep to the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the hushed giggles down the hall, more excited than he’s maybe ever been.

Eddie’s set an early alarm to go check for syrup.

#you can pry steddie's daughter being named robin out of my cold dead hands #ask me about this hc actually I have lots of thoughts #Steve would be the Ultimate Pancake Dad #you like chocolate chips? got them #blueberries? in the fridge #plain with just toppings? you'll get your own batch #he runs that kitchen like the military #and everyone is better for it #also they do have syrup nobody panic #steddie #steddie fic #gin writes #shot of gin #things I did not proofread and am not going to

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 25

Hi Friends!!

It has been... a week. I didn't get a whole lot of reading done. But I did absolutely adore every single thing I read this week. I think, if I can count, I read 12 new fics this week. Also tried out yet another new format: Author summaries (or my quick one if there wasn't one) included with the rec.

As always you can find all of my previous fic recs here. Feel free to tag me in your fics and I'll add them to my TBR (please understand that my TBR is long as hell and it might take a while for me to get to it)

Fic recs below the (baby) Pedro!

Me and My Husband a Din series by @beskarandblasters

Summary: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

This is the first married!Din series I’ve ever seen (not saying it doesn’t exist, but I haven’t seen it), so this is for my infidelity loving Din Girlies. I love how awkward and just plain bad at flirting Din is in this. And you’ll hear this a lot from me in my reblogs but POOR MAY!! I’m so excited for the rest of this series. 

Oh, Honey a Joel series by @lincolndjarin 

Summary: you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

Oh look Gin is reading another monsterfucking fic…. Shocker. But anywayyyy, I love the buildup in this. It’s got such a good suspenseful plot. And I love that reader goes a lil off the rails and everyone is fuckin gaslighting her aghhhhhh. Oh also baby Ellie is in this and that is adorable. The lore and the worldbuilding in this are to die for, I feel like I’m reading a mystery novel. 

A Heart For Eating a Joel series by @motherofagony

Summary: a vicious raider attack robs you of human connection and lights a fire of destruction in your life in jackson. joel's fixated on you, and your lives tangle. revenge becomes a needful thing.

I love Joel’s characterization in this so much. He’s a grumpy bastard, but he’s got that wonderful protective caregiver thing going on. If you’re a fan of some mild love as consumption, injured men (and taking care of them (joel)), christ side wounds, and gorgeous storytelling this is the one. 

Go Ahead, I dare ya a Javi P two shot by @chronically-ghosted

Summary: 1. No sex. 2. No touching yourself. 3. No orgasms. 4. No murdering your annoying DEA partner. A Javier Peña-shaped riff on that iconic Star Wars fic.

The TENSION!!!! The BUILDUP!!!! This fic drove me crazy dude. It’s so will they won’t they the whole fucking time right up until they do. Javi is perfectly written and reader is a perfect match for his bullshit. 

Wet Work a Frankie one shot by @loversandantiheroes

Summary: Frankie accidentally discovers how to make you squirt

I???? It’s a fic where Frankie makes you squirt three times like what else do I even have to say? It’s on your kitchen table! And you call him a good boy! This fic is devastatingly hot. 

Frankie Breathplay Drabble a Frankie drabble by @ozarkthedog 

Summary: Frankie chokes you while you ride him

Got tagged in this lovely little drabble and ummmm oh my god? Breathplay is a little bit of an understatement for what this is. It borders on dark!frankie (in my personal opinion), which I adore. He’s choking you out while you ride him. Like that’s what’s happening. Asphyxiation but make it sexy. 

Real Gods Require Blood a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

Summary: You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears. His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

CULT JOEL! CULT JOEL!!! I love how fucking scary Joel is in this. It’s like if the stuff that happened to canon joel got all mixed up with some religious trauma and made him go a little crazy. I loved this so much. It was quietly terrifying, beautifully written. I love the ending so much too… not gonna spoil it but AHHHH

The Locksmith a The Thief series by @oonajaeadira 

Summary: A Thief you’ve known for years and have conflicting feelings for brings you a gift. The gift is a not only a puzzle in itself, but part of a larger mystery, one only you can crack.

I’m like 3 or 4 chapters into this series and I love it so much. The Thief with a locksmith reader is just such a good idea and I love how he ropes her into situations. He’s such a smooth talker ugh. The opera chapter? Pls. I gotta go finish this series now actually AH. 

The Haunting of Dieter Bravo a Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

Summary: "ghosts aren't real, except when they are."

As a paranormal horror slut, it really felt like this fic was written for me… (f’me, if you will, Bea). Dieter being Dieter and reader being done with his shit and then they get HAUNTED. I love it. The suspense is so good. I was actually a lil freaked out. 

Everyone at this party's a vampire a Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

Summary: "you look so pretty like this."

This is funny because Dieter is an idiot, but reader is so hot??? Anyway sexy vampire lady lures Dieter’s dumbass into getting murked and it’s wonderful.

Intimidation Tactics a Dave/Marcus P series by @whataperfectwasteoftime

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, are investigating a case that brings you far too close to something much more dangerous than your average art thief. 

I haven’t quite finished this yet (actually just got to the big action scene), but I am so in love with this fic. I already adore the way Penny writes Marcus, but then we get her Dave too. And Dave has all these elements of movie Dave – badass, sexy, a little scary – but we also get to see him be sweet and protective and playful and I love it so much. And then also I think everyone knows I’m a big ol slut for a MMF fic and the dynamic between Marcus and Dave is so fucking good. Little baby enemies to lovers plotline and GOD their chemistry is off the charts. 

Just Friends a Javi P two shot by @joelsgreys

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

I really love the way Vee writes Javi, man. He’s arrogant, annoying, rude, snarky… but also protective, sweet, and very ummmm giving. The banter is fuckin unmatched. And the mutual pining? PLEASE. I’m obsessed. 

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Apologies to anyone whose series I normally keep up with... I've been a lil scatterbrained.

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Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin fics #frankie morales fics #javier pena fics #javi p fics #joel miller fics #dave york fics #marcus pike fics #dieter bravo fics #the thief fics

[dateko]

˚｡⋆ FOREVERMORE | GOJO SATORU

contents — fluff/angst, a lil banter, gojo being a lil vulnerable, a lil late night drive, also reader is implied to be afab!

a/n: — 2k words of not being quite sure what this is other than the fact it made a very angsty turn towards the end which i did not plan for because this fic is a dusty year old draft!!! (pls enjoy regardless hahah)

An incessant, flickering beam makes its way through your window in the quiet of your small, dimly lit bedroom. It appears to be beckoning you, almost like it's trying to call you out. Confused and admittedly a bit scared for your grown age, you close the hefty novel you’d been dutifully reading shut and creep gingerly toward the window. You hide beneath the curtains, careful not to move around too much. Then slowly, you sneak a quick peek at the persistent light outside. 

There, in his expensive imported sports car with a large flashlight in his hold, sits Gojo Satoru and that goofy signature grin of his. The silly man you undoubtedly call your boyfriend and who you, unfortunately, love more than the normal amount. Letting go of the air you’d been holding in with a relieved giggle, you quickly open your window.

“What the hell, ‘Toru! You scared the shit out of me!” You hissed, bringing a hand to your forehead.

“Sorry, Princess!” He calls back, carrying absolutely zero sympathy in his voice, before revealing a familiar bag of sugary drinks and sweet treats to you. “Say… Are you free for a little late-night getaway? I’ve got all your favorites.”

“You’re terrible,” You shake your head in utter disbelief, giggling at how ridiculous he could be. “Hold on, I’ll be down in sec.”

Grabbing your most treasured sweater (a stolen one of Satoru’s) and bag, you bolt out the door and launch yourself down the steps in a love-stricken flurry. Neighbors be damned, you were too excited to even care about the chaos of elephant footsteps you make. As you make your way down the stairs, you can’t help but begin to feel so much younger. Like a high schooler reborn again, you hadn’t realized how much you missed the giddy excitement that stemmed from forgetting your responsibilities. It was almost as if life had always been this thrilling. A late-night drive with your incredibly handsome boyfriend and pretending that you positively did not have a class to teach, plus a gruesome training session with your students waiting for you the following morning. 

And that certainly was Satoru for you. Always sweeping you off your feet and doing everything you didn’t think you needed. He’s always too good, too perfect. The man is always somewhere off where he is required, always somewhere trying his best. Yet somehow, he makes sure to save time for you. Gojo Satoru always goes above and beyond. There is never a limit to the things he does.

Meeting him outside, you walk up to his open window, where his face sports a grin you could spot miles away. “Do you know what time it is?” You squeeze his cheek playfully

“I do.” He blinks, taking your hand to press it flat against his cheek instead. 

“You don’t have… I don’t know… A class tomorrow? Curses to exorcise?”

Satoru blinks twice, now peppering kisses into your palm. “I do.” 

Your brow raises at his response, and you retract your hand to cross your arms. “Then… Shouldn’t you be preparing for that?”

The azure-eyed man sighs, leaning his head against his seatback to stare at you adoringly. “I just couldn’t sleep right... Probably because I’ve been thinking about you too much.”

His cheesy line causes your nose to scrunch up, though you can’t help but feel a pang of worry in your stomach at his words. “On second thought, I’m leaving.”

“Oh, just get in here already.” Satoru whines your name, quick to tug the back of your sweater and pull you in. 

Smiling widely, you enter the passenger seat and immediately slot in your favorite CD before looking at your hopeless boyfriend. “You didn’t really think I’d just go back and leave, did you?” 

“Maybe a little bit,” He shrugs, turning behind him as he reverses the car. “You can get way too intense sometimes.”

You hum in response as you ogle at his bicep and brush off the way he smirks at you. Ignoring the way your boyfriend of many years continues to make you blush like a young pubescent girl at the sight of his muscles, you reach into the bag in front of you to pull out a snack. It’s a surprise Satoru stays rather silent beside you, driving with a soft smile on his lips as he hums along with the familiar tunes you both grew up listening to. It’s strange. There are no cheesy one-liners or teasing remarks. Just him. 

“So where exactly are you taking me, anyway?” You decide to inquire, reaching over to feed him a snack as he keeps his eyes trained on the road. 

“Hey, that’s cheating!” His mouth is full, and you puff dramatically in response as you lean against the door to watch him with a comforting expression on your face. “You’ll see in a bit. Almost there.”

Knowing you’d never be able to beat his stubbornness, you continue to bask in the peaceful drive to whatever mystery location Satoru’s taking you to. You watch him solemnly, eyeing the way his lips hold a small smile, yet as you drive under each street lamp, you don’t miss the sight of how tired he really looks. These days, you see him less, and his missions seem to grow in length. More curses pop up in every direction, more colleagues pass, and with how incredibly undermanned the Jujutsu society is, the burden is inevitably thrown onto Gojo Satoru’s plate. He’s gone before you know it.

It’s unfair and cruel, but it’s what you’ve known your entire life.

A part of you wonders why Satoru even bothered driving when you both know he's fully capable of teleporting. You hypothesize that it is for old times' sake. It was near that certain time of year. While your boyfriend could sometimes be emotional about the past, you're no better. In the backburner of your minds, you both desperately wish you could return to the days of your youth. The very youth you never could grasp, taken from you before you knew it. You were naive and power-hungry, too blind to notice anything else around you, too eager to grow up and have the world grovel at your feet. You wish you could have changed it all. But now, as you watch Satoru, a few years older and a little bit wiser, the only thing you can think about is just how lucky you are to have him here. 

You don’t realize Satoru’s parked already when you blink at the feeling of his thick fingers flicking your forehead, and you hear the click of his seatbelt. “Jeez, Babe. I know I’m handsome, I can hear you thinking too hard in that pretty little head of yours.”

Scoffing, you brush his hand away as you exit the car, taking the snack bag along with you. “What makes you so sure I was thinking about you?”

“You’re really asking me that? You love me.” He answers confidently, grinning wide until his dimples show when you catch up to him to wrap yourself around his arm. Your hand interlaces with his so effortlessly, not an ounce of infinity between the two of you. Never with you.

“Yes, Satoru. I love you so much that I’d let you take me to…” Your eyes scan around the dark trees and eerie silence. You wouldn’t be surprised if Satoru dragged you on one of his extra missions. “...A deserted forest?”

“Just a little further. You’ll know it when you see it.”

Not once letting go of your hand, Satoru leads you up a hill that overlooks the entire city. It’s quiet during this hour of the night. The city below you seems to be blanketed in a hush of tranquil sleep, yet the lights stay on wide awake and alert. You realize you rarely gave much thought to the world like this. The world you’ve all fought so damn hard to keep together and safe. The very world that only seems to take and never give.

A chin rests on your shoulder, strong arms find a comfortable home around your waist. “Know where we are, Sweetheart?”

You ponder for a moment, letting the night breeze kiss your cheeks. “This is the exact spot where I launched you during the sister-school event.” 

“What? No, it’s not.” Satoru pouts as he squeezes you tighter. “Okay, maybe. But you’re still missing something.”

You place a playful finger to your lips, looking up at him. You know exactly where you are. This very spot served as a haven for what you could call your rebellious youth. “Ah! This is where you forced me to kiss you and then confessed your undying love to me. Holding my hand and begging me like a little boy to stay in Tokyo while Shoko had to bring you back to life.”

“Hey! You totally kissed me first!” His offended tone makes you laugh, running your hands down his arms. “And confessed too!” 

Deciding to let him get his way since you’ll never hear the end of it, you turn yourself around in his hold to look at him properly. The lighthearted conversation ceases with a short hum from your lips, indicating conceding. When you look at him, his blue eyes are already trained on yours with almost a serious glint to them. The expression on his face is somewhat unreadable like he’s someplace far out of your reach. Here, arms wrapped around you, fully standing and breathing, is Satoru. But you know more than enough that his mind is somewhere elsewhere.

“Tell me.” You whisper.

Satoru looks out at the city and then back to you. Another glance out, a longer one back to you. He holds two worlds he’s tried to keep safe for so long. He’s exhausted, so incredibly worn out without you. When you watch him with that worried expression of yours, his mind replays the question he’s always asked himself. Is he the strongest because he’s Gojo Satoru? Or is he Gojo Satoru because he’s the strongest? Desperately, he’s been searching for an answer. But when he looks at you, he sees everything. All of the infinity, perhaps even beyond that. Satoru is almost certain that the answer has always been out of the question. It’s always been you for him.

“I had this dream about Megumi earlier today… About us and…” He trails off, voice going soft. 

You know who he’s talking about, and you don’t prod. You wait patiently, watching him exhale with a small shake of his head. 

“I just… I wish it would get easier. For the kids, you know? There’s always something," He rests his forehead against yours. "This same story never ends, does it?” You’ve never heard him sound so lost. Satoru was always sure of himself, confident in everything. 

“It will. I promise you, Satoru. What, you think everything we’ve done is all for nothing?” Your voice never wavers, and you place both hands on the sides of his cheeks. “We’re gonna reform the world from the bottom up. Isn’t that what you told me? We're not going to let anything bad happen to those kids.”

“You know, you're starting to sound a lot like me. Perhaps a little prettier.”

“Takes one to know one,” You shrug, not once looking away. “But I’m serious. I’m stuck with you till the end.”

Suddenly, Satoru groans and moves out of your hold, stretches his long arms in the air, and takes your hand. He moves as if he’s been rejuvenated from your words alone, ready to take on anything else that decides to stand in his way. You realize that Satoru’s always just needed a push, something to land on when he feels like falling. No matter what, you’d be there.

“God, do I love you. Ah, we should just kill the higher-ups?”

You roll your eyes, pulling him down to plant a long kiss on his soft lips. It’s passionate and sincere, feeling almost as if it was pulled straight from a storybook with the way the trees flutter behind you and the breeze picks up your hair. In this kiss you share, you can feel both his yearning and his pain. You can feel all of it. The entirety of his love courses into your soul, and you tilt your head just so he can push further and prove it a little more. Asking him to spare some of his burdens onto you.

“Let’s get this job done first, yeah?”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #ngl idk what this is but i am a woman of my word.. i'm posting my old drafts!!! #guys idk how dialogue works i'm sorry i've never had a real human connection #jjk

[kiltongrammarwriter94]

Whispers of Tiny Footsteps

Pairing: Pippa Fitz Amobi x fem reader

Baby Fitz Amobi junior inspector Headcannons

Warning: Utter fluff. Pippa Fitz Amobi stealing my heart.

Did not expect this to be so long.

Your heart races as you hold the positive pregnancy test. You’re a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, and sheer disbelief. “Pippa,” you stammer, “we’re going to be parents. Can you believe it?” Pippa laughs, pulling you into a tight hug, leaving kisses on your forehead, your jaw, anyplace she can reach . “I can’t believe it either, love. But I’m so ready for this adventure.”

Pippa can’t stop talking. She rambles about baby names, nursery colours, and parenting books. “What if I mess up?” she frets. “What if I accidentally teach our child Morse code instead of nursery rhymes?” You kiss her forehead, the apples of her cheeks. “Pip, you’ll be an amazing mum. And I promise, no secret codes until they’re at least five.”

Pippa transforms the spare room into a cozy nursery. She paints the walls a soft mint green and hangs fairy lights. “Look, love,” she says, pointing at the crib. “Our little one will sleep here.” Your heart swells. “It’s perfect, Pip” you can’t help but say, bring her close to you, kiss the top of her frigid nose, “you are Perfect. Our baby will just love you”.

Pippa insists on visiting Harrods for baby essentials. She buys the softest blankets, designer onesies, and a mobile that plays classical music. “Our baby deserves the best,” she declares. You chuckle. “Pip, they won’t even remember the mobile.” “But we will,” Pippa replies, her eyes shining.

Pippa becomes a sentinel. She hovers over you, making sure you eat well and rest enough. “No heavy lifting,” she scolds. “And don’t stress. Our baby can sense it.” You roll your eyes. “Pip, I’m not made of glass.” “You’re carrying our child,” Pippa retorts. “You are made of glass” she scolds, moving to cup your jaw, lithe fingers holding your jaw in a firm grip. Her blue eyes staring into yours, “I want our baby to be healthy. I want you to be healthy. So no heavy lifting. If I have to call Ravi to do some heavy lifting I will. I’ve been needing to build that cradle in our room”. You lean your forehead into her chest, trailing your finger down her jaw, down to her neck. “I don’t think Ravi should help build it. After all you know how much I love watching you work with your hands” you whisper suggestively. Pippa blushes, “why don’t I get started on that now.” You laugh as you watch pip fly to her feet, eyes already trailing your figure. Hunger evident in her eyes. It’s only later when your backed up against your bed, a hungry pip laying desperate kisses on your sensitive neck that pip speaks. Her voice muffled by your skin. “Pregnancy makes you so much sexier have I told you that?”. You only blush.

“What about Agatha?” she suggests. “Or Hercule?”You laugh. “Pip, we’re not naming our child after fictional detectives.” “Fine,” she pouts. “But I’m still pushing for Mycroft”. Pippa arranges the nursery bookshelf meticulously. Agatha Christie’s novels sit next to Dr. Seuss. “Our child needs a balanced literary diet,” she declares. “Murder mysteries and whimsical rhymes.”You add a copy of “Goodnight Moon.” Pippa raises an eyebrow. “Is there a hidden clue in there?”

Pippa’s eyes widen the first time she feels the baby kick. “Sweetheart did you feel that?” You nod, tears in your eyes. “Our little inspector is saying hello.”Pippa presses her ear to your belly. “Inspector Junior, reporting for duty.”

Pippa packs the hospital bag like she’s solving a cold case. Extra socks, snacks, and a magnifying glass (just in case). “What’s the magnifying glass for?” you ask. “To examine our baby’s tiny fingerprints,” she replies. “And also to read the fine print on hospital forms.” Oh how you love this woman.

Pippa holds your hand through contractions. “Breathe, love,” she whispers. “We’ve got this.” When the pain subsides, she kisses your forehead. “You’re incredible.” “So are you,” you reply. Pippa is attentive to you, constantly holding your hands, kissing your cheeks. Josh is constantly waiting at the door, victor close behind, anxious to meet his grandchild. Leanne is constantly fretting over you, fluffing your pillow and wiping the sweat of your brow. “Just hold on a tad longer my loves” she encourages. Cara and Naomi come by, they bring board games and laugh over how protective pip is. But you love it. As labor progresses you no longer can have small moments of peace, pain is all you feel. It’s a deep primal pain that fills your veins. You cry, feel tears down your cheeks.

Pip holds you, chases the tears. “I’ve got you my sweet. Deep breathes for me” she says, eyes on alert. You had a history of holding your breathe when the pain got to high. Leanne is close behind, monitoring your oxygen level.

The moment they heard their baby’s first cry, Pippa’s eyes filled with tears. She kissed your forehead and muttered, “You’re incredible, love.” And she meant it. She watched as the tiny, wrinkled baby was placed onto your chest. A mess of pink skin and strong lungs that shook the walls. Leanne had smiled, “just like Pippa when she was born. Lungs made of iron”. “She’s perfect,” Pippa murmured, her voice full of awe. She hovered over the baby, checking her fingers and toes, making sure everything was in place. When a nurse approached, Pippa narrowed her eyes. “Be gentle,” she warned, as if the nurse were handling precious evidence.

“What’s her name?” Leanne had asked.

“Grace Fitz Amobi” Pippa had answered.

Pippa insisted on skin-to-skin contact, her shirt unbuttoned as she cradled their daughter against her chest. Grace’s tiny head nestled into the curve of Pippa’s neck. You watched as Pippa kisses her tiny forehead. You’re going to be brilliant,” Pippa promised. “Just like your mum.”

Josh and Victor were allowed in a few minutes after. Josh with his almost teenage voice had begged to hold her. Pippa had smiled, handing the small bundle into her brothers arms, “hold her gently now Josh” she corrected him. Josh was a natural, hoisting the baby against his chest and smiling widely. “I think I might love grace more than you Pippo hippo” he commented.

The car ride home was nerve-wracking. Pippa drove cautiously, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror, where their daughter slept in her car seat. “We’re responsible for a human life now,” Pippa said, her voice filled with wonder. You laced your fingers with hers. “I’m sure our parents felt the same” you reassure.

Pippa took the night shift, sitting in the dimly lit nursery with their daughter cradled in her arms. She’d read her research papers aloud, hoping Grace would absorb some knowledge. You would tiptoe in, watching Pippa’s face soften as she gazed at their daughter. “She’s got your eyes,” Pippa whispered. “And my curiosity.”

As days turned into weeks, Pippa marveled at their daughter’s development. She’d watch her kick her legs, fascinated by the tiny muscles in action. “Look at her,” Pippa would say, her voice hushed. “When she’s mobile it’s going to be a nightmare”.

Pippa, in her meticulous nature, once put the nappy on backwards. You had discovered it during a change and burst into laughter. “Well,” Pippa deadpanned her cheeks crimson , “I was just testing your observational skills.”

You had prepared mashed bananas for the Grace’s first taste of solid food. Pippa, ever the researcher, decided to taste it herself. Her expression? Utter disgust. “I can’t believe she eats that”.

Pippa introduced Grace to classic literature—board books with titles like “Sherlock Holmes and the Missing Rattle.” You had caught Pippa whispering, “Elementary, my dear Watson. The rattle thief strikes again.”

#agggtm #emma myers x reader #pippa fitz amobi x fem reader #pipa fitz amobi x fem reader #pipa fitz amobi

[shadowriel]

The Blade of Your Tongue, Clashing Against Mine

I’ve been so excited (and nervous) to share this new fic! The prologue was posted over the weekend, but it’s canon-divergent Gwynriel that features Gwyn as the villain. You can expect enemies to lovers with an interesting twist.

Summary: As general to Koschei's army, Gwyneth Berdara wields death with power. It's a choice she made after being rescued from Sangravah—to never be helpless again. Yet, her story rewrites itself when the Spymaster of the Night Court is captured as a prisoner of war and claims to be her mate.

Chapter 1: Prologue - The End Before The Beginning

Read here on AO3

Read a snippet below:

Impossibly, Azriel still holds out hope for a happy ending. One where the loose ends come together, laced tightly with an ivory-coloured bow. Like the final pages of a novel—dog-eared and well-loved, a familiar comfort placed atop a forgotten shelf until the pad of your thumb wipes away dust. Until you crack open the spine and re-start with the first chapter. It’s always the same: the hero wins, the love interest survives. Despite the hardships they face along the way.

That’s not what this is.

It’s a devastating outcome, for hope to be misplaced. Azriel doesn’t realize that’s where their fates lie as his eyes search for her. He grows more frantic as he flies above the battlefield, gaze skirting past the ashes that stir like snowflakes and the bodies that litter the ground. He’d know if she was dead, deep in his bones, so he focusses on the survivors—High Fae and Illyrians and Valkyrie alike, covered with enough blood for it to be considered a second armour.

Still no sign of her.

With a final swoop, his feet find the ground. It’s moments like this where the sky is more steady, the wind flitting through his hair and caressing his wings more of a comfort. When his boots press against the muddy earth, his knees nearly buckle. His wings droop downwards, fighting years of intrinsic muscle memory. And before he can help himself, a strangled, breathless sound escapes him—unlike anything that has fell from his lips in over half a century.

He’d prayed for her just last night. Another first, since he’d finally found something in his measly existence worth believing for. She’d been in his arms, held tightly against his chest on the floor of their hastily assembled tent. So close that he could hear every one of her breaths, could feel every beat of her heart.

It had been freeing, to ask for her safety as he pressed his lips against the crown of her head. He’d prayed to the Mother and the Cauldron. To the old gods and every shining star. Any entity that would listen, he spoke a single prayer to—over and over again until the first hint of light kissed the horizon.

He’d fucking prayed for her.

Taglist (I’m just guessing here, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @headcanonheadcase @foundress0fnothing @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @trashforazriel @sv0430 @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @thelovelymadone @damedechance

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel supremacy #pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #azriel #acotar #acotar fanfic #au gwynriel #the blade of your tongue

[allthesunlightwecansee]

The (Un)seriousness of My Practice

I just got done watching a short podcast episode on being an unserious witch, and it helped me to articulate some thoughts and feelings that I’ve been having over the past year. About a year ago now, I had a kind of breakthrough where I figured out how to connect with witchcraft and paganism, instead of vaguely calling myself a “person who wishes they were more spiritual,” like I had for several years prior to that. Not to sound like a YA romance novel, but my spiritualism was a slow build up that then hit me all at once that year. As I’m sure a lot of people on Tumblr will relate to, it was a really exciting seven months or so of figuring myself out before life got really stressful and overwhelming, and my spirituality kind of fell to the wayside. However, even during that period of excitement, it wasn’t like I was performing spells every day or doing elaborate rituals and ceremonies like some witches do (though I’m well aware the vast majority do not). Instead, that year involved a lot of reading and learning and altar building, since I am a collector at heart. I think I finally settled into kind of a routine with my spirituality, which I have come to accept, even though it isn’t what I thought it would look like.

Something that I find a bit intimidating about the Internet in general is seeing people who look like they have everything put together. Some practicing witches online clearly do make their whole lives revolve around their practice, particularly those who have turned it into a career via social media or YouTube. That’s a perfectly acceptable way to practice obviously, but it does mean that online spaces tend to feel a little gatekept sometimes when it comes to unserious witchcraft. I would definitely label my practice as being unserious; I rarely create spells at this point, I am very colloquial with the deities that I work with and honor, some of my altars are built almost solely around my need to house certain books (though I am quite deliberate in what deities I create altars for), I enjoy collecting crystals over working spells, and a lot of my spirituality revolves around feeling and the visual, physical objects that I have acquired for my various altars. I can think of several witchcraft Youtubers that I like and whose content I enjoy that would say that I am not a witch because of how I practice, which doesn’t reflect how I actually feel about myself and my practice. For me, spirituality feels more fluid than that. The fact that I create some spells and hold sacred space for my deities still falls under the realm of witchcraft, even though that’s not what works for other people. I have found that having discrete alters for different deities and purposes, makes it easier for me to connect with my spirituality, because I find that adding to altars, lighting, candles, leaving long-term spells, and other forms of magic work better for me personally.

Because of that, while I am not a serious witch in that witchcraft and spirituality do not rule my life, the practice that I do have, however minimal, does fill a gap that was missing in my life. I have also realized that a minimal practice isn’t a bad thing; it’s why their entire podcasts devoted to small magical practices (my favorite is Demystifying Magic), in addition to YouTube channels and accounts that depict serious career witches. It also means that I still keep my other hobbies, and that witchcraft has not become my primary “hobby,” so to speak. I have collected action figures and dolls for over a decade now, which encompasses all of my teenage and adult life. While I know some witches abide by notions of lowering consumption and just generally having a quieter living space, my living space is completely decked out in my various collections, and that hasn’t changed since I pinned down an evolving form of my spirituality. I think some people would see me as incredibly unserious for doing that, but I don’t feel as though one part of myself has to eclipse the other, just because it is more metaphysical in nature. I also know that I have a lot more learning and growing to do in my practice as I figure out what I believe in and what I want to take with me, but I don’t anticipate the physicality of how I practice changing anytime soon. In other words, my unserious practice doesn’t have less value just because it is not elaborate, and I am more secure in that now than I was a few months ago.

#paganism #witchcraft #hellenism #hellenic polytheism #altar #personal

[miyseung]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 - 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess or becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: no warnings in the teaser!!

death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, more warnings will be added in the final oneshot

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 904

genre: angst

READ THE FULL FIC HERE !

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology. 

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure. 

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it. 

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself. 

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

a/n: it kinda reads like ‘y/N iS nOt LiKe oThEr gIrLs’ in this bit but i swear that was not the intent! hoon (is a loser) has simply never had real interaction with women who aren’t royals, so pls don’t take it in that manner <3 this is probably going to be my longest oneshot yet, my motivation to write is not completely dead we cheered!!

there is a taglist for this oneshot, lmk if you want to be added on it in my asks!

#mallow’s works #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen royal au #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon oneshot #enhypen angst #sunghoon enhypen #prince au #sunghoon fic #enhypen fic teaser