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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: What do you call a deaf pirate? Not 'Siren Food' apparently, which is really sort of hilarious when you've been kidnapped by a hungry Siren. Not for the Siren though—he's definitely not having a good time.

A/N: *rushes in at the 11th hour* Happy Mer-May!! I've been back and forth with clinical rotations and also working on some commission things and Leona's Part 4, but like, it's a fanfiction holiday. I couldn't miss out. And for one of my favorite tropes nonetheless. So here we are.

[PART 1] [PART 2]

There was a legend that floated throughout the Sage Island Seas of the Pirate With No Ears. Which was ridiculous—half because such a tall tale managing to survive so long and so wildly really showed just how pathetic the rest of the gossip around here was, and half because you still had ears. They just didn’t work very well was all.

Some said you’d been deafened by a prowling sea sorcerer who had tricked you into trading away your once keen sense for some mortal foible or other. Others whispered about how you’d been trapped in an ice cavern, surrounded by electric eels and sharks, and that the only way you’d been able to weasel your way out was by cutting off your own ears so that you’d have enough wiggle room to escape from your bindings. Which made absolutely zero sense at all.

In reality, all you’d done was stand far too close to a canon for far too long when you were far, far too little, and ever since all you could hear was the dull ringing of post-battle silence. Sometimes it was a bit sad. When the waves crashed against the shore, or when the gulls flew overhead—you were sure all those things sounded very lovely. You remembered music and laughter and sometimes they echoed in your head at a distance—a memory not quite forgotten but certainly fading at the edges. But other times, like now, where your fellow crewmates were bawling into their ales and wailing about lord knew what… well, it was always nice to find a silver lining in these sorts of things.

One of the tipsy lads tottering around the deck of The Rose Queen tripped and landed against the wood with something that looked like it’d be a very loud smack. Your brain helpfully filled the silence with some nonsense noises and park-play-style laughter instead. You watched Cater stumble by out of the corner of your eye. He patted your head and said something that twisted his mouth into a gaping ‘uuuuu-eeeee-oooo’ before he puttered away to leech off First Mate Clover instead. Ace threw a drunken arm around your shoulder and burbled something against your cheek that popped with the scent of stale booze, and you decided to pretend that you were as alone at sea as your muted senses would like to think.

The party raged on long into the evening and you stared down at the rabble contentedly from your perch in the crow’s nest. They were a good bunch—dullards though they may be. You’d heard (hardee har har) that they were planning to raid the Port o'Bliss, and something must have gone terribly right. You only really hung around to scrub barnacles off the paneling and keep an eye on the tides well enough that Deuce wouldn’t run the lot of you ashore, so you weren’t really sure how the whole ‘pirating’ business actually went about. But clearly they were doing a pretty good job of it.

You rested your chin on your crossed arms and sighed into the salty breeze. The night was warm and pleasant, and before you knew it, you were nodding off against the rough fabric of your sleeves. You weren’t quite sure how long you spent dozing there tangled in the ropes of mast, but it was long enough that by the time you snorted back awake the festive lights had dimmed to embers and most of the crew had sidled away below deck to either keep drinking themselves blind or collapse in a pool of their own colorful vomit.

There was a lone figure swerving towards the bow—precariously close to the railing for someone so clearly unsteady on their own legs, if you did say so yourself. You squinted suspiciously at his mused lavender hair, not entirely sure you recognized the head bobbing around below you. But perhaps The Rose Queen had picked up some fresh recruits at the Port, or maybe the crew had gotten a bit too booze happy with some dye. Purple Hair leaned up against the rails and tipped forward on his toes like he was thinking about diving in, or maybe barfing. Either or, you sighed and shimmied your way down to stop him from tumbling into a watery grave.

“Oi!” you called, the shout vibrating up and out of your throat, and the kid jumped half a foot in the air. “What do you think you’re doing? Get away from there. Riddle’ll have your head if we have to send out the rescue rafts this late at—”

The kid turned to face you with wide, wide, glowing eyes. Your own went round as dinner plates as you watched his too-dark pupils pulse like drumbeat. They were so bright, practically illuminating the whole of his delicate face, but there was no light to them. Matte and sleek like a shark’s eyes.

He shouted something at you so whip fast that you couldn’t even begin to make sense of, and then he was glancing nervously back and forth between the roiling waves at his back and the encroaching deckhand at his front—making all sorts of nonsense gestures that had you sighing behind gritted teeth.

“Look,” you said, interrupting whatever indiscernible gibberish he was spouting, “I don’t know who you think you are. But you’ve picked the wrong ship to try and—I don’t know—seize? Pirate? You can’t pirate a pirate ship! But either way, you—”

Then the kid opened his mouth like he was screaming, and you frowned again. There was strange prickle along your arms that had goosebumps crawling up your skin and the hair raising at the back of your neck, but you shook it off and moved forward with another weary sigh. You pulled a length of rope from the belt slung around your hips and held the limp bundle of salt-soaked mesh up like a threat.

“I will throw you overboard. And hogtie you first,” you promised cheerily. “So you actually sink.”

Purple Hair just looked like he was trying to scream louder, and you were sourly tempted to stick your fucking tongue out at him and make petulant ‘nyeh nyeh nice try’ noises at him, but then there was a heaviness behind you. A creak in the wood that you could feel if not hear. You rolled out of habit—tumbling across the deck just in time to avoid a nasty swipe along your back. And oh no. The thing crawling up over the railing was worse than any lavender would-be ship thief. The black tipped claws and flared fins were telling enough, but the sharp-toothed grin was somehow more so. It tilted its unnaturally lovely head at you and spoke politely—clearly and very, painfully, slowly.

“What’s—this—perhaps—” you were able to vaguely make out. Maybe. The dark and your panic were both a terrible hindrance to putting shapes to sound. His lips curled into something wicked before parting far more smoothly than the younger man’s had. Singing. It was singing, not screaming. Hauntingly green eyes glowed bright and you felt the tunk tunk tunk beneath your feet of the rest of the crew starting to move around beneath you. Around you.

Then there were more of them—crawling up over the railings, trilling into the night air. All far too lovely and far too sharp to be anything but predators. The moonlight illuminated their fangs and scales in a ghostly white glow. There were shivers running along your spine, but otherwise nothing but silence echoed through your head. Small mercies. You watched several of your fellow crewmates rush out of the cabins only to double over with their hands clasped over their ears. Others stuttered and tumbled forward towards the railings as if they were being dragged along like puppets on a string. You cursed and ducked between them—looping your rope around their legs as you went and tugging them to their knees like a line of falling dominoes.

You let your hapless comrades collapse to the deck and curled the last throws of rope around your fists. You were decent enough with a knife when it came to dueling an unmoving, completely unaware foe—like a barnacle or some rusted over door hinges. But real people? Sirens?Fucking literal blade-tipped-merfolk straight out of every sailor’s nightmare? No thank you. So the teeny blade stayed sheathed at your hip and you dove into the fray to find something rope-wrangle-able.

At the other end of the bow, you watched Purple Boy straighten from a crouch. There were new, silvery blue scales crawling up his neck and forearms. He was still tottering around on legs that he clearly wasn’t all too used to, and you watched as the little guppy started to make a furious beeline for Captain Rosehearts. Which—no. Absolutely not. You were never one of those pirates who was like ‘oh, Captain, my Captain~’ but Riddle was good. He was tough, and taciturn, and could throw a tantrum that could bring down an entire harbor. But he’d written out all of his ridiculous six hundred rules by hand so that you could have them. And the teeny furrow in his brow as he staunchly taught himself hand sign after hand sign so that he could yell at you in earnest was so endearing that you’d protect that little firecracker for as long as you breathed.

So you went after Lavender Head, and then of course Lavender Head turned and tried to shout at you all over again. When that continued to not work at all, the Siren began to backpedal in earnest. He turned his head and squawked at whoever was around to listen, but in the chaos of the attack there didn’t seem to be many of his pod free to lend him a hand.

You descended on the little snake, rope at the ready and perfectly happy to make sushi out of the fucker, when something big overshadowed the both of you. Another Siren crested over the side of the ship, larger and clearly more impressive than the rest of its kin. Which matched your stupidly terrible luck just fine. Ah, yes, Mister Big Bad. Please. Go for the deckhand rather than the literal trained mercenaries less than ten feet away. Brilliant. The Siren bared its fangs like some great, terrible, beast and tore into the paneling with its curved claws as it attempted to drag you down to your watery grave. You cursed, and kicked, and yelped in a panic when the thing managed to get one of those cold, pale hands around your ankle.

Despite the fact that all of it surely happened in less than a few seconds, your descent seemed to progress in steps. First, the Siren tugged you over the side. Second, you smartly flipped the loops of your rope up to try and lasso yourself a handhold. Thirdly, you outright missed the ship and instead tangled the spools of thin rope all around your Murderer To Be. Said Murderer’s eyes widened in shock as your unintentional trap wrapped the both of you up like a mess of bugs in a spider web. And finally, the pair of you crashed towards the churning ocean in a knotted-up heap and slowly sank beneath the waves.

You rubbed the grit and salt from your eyes and sat up with a groan. Where were you? Not too far out at sea, hopefully. Washing up ashore had been nothing short of a miracle, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth if it meant you got to avoid becoming chum for another day. The sand beneath your fingers was soft and white, and it slipped beneath your palm like water. You moved to push yourself to your feet and froze—a blur of amethyst swiping out and knocking you back onto your ass with a splash.

You spluttered and spat, and had just barely managed to flip yourself over like a turtle who’d been upended on its back when you caught sight of the absolute last creature in the world that you’d ever wanted to see again.

The big Siren had washed up nearby.

Because of course it had.

The creature narrowed his eyes at you and immediately set about lashing his rope-twisted tail against the sand like a rattlesnake. He bared his pointed teeth in a hiss and you were dowsed in a barrage of saltwater ammunition.

“Stop! Stop!” you begged, spitting out wayward chunks of seaweed, and shells, and gods knew what else. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”

The Siren curled his lips unpleasantly, putting that wonderful row of dagger-like pearly whites on display. He spat something completely indiscernible—the line of his mouth so harsh and flat that you couldn’t have even begun to pick up the shape of things if you tried—and you scooted as far back as you could without toppling yourself over again.

He dug his clawed hands into the sand and said something else, just as clipped and tight. You assumed it was an accusation. You were very used to recognizing the glare that accompanied those. When you didn’t respond, his brow tugged down low and he snapped something else—this time jabbing those pointed, black, nails in your direction. Ah, so definitely a complaint then.

You cocked your head at him out of habit and that griping turned into a snarl so ferocious that you could feel it racing up your skin like static. Which was definitely pretty trippy.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you told him honestly. Which just made the spiked fins flatten all along the side of his head and another wave of those zippy sneers dance up your arms. “Literally,” you tried. “I—”

The Siren opened his mouth and that sparky static from earlier amplified into something near painful. It was strong, and prickly, and left the imprints of invisible shackles all along your already aching joints. You could feel his voice carrying on the breeze—brushing against your cheeks and playing with hair. Thin, icy, fingers digging their way into your brain and yanking. But there was something missing from all that ethereal hypnotism. Something pleasant and sweet to complete the circle of temptation. A voice, you’d guess. There had to be a call after all, or else it hardly mattered how deep and all encompassing the need was to answer.

When you didn’t immediately, like, fall to your knees in subjugation or drown yourself in the inch and a half of tepid water pooling at your hips, the Siren’s eyes dimmed with something that almost looked like hesitance. His brow pinched tight and he parted his red lips wider. A seagull dropped from the sky. Three different crabs crawled out of the sand to bow down.

“I can’t hear you!” you tried again, loud enough to have your teeth aching. His mouth went wider, and an entire ass tuna beached itself to flop pathetically near your ankles. “It’s not a challenge!” you wailed. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”

The static disappeared all at once, and the Siren’s lips slipped into a small, surprised sort of ‘o.’ He blinked his too-long lashes at you and stared you down like you were some sort of escaped alchemical experiment.

“There,” you huffed. “Finally.” And then went quiet and a bit concerned. Because apparent Song Immunity or otherwise, the thing was still hugely impressive and scary looking. His claws definitely wouldn’t have any problem picking the leftover bits of you out of his teeth, and you knew well enough that if he dragged you into the depths with that powerful tail of his, there would be no resurfacing.

The Siren too was using this time to glare at you like you were somehow a threat to be taken seriously. Which was half flattering, half pretty funny.

“Well…” you said after a long moment. “I should get going, I suppose.”

You made your way to your feet in the mucky sandbar and started heading off to see where you’d been stranded. You could feel the Siren’s heavy gaze on you the whole while, and decided he was probably trying to figure out if you’d taste better paired with seaweed or a nice jellyfish spread.

The pair of you had been stranded on a small, crescent, islet that couldn’t even rightly call itself an island. You were able to walk from its curling east to west coasts in just under fifteen minutes, and that was at a meandering pace where you stopped to peer into all kinds of little grottos and rocky formations. There was some vegetation at the heart of it—short palm trees and tufts of grassy knolls—and thankfully a few deep divots that had collected some still rainwater, but otherwise it was entirely boring and stupid. Not even any weird tortoises or anything meandering about to make friends with.

By the time you circled back around to your original stranding point, you had fully expected the Siren to have flipped you the metaphorical bird and fucked off back into the ocean, never to be seen again. Instead, he was still stretched out in the shallows of the bay, carefully fanning his long tail out in the seafoam and picking through the mess of it with his pointy claws.

He reminded you of a beta fish—with wide, flowing, fins that looked far more like silk than skin or scales. The tips were a deep, plum purple that gently faded from near black to violet and finally a vivid sort of lilac at their junction. The bulk of his tail looked like it could be made from literal gemstones with the way it shimmered in the morning light (gems that had perhaps been a bit dinged and/or literally torn out in chunks from where he may or may not have been smashed into the rocky shore curtesy of your terrible hogtie, but who’s to say).

There were jagged cuts lining the right half of his pale torso. They oozed a strange sort of silver ichor that was probably some kind of mystical merman blood, but you absolutely refused to get close enough to try and find out. The fins framing his pelvis were tangled and thin looking, and the sweeping ones that trailed all the way down to the tip of his tail were battered and torn. Clearly pulled to bits by your handy, dandy lasso skills. Which… was still tied up at the base of them. Huh. You’d assumed he’d be able to slice through all that knotwork without issue. But maybe…

You approached the Siren cautiously. You caught the exact moment he must have realized you’d returned because the fins along the sides of his head flattened like the ears on a pissy cat and he turned on you with a very dramatic snarl that probably sounded all sorts of menacing.

“Hello,” you greeted, and the merman spat something that you assumed was probably a very polite ‘fuck right off.’

You nodded because, well, fair enough. And then pointed to his injured fins and the waterlogged ropes still twisted up around the heart of them.

“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”

He shouted something no doubt very indignant and then was back to hissing at you. Which definitely didn’t sound like an agreement not to immediately murder you on the spot.

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Your loss, I suppose.”

Well, your loss, really. Keeping a wounded Siren around was just asking for trouble. Their pods were viciously protective for one thing, and that wasn’t even taking into account the poachers and rivals who’d be more than keen to come sniffing after the fresh trail of blood in the water. Maybe you could find a big stick or something and just, I don’t know, push him back into the ocean and be done with it.

The thought must have shown on your face, because suddenly he was smacking his tail against the sandbar and spitting something that you very much assumed was a demand along the lines of ‘you are going to take accountability for this.’

Which absolutely no way in Hell. He’d kidnapped you sort of, so that made you his problem, thank you very much.

You felt your stomach gurgle, and it must have been pretty loud going off the stink eye he sent your way. You turned your nose up at him and went about collecting the various critters that had been washed ashore in his tenor’s tantrum.

“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly as you worked on scaling the tuna with the knife from your belt—making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so.

The Siren sneered at you and went back to grooming the shredded ends of his fins.

The rest of the afternoon became a sort of pissing contest between the two of you to see who could earn the title of Bitchiest Beach Bitch. You thought you were definitely winning with the whole ‘eating something that could have been his long-lost cousin’ thing, but then he went and swamped the entirety of the small fire you built (and all of said ‘cousin’ being cooked over it) with one sweep of his tail, so now you were at the very least tied. You set up a nice little shaded hutch out of driftwood and ferns to escape the sun, he called down seagulls to shit all over it and pick it to pieces. He tried to roll around to reach some of the tighter fibers tangled in his pectoral fins, and you chucked rocks at him until he reared on you with a scream that had all the hairs on your arms standing on end. Y’know. Perfectly mature things like that.

That night you curled up beside a tall, jagged rock just at the outskirt of the bay—determined to get some shut eye but to also keep within range of your newest pest in case he decided to try and pull something sneaky. But every time you’d just about settled in to sleep, the shallow tide would lap against your toes in harsh shush shush shushes that had you furrowing you brow until you finally had enough and sat up to see what all the hubbub was about.

The Siren was tossing around in the shallows like a fish in a net—throwing his long body against the bindings and flailing like his life depended on it. And as much as he’d definitely deserved to get caught up in your unintentional hogtie, watching something as large and no doubt powerful as he was wriggling around like a worm on a hook was… Well. Something soured a bit in your gut as you watched him give one, final, great buck against his bindings before collapsing back into the shallows in a circle of seafoam. He panted against the surface of the water, the tips of his pale hair dripping down in a curtain around his haggard face, and you could see a fine tremor running along his shoulder blades.

You turned back to your rock and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes, fighting the absolute batshit insane urge to feel bad for a monster who had literally tried to drag you to your death less than twenty-four hours ago.

The water was calm and still for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you picked up a few of the crabs who had crawled up to shore and went about getting them clean and fit for eating. You glanced at the Siren, who was busy preening over his janky fins and fussing over his hair. It was entirely unfair that you probably looked like a half-drowned rat, and yet this creature that wasn’t even meant to exist on the surface was somehow managing to put himself together well enough to rival the courtesans you’d seen meandering around some of the wealthier coastal towns.

You stared at the crabs. There were three of them. It wasn’t really sharing if it was meant to be a bribe to keep him from eating you whole. Or at least, that’s what you reassured yourself as you cautiously tiptoed back to the water’s edge.

The Siren swiveled on you with a snap of something that looked sort of like a ‘What?!’ and you held up one of the gutted crabs in offering.

“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…” You waved the limp crab awkwardly.

The Siren rolled its purple eyes and said something fast and sharp that you couldn’t really parse. Something, something, not, something, something, are crust—Something, something, are you that stupid? (you recognized the impressions of those words well enough to mouth them even in your sleep).

“Look, do you want it or not?” you interrupted, and he bristled—all those delicate, violet, fins flaring up like a porcupine’s spikes.

The Siren crossed his arms stiffly and pointedly turned in the other direction with a mutter of something you had no hopes of catching.

“Whatever,” you snapped and went to bite into your meal. Only to immediately forget that these pointy little fuckers still had their shells on them. You reeled back with a yelp as you stabbed a million, tiny, carapace-shaped holes in your tongue.

The fucking Siren had the gall to turn back around so that you could see him laughing at you.

That night he was back to flipping around in the shallows like a miniature hurricane.

You counted out the waves sloshing against your heels, telling yourself you’d intervene in his self-destructive tsunami once it hit one hundred. And then it became two, then three. You shifted hesitantly to peek over the rock’s edge and watched him curl into himself like some terribly wounded creature before shaking himself out of the fog of pain that had clearly settling over his nerves, and then continued with his nonsense.

You hurled a big, pink seashell at his head and he whipped on you like a rabid dog, practically foaming at the mouth and raring for a fight. When he lunged forward with the waves—seething with hatred, and blame, and nearly crashing onto his already shredded front in the process, something angry in your snapped.

“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you demanded, stomping perhaps a bit closer than would be rational. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”

The Siren roared something back and slapped his tail in the surf. Static zipped along your cheeks and you grit your teeth. He glared at you bitterly and then began to repeat one word over and over—slow and angry.

‘Eeeeehhh-Pppe-llllll’ said his lips. Strong and harsh with the shape of it.

And then he was back to spewing all kinds of rapid-fire vitriol that you wouldn’t have bothered to keep track of even if you could. Something in his expression shifted almost quicker than you could notice and he lifted his massive tail out of the water. He smacked the fins in your direction and pointedly jabbed a clawed finger at the creases of them—where delicate, silky, tendrils met strong, gem toned, muscle. Where the purple was light and clean. A pale, shiny, lavender. Almost just like—

“That kid?” you frowned. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”

He sneered again and pointedly sent a splash of seawater into your face.

“You—” you grit your teeth. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. For all the good it would do. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”

The Siren’s face twisted up like you’d force fed him soured milk, and he looped back around with a dramatic fwoosh of water to dive into the shallows. It was maybe two or three feet deep at best, and he was barely submerged. Not to mention how utterly ridiculous it looked to see a creature that was no doubt usually the peak of grace and athleticism reduced to flopping belly first into the waves with his proverbial legs tied up behind him. But you recognized a door slamming in your face when you saw it, no matter the species. Fine. Let him be a petty bastard. He could rot away in the sandbar for all you cared.

The next day you woke up with goosebumps crawling up and down your limbs.

There were all sorts of gulls crash-landed in the sand around you and more sad, little, sea creatures gasping on the beach than you dared to count. You shoved a particularly chubby octopus back into a tidepool as you passed and wondered just what sort of nonsense your co-strandee was getting up to now.

The Siren was circling the bay with his head held high above the low waves—lips parted and clearly caterwauling like a dying porpoise. The surface of the water trembled with whatever was making its way out of his mouth, and he looped and looped around the shores. It reminded you of the time you’d seen a whale calf separated from its pod. It had gotten trapped in a shallow inlet when the tides had changed, and your ship had been anchored just off the same coast. You’d watched it circle and circle, lifting its heavy snout to snort sharp jets of water into the air. Deuce had passed you a scribbled note when you’d asked him what it sounded like.

‘It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.’

There was a moment where the Siren paused in his paces and tilted his head. The fins there flared out to the side, like he was listening for something. But after a long moment the spines drooped back against his damp hair and he went back to his singing an aria to no one.

‘It’s looking for its family,‘ Riddle had signed to you when you’d asked him why the calf didn’t simply leave once the tides had turned in its favor. ‘This is where they last saw it, so this is where it will stay.’

“Maybe they forgot about him already,” you mused petulantly, turning back towards the center of the islet to try and scavenge up something to eat from all the poor creatures who had collapsed beneath your nemesis’s wailing.

The bitter thought wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it ought to be.

That night, the waters were still.

You squinted suspiciously at the merman curled in the shallows of the bay. He’d pulled himself half-out of the water, resting his more human looking bulk in the soft sand as gentle waves lapped at his tail. He slept on his front with his arms crossed beneath his pointed chin—his unbound fins sticking up behind him in a way that deliriously reminded you of bedhead. You watched him carefully for nearly an hour, searching for any tightness in his muscles or change in his breathing that might indicate he was faking it. But as the evening stretched on and he never lurched awake to try and gauge your eyes out, you assumed he might actually be properly resting.

He'd been swimming in circles all day—the aborted, stuttering, beats of his bound tail looking painful even by your non-tail-having standards. Eventually the tremors along the ocean had grown stuttered and strange, like perhaps his voice was giving out on him. And once that had happened, he’d curled up exactly where he was now. And hadn’t moved since.

You stared at the Siren hesitantly. He was certainly in enough of a state that you could probably pull off that whole ‘shoving him into the depths with a stick’ thing. He’d probably just let you do it—sink to the bottom in a mess of shredded fins and tangled twine and never rise again.

You gnawed at your lip, feeling something unpleasantly hot and sticky twist up your stomach.

The knife glinted between your fingers and you thought of crying whales and of the crew that you already missed so much that it felt like a gnawing chasm had opened in your chest.

You huffed out a miserable sigh and lamented for not the first time in your life that you really were just so fucking stupid sometimes. And then you were cautiously making your way down towards the waterline and the sleeping Siren sprawled out in the sand. Slowly—so very, very slowly—you tiptoed towards the mer and tried to get a quick glance at what amounted to the worst of the damage.

The rope had been thin and long, and the more he’d struggled, the more he’d dug the twine into his fins. You reached forward at half speed and slipped the blade into one of the too-tight creases beneath the bindings. You winced a bit in sympathy at the raw, pink skin beneath. No wonder he hadn’t been able to just rip the fibers away. He’d probably just ended up tugging them over and over against the oozing wounds beneath.

The first strand broke beneath your fingers with something that almost felt like a pop. Like seams ripping on a shirt. You glanced quickly at the sleeping Siren to confirm he was still lost to the world and not gearing up to bite your fingers off at the knuckle, and then continued making your way through the worst of it. It reminded you a bit of the time Ace had accidentally snared a sea turtle in one of his fishing nets and the lot of you had spent the better part of an hour slowly working the thing free of the seemingly endless tangles. You delicately worked the tightest edges away from the harsh indentations they’d left against his scales and peeled back the muckier bits with enough gentleness to avoid mangling anymore of his already battered fins.

The last of the rope finally came away with a satisfying, wet weight and you let it fall to the sand beside you with a pleased nod. Now you could let Mister Merman swim away in the morning with no unpleasantly gross sense of moral obligation weighing down your consciousness. Maybe he’d even be thankful enough to look at you with something other than a venomous glare for once. Certainly nothing like the one leveled at you right now. And—

Oh.

You didn’t even have time to properly gasp before you were being flipped and pinned into the wet sand. The Siren loomed over you, digging his black claws into your shoulder until you could feel the first pricks of blood breaking the surface. He snarled in your face, the curtain of his pale blonde hair shadowing his eyes in something so dark it was nearly black. The brilliant purple cast off his glowing irises were like little spots of stars in an otherwise empty night sky.

He leaned forward, teeth bared, and then some sort of tight expression flickered over his face. He paused, brow tugging together steep and angry. He hunched down once more, fangs at the ready, and then ducked back out. He shook his head, like he was trying to clear fog from his brain, and then he was snapping his canines at you all over again.

The Siren reared back with a booming snarl that sent ripples through the soft tide lapping at your ankles. He turned with one, final, icy glower and dove back into the shallows, disappearing beneath the surface in a flash of amethyst scales. He flicked his tail sharply as he went, and one of the tattered fins snapped against your nose with enough of a crack to make you yelp.

You sat up in disbelief, rubbing at your aching skin and watching in outright consternation as the great predator of the oceans swam tight laps beneath the warm waters of your little lagoon—fins occasionally cresting over the surface to smack pointed fistfuls of water into your gaping face.

Deliriously, one of The Rose Queen’s hundreds of nonsensical rules bounced about your head. Happy to fill the otherwise entirely empty space behind your eyes.

‘Never save a Sea Serpent on a Sunday,’ Riddle had demanded, hands at his hips. ‘No Serpents, or Sea Horses, or Sirens to speak of.’

‘Man,’ you thought wildly, brain high on adrenaline and static as you watched one of the aforementioned Sirens swan about like he hadn’t probably just been a half second away from gnawing on your literal bones. ‘If I get out of this alive, Captain’s definitely gonna collar me this time.’

[TAG LIST]

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

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Mermay #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 1

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pinkie-pop · 7 months

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Pop's Self-Aware AU: Heartslyabul

Intro Heartslyabul Savannaclaw

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland x Reader. Yandere x Reader, Self Aware Twisted Wonderland

"Happy unbirthday! You're five minutes early and right on time. Hurry, pick a seat and grab a cup, you're the main character of today, so why not sit up by the front? Of course, by front I mean back, and by back I mean front. Oh, don't look so confused, dear, this is just how we do things around these parts. You'll get used to it soon.

Now, do you take your sugar with tea or with honey?"

>[Go to Heartslyabul]

Riddle Rosehearts:

He's a real stickler for the rules. Best not to anger him, lest it be off with your head. But you don't have to worry about that, do you?

Indeed, to Heartslyabul's housewarden, you are a being that sits above even the most important of the Queen's laws. Or, perhaps it is more accurate to say that you are the law itself? To Riddle, you are a perfect being—the pinnacle of righteousness. No matter what you do, no matter what rules you break or how unscrupulous you may behave, it does not matter. You are not wrong. You can't be. It is everything else that is wrong.

It is with this unshakable faith that he rules over his dorm, gradually changing everything to suit your tastes. Of course, you'll acknowledge his efforts—won't you?

You have to. If you don't, then what was this all for?

Please accept them. Accept him. For you, he'd do anything.

There is nothing more important.

Trey Clover:

There's something sinister hidden behind his kind smile and brotherly persona—a wolf in sheep's clothing, if you'll forgive me for sounding cliché. It's something kept under wraps, and few had ever gotten unlucky enough to see it...until you came into the picture, that is.

Don't get the wrong idea now. This sadism would never be directed towards you. Rather, it is everyone else that you ought to worry for, should you care enough to worry for anyone at all. Trey would do anything if it were for you. Whether it's making your favorite dessert at three in the morning due to a sudden craving or throwing it out should you change your mind, it hardly matters. If it's for you, there are no lengths he wouldn't go to. Why, if it were your wish, he would pluck out everyone's unworthy eyes so that they were unable to gaze upon your form.

It stands to reason, then, that he would be willing to hide his true self from you, as well, if only to stand by your side.

Cater Diamond:

Another one that's not quite what he seems. Cater has spent years polishing his persona to an almost sickening degree. Putting on airs is exhausting, and the rewards are hollow. A few likes on Magicam, a fleeting moment of cyber fame, or applause from the crowd at a club event---none of it means anything to him. The endorphins are empty, cold, and so, so lonely.

He's been looking for something all his life. He couldn't find meaning in the real world, so he looks for it online. There's nothing there, either, yet even so, he searches.

He can't give up. He has to find something. If he doesn't...

Perhaps the universe decided to finally take pity on him, to throw him a bone, because finally, finally, he found it. Something more than just what's tangible. A purpose. A goal. Something to strive for, someone to impress.

You.

Duece Spade:

He's never really been a good kid. Bad grades. Bad attitude. The only way he knew how to communicate was through his fists. He hated it, but he didn't know how to change. But Duece is nothing if not stubborn. Even if he didn't know how to do something, he'd still brute his way into doing it. Even when it was sloppy. Even when he did it badly.

He wanted to change. Wanted to turn over a new leaf and make his mother proud. He finally had a chance to, after enrolling in Night Raven College. It was clear that he was out of his element. He wanted to be an honors student without knowing what it meant.

Then he met you. And everything fell into place.

You, perfect, amazing you. You were everything he'd ever wanted to be. You helped people, even when you didn't have to. Reached out even when you were on the other side of a screen. You traveled to another dimension and still managed to carve out a place for yourself amongst the chaos.

You were everything. And he'd give anything to you.

Ace Trappola:

Ace isn't exactly the lovey-dovey type. Never has been and thought he never would be, either. But...something about you makes him want to give it a try.

It's gross, honestly---the way you make him feel all warm and mushy. It's lame. He's lame. And yet, he doesn't seem to mind. He can't find it in himself to hate you. Of course not, how could he, when you're so...you?

You've made him a real sap, you know? But that's okay. Ace doesn't mind being sappy if it's for you. The others may tease him for it, but he knows they're all jealous of him. After all, he's your best friend, isn't he? Sure, your first impression of him may not have been all that great, but he's still the one who's stuck with you the longest.

He was the first human you made friends with.

He was the first, and he'll do whatever it takes to ensure that he's the favorite, too.

Unbirthday parties are so much fun; it's too bad this one was over so quick. Still, you have to go. After all, there's another dorm just down the hall. They've been scratching at the door waiting for you, so let's hurry and join them, okay?

>[Go to Savannaclaw]

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #self aware twst #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere ace trappola #yandere duece spade #yandere cater diamond #yandere trey clover #yandere riddle #yandere ace #yandere cater #yandere duece #yandere trey

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dotster001 · 9 months

Text

Found Chapter Two

Requested by @somany-fandoms-solittle-time

Summary:Lilia x gn!reader. Now that you've been reunited, Lilia is forced to remember how hard it is to care for you. But he's not the only one starting to remember....

A/N: hopefully y'all enjoy this, cause I have a whole series idea for this 😁

3k celebration masterlist

Part One

You were dreaming. You were the maid to a queen, and you were watching what looked like a court case.

"You're nothing more than a tyrant!"

You and your fellow maids all stiffened and murmured amongst yourselves. This stranger from who knows where dared to speak to your queen that way? Didn't she know how dangerous that was? People were beheaded for less in this kingdom!

The queen's face turned beat red as she prepared to issue a sentence, and a loud one at that.

Before you could hear it, you were hit with a dizzy spell, and sharp pain in your stomach.

"Louisa," the maid next to you looked concerned, "do you need to sit down? Did you take your potion today?"

"I'm fine," you groaned, but still felt yourself smile.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

All the maids nodded. This was the expected verdict.

You looked down at your ring with the fuchsia gem, and smiled through the stomach pain. Everything would be alright.

….

Lilia couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was so happy you were here and alive, but damn, he was so nervous you'd vanish.

It wasn't too long before he caught the whole story. That you were from another planet or dimension and just…showed up. He supposed it made sense why he hadn't seen you in so long. You were somewhere outside of his reach. He could only imagine how lonely it had been. If it was anything like what he'd gone through, it was a horribly painful existence. Going lifetime to lifetime without the man you'd bonded your soul too. His heart broke thinking about it.

"Father? Is everything alright?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Silver's concerned whisper. He'd been staring at you again.

"Mm. Yes, I'm alright," he took a bite of his lunch to prove it, which did little to assuage his sweet boy, but he still nodded and looked at his own lunch.

"That's Diasomnia," he heard from Trey Clover, who had been telling you all about the other dorms.

He rattled off a couple more insignificant facts about the thorn fairy, some of them incorrect, much to Lilia's amusement.

Then he saw the red headed freshman playfully bump shoulders with you.

"I gotta take care of something," he said to his lunch table, before poofing over to yours.

"Were you talking about me?" He giggled as you shrieked at his upside down form that had materialized between the two of you.

You took a moment to catch your bearings.

"What the actual fuck," you breathed.

"I heard you talking about Diasomnia, and me, and my young Lord so I thought I'd join the fun."

"You heard all that?" The red headed freshman asked incredulously.

Lilia turned to him, feeling the joy drain from his eyes, that is, until the freshman shivered. Then Lilia had some sick glee return to him

The conversation continued casually, you pretty silent for most of it, Eventually, he figured continuing the conversation with you would do nothing. At least with an audience. He had a whole year, probably longer, considering the headmage was useless. He had time to reconnect with you.

After popping back to his own table, grinning like a lovesick fool, he was met with Silver and Sebek's concerned gazes.

"What? It's fun to prank the freshman, fu fu fu!" He laughed. They both shared a glance before shrugging and continuing dinner in peace.

….

"Did you hear? Housewarden Rosehearts overblotted."

The murmurs were all over the school, and Lilia wanted to kick himself. Of course you'd get into trouble. You always did. Even in a world where the mortality rate was so low, you somehow were so hard to keep alive!

"Sevens, Y/N, why is it so hard to hold onto you?" He whispered to himself, as he watched you wander the school with your two freshmen friends.

He didn't have time to think too hard about it before,

"Lilia!"

"Fa-Lilia! Lord Malleus is-"

"SILVER HAS ALLOWED OUR LORD TO GO MISSING AGAIN!"

He sighed inwardly, before throwing a final glance your way. If you ever did remember your past lives, he would definitely ask if this is what you wanted when you both talked about the family you were going to start. Not that he'd trade it for anything, but it felt unfair that you were getting out of all the hard work.

….

"Their next target is Malleus Draconia."

Malleus had a tendency to never actually be informed about housewarden things, but the one time someone actually came looking for him, Lilia selfishly decided to take the meeting himself.

Only to be told that his boy was likely to be the target of the Savannaclaw Housewarden at tomorrow's event.

"That's a rather large accusation, prefect."

Of course he believed you. But he wanted to hear your voice again. Keep you talking to him. Keep your eyes on him. He simultaneously felt like dirt, but also like the happiest man to ever exist.

"But it's true!" You cried. "He's been taking people down with his signature spell for weeks now."

Lilia leaned back, pretending to think. Not that the thorn fairy's general had to actually think twice about that. He just…needed to stare at you for a moment.

"I have an idea," he muttered. "That is, if you're willing to listen."

You nodded, and he did his best to hold back a grin.

….

"Pearce." His voice whispered in the darkness.

After months of taking the night shift to guard him, you'd learned to pick up his emotions from his voice, and the shimmer of his glowing pink eyes. This was a new one though. If you had to guess, it was a mix between desperation and fear.

"Evening," you said, trying not to let this deter you.

"Pearce."

"What's wrong?" You said, giving into morbid curiosity.

"Run away with me."

You stiffened.

"Li-"

You heard shifting, and his hands were cupping your face, his face slightly more illuminated, but features still obscured.

"How long have you been able to-"

"These ropes could never hold me. Pearce, run away with me. The queen's army is coming to the castle. If I'm there to let them in, great. If I'm not, they'll just double their forces. They're all going to die either way. But at least we could-"

You cupped his cheeks and softly kissed him. He stiffened before returning the kiss. Softly. Tenderly.

You separated and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes so that you couldn't see the heartbreak in his.

"I can't."

"Don't say that," you heard him choke on his words, as he clutched your face harder.

"You have a duty to your people, I have one to mine. I swore to protect my king. And if I have to die to fulfill my oath-"

"Stop."

"-then I'll die happy."

"Y/N! Wake up!"

You groaned as Grim slapped your face with his soft paws.

"What? What time is it?"

"We gotta help those Diasomnia guys, remember?"

"Right," you sat up and rubbed your eyes blearily.

On top of the already weird dreams about lions, now you were having some weird fantasy tragedy dream. Although, that story sounded interesting. If you remembered the dream later, you'd have to write it down and write a book or something.

"Why would they want to go over the plan so early in the day?" You groaned again

….

"Malleus Draconia is twice the king you will ever be!"

"Lilia, shut up," he heard you whisper. Of course it would be your voice snapping him back to reality. He'd lived a long time, but he'd only ever witnessed one overblot. If the ink rising in the air was anything to go by, Kingscholar was about to be the second one he witnessed.

Why did he just say that? Was it because of his love for his adopted son? His anger at the injustices done on the students? The need to show off so you could see how cool he was?

"Vanrouge!" Housewarden Rosehearts snapped. "Go get the headmage."

He watched Riddle pull his pen. He should really stay. This was partially his fault. And it was so damn hard to keep you alive…

"Lilia, please, we need backup," you pleaded. Sevens, those eyes. He'd kill for those eyes.

He nodded and poofed away, praying he was back fast enough to ensure you stayed alive.

….

He was always terrified when he saw you sleeping, no matter what life time it was. He'd seen you stop breathing far too many times, so it was always the first thing he looked for; the tell tale slow filling of your lungs.

Of course it hadn't been the overblot that had put you here. It would be something as simple as a disc to the head.

"Enjoying the view?" You croaked as you slowly woke up, causing him to snicker.

"I wanted to apologize, but you were preoccupied."

"Is preoccupied the medical term for a concussion?" You winced.

He laughed, a boisterous laugh that he hadn't released for several generations.

When he'd calmed himself momentarily, you sat up a bit, and gave him a soft smile.

"You don't need to apologize. I get it, you were upset that he was insulting your friend."

Friend? He could burst into a fit of laughter all over again. He supposed, you did believe he was a normal college student, so friend would be the accurate word for him and Malleus. Normally.

"Uh, yeah," he said, fighting back another laugh. "Still, I swear I'm far more intelligent than that normally."

He was really trying so hard to dig himself out of this hole.

"It's college. You're allowed to be a dumbass from time to time."

He bit his lip as he nodded. Was it truly unethical to just tell you everything? To just tell you you were supposed to be with him because you always used to be? To tell you that he was far older than anyone you'd ever met? That you were far older?

It would be unethical. You had to make your own choices, unimpaired by him. He just had to have faith that you'd choose him. He had no reason to believe otherwise! You'd always chosen him before.

Why should it be different this time around?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge

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demonichikikomori · 1 year

Text

Show Me Somethin’: Heartslabyul

(WARNING! CONTENT IN POST IS 18+ ALL CHARACTERS DEPICTED AS 18+)

Savanaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomfiore - Ignihyde - Diasomnia

After dating for a few months, things start to get a little steamy. So, he decides to finally send you: A surprise dick pic.

♡ Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader (600+)

♡ Trey Clover x GN!Reader (800+)

♡ Cater Diamond x GN!Reader (1k+)

♡ Ace Trappola x GN!Reader (600+)

♡ Deuce Spade x GN!Reader (700+)

Riddle Rosehearts

He has been pacing back and forth all evening, chewing on his thumbnail as he re-read texts from Cater.

‘Show them your meat lol you got this.’

‘If it doesnt go well???????? Uhhhhhh i guess never show your face on campus ever again lol’

The concept was crude, and downright impolite to send something like that unannounced from what Riddle had heard. But the two of you were dating. Dating for about six months. Riddle had thought of waiting for you to make the first move, but what if that moment never came? Riddle would never have the courage to try something this… Risqué ever again. You could very easily refuse any future pictures after this attempt. His ego and self esteem may take a heavy blow, but at least when having late night Heartslabyul lobby congregations with the other boys, Riddle Rosehearts would finally be included.

The sun was finally starting to set as Riddle pulled his curtains shut. His heart was threatening to leap out of his chest as he clutched the velvet material in his tight fisted grip. His mind was racing with the fear that you may reject him, and he would be eternally discouraged from ever doing this again. He opened the messages he shared with you, scrolling though to see the more intimate conversations you had shared together and how they trailed off into lonely nights due to the fear of taking that first step. You must be upset that he hasn’t tried harder. "It's just a photo..." He whispered as he sat on the edge of his bed, his face becoming hot as he began to text you.

'Are you currently alone? Yes or no?'

The moment he sent the message, he feared how demanding he sounded over text. Before he could express the intended tone, you already answered him. You were in fact: Alone. Riddle sucked in a breath as he eased his legs onto the bed and began rearranging the pillows against his headboard.

'I have a surprise for you. Please give me just a moment.'

His hands shook as he sent the message, his face was bright red as he laid his back against the pillows and cautiously eased his pants down his thighs. Your next text was that of intrigue, curiosity, all things that Riddle was hoping for. You continued with a short curious string of messages as he began palming his slowly growing erection, and used his less dominant hand to slide his thumb over the screen. He fumbled around with his phone as he opened the camera icon. Riddle was stunned by the sight of his own crotch on the screen, watching with an intense gaze as he began to harden under the dark red cotton of his briefs.

His breath caught in his throat and he held it there as he nudged the garment down, watching with widened eyes threatening to bulge as his erection sprang free. It tapped against his stomach as he awkwardly lifted his knee with his legs falling open. Precum was already starting to pearl at the tip and his mind only wandered to you. The remnants of your voice gently encouraged him to keep going in the back of his mind. His heart trembled in his chest as he snapped a picture, then another, and then one with his hand gingerly wrapped around the hardened flesh. You could see the sticky smear of precum glistening on his abdomen in the photo. Riddle stroked himself slowly and exhaled the breath he was holding. The picture with his hand posed around his shaft was sent to you as he awaited a response. He couldn’t help but stroke faster, seeing the text bubble pop up, then vanish. You were going to scold him.

To call him dirty.

To call him perverted.

He rolled his hips into a fist as a smile broke out on his face at the sight of your final message.

‘Can I come over?’

Trey Clover

Trey had no mental capacity for the lewd and inappropriate when it came to relationships. He was busy keeping younger students and his own Housewarden in order. When he finally had time for you, all the energy was sapped up. The only offerings were delicate kisses and him nearly falling asleep beside you from being so worn out. But he was starting to feel like maybe he should contribute a little more. Sure, spending time with you was his favorite part of the day after he finished up his duties, but surely there could be more for when the night rolled around. Curfew was strict in Heartslabyul, and Trey was required to set an example by being in the dorm before the hypothetical ‘street lights’ came on.

But something was different about tonight. You had expressed interest in showing Trey a few pictures you had snapped with Cater for a MagiCam trend. They had been locked away in the safety of your camera roll, and you found them amusing as you sent them to Trey over text. But Trey felt otherwise about the images. Regardless of your gender… The much livelier student had squeezed you into a bunny suit. Emerald green silk squeezing your flesh. Your bare legs are exposed. Pretty white heels on your feet with a tacky white rabbit headband perched on your head. Your smile looked like you were struggling to hold back a laugh due to how ridiculous you looked. Considering Cater was dressed in the same thing beside you with a wink and a peace sign. You didn’t want to share so much skin on your public profile, but Cater promised to crop you out of the photos he took of you together.

Trey was stunned into silence as the image soaked itself into the curls of his brain. A permanent stamp seared into his frontal lobe where he could picture your legs bare and exposed, in that tiny, silk, emerald one piece. With those stupid, flimsy white bunny ears. Trey wanted to yank you by your ear and scold you as he did with the underclassmen. He might even go as far as to bend you over his knee and spank you for wearing something so scandalous around one of his closest classmates. Even if Cater was dressed in the same thing.

It was different with you.

He struggled to remove any lewd characteristics from the image of you in that outfit. It was nothing more than a costume. One that you looked good in. But he couldn’t. It wasn't long before the member tucked into his grey sweatpants began to become thick with excitement. You texted him again after the long silence, worried that maybe he didn't find the image of you as amusing as he thought. Trey felt embarrassed. Almost ashamed as he quickly texted you back an apology for not saying anything. He liked the outfit. More than he should. 'You should dress like that more'

He sent the text then instantly was consumed with regret. He sat up panicked, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose with his eyes widened. He started an apology, but was halted when you responded with a flirty emoji, then a text that seemed to be very pleased with his response. Trey couldn't stop the way his cock jumped in excitement. A hand slid over his mouth as he choked back a sound. Trey was turned on. Very turned on. You suggested that maybe he should send you a picture as well. A fair trade since he liked what he saw. His mouth went cotton dry, and his hands began moving on their own. Some invisible force was controlling him and his movements. His hand that hid his mouth had now forced down his grey sweatpants and they sat mid thigh. Allowing his cock to spring free, and Trey couldn't help but stroke himself eagerly at the sight of your photo. He was ashamed over getting so worked up. Maybe he was like this from stress. Being pent up since he never actually had alone time. He thumbed over the tip, smearing precum over the twitching head as he swiped open his camera icon with his other hand.

He took the picture.

The flash was left on, illuminating the sight of his thick cock resting in his palm. The veins. The wet tip and how flushed it was. All of it was captured in photo form with the background shrouded in darkness. He throbbed with anticipation as he sent the photo to you, being sure to edit it with a message filter so it would be blurred until you swiped away to unveil the surprise. He gently stroked his erection, breaking out into a small fit of laughter as you sent him a message in response. Saying ‘WOOOAH’ and a long string of emojis to express your very obvious excitement followed.

Cater Diamond

He was no stranger to nude photos. He took them all the time! Cater only did this to seek imperfections and track the progress or the steps backwards. He laid in bed scrolling through an old collection of nudes he had. Sometimes he could get close friends to comment on how good they looked or if maybe the lighting was poor. Usually that was Kalim or Trey. When he started dating you, that was when he started taking more pictures and seeking more imperfections in himself. He would delete so many old photos he planned to recycle among old flings and new, but none of them would be worthy of sharing with you. He needed something new, something fresh.

Something that was worthy for you. Something that no one else had seen.

He sent you a playful text, asking if you were busy although it was nearing midnight. He had already slipped on a rice face mask, his bangs were pinned back with large colorful clips, and he was cycling through the nudes he took earlier that day. He propped himself up on one of the many emoji styled pillows he had with his laptop beside him, playing a skin routine video shot by Neige LeBlanche for white noise. He admired his craftsmanship as he looked through the collection of photos. All meticulously taken with perfect golden lighting in his personal bathroom. His face was obstructed by the phone's silly case and his cock was playfully hidden behind an expensive shampoo bottle on the counter. All taken so he was prepared to blow you away with his camerawork. These were perfect when he took them at two in the afternoon. But now after a second comb through? He hates them.

That pose is stupid. He looks fat in that one. His clothes can be seen on the floor in the background. He looks stiff and awkward. Cater sighed with his brows furrowed in disbelief that he had wasted about three hours of shooting photos only to hate the works of art hours later. He deleted them one by one, wanting to forget all of the imperfections he had found. That was until you responded back. That’s right, he took those for you. Cater sat up reading your message saying that you had just lied down for the night, hinting that you were alone in bed and Grim was asleep on the couch downstairs.

Cater felt antsy, his sheet mask slowly sliding down his face as he sorted through the garbage can for one of the more acceptable nudes. He couldn’t send you one now. Looking like this? That won’t wow or you excite you! Would it?

You sent a picture to him of your bare legs, propped up in the darkness as you asked him what he needed from you to be texting so late. Again, hinting that Grim was downstairs asleep. And the feline beast was a heavy sleeper. Cater hesitated before opening up his camera. He looked ridiculous in his sheet mask and his bangs pinned back with smiley faced clips. So, he flipped the camera to show you his red flannel pajama pants. He casually propped one of his legs up and sent the photo.

‘Just wanted to know. I wanted to send you something but none of them came out good!!’

He sent a string of crying faces next as he looked down at the phone. His plan being crushed due to insecurity and self-esteem issues. When you asked him what it was he attempted to dodge answering. But it was hard getting past you. Very hard. Because now you were sending him another picture, this one of your bare stomach, everything else that he wanted to see had been carefully cropped out of the photo. Cater swallowed, his face becoming hot as he peeled off the rice sheet mask and tossed it into the garbage. He stared at the picture a little longer, growing excited from the game you were starting to play as he rubbed the essence of the mask into his face. “Maybe… I can take a quick one.” Cater grabbed his phone with his heart now pounding as he slipped into the bathroom.

He met his own gaze in the mirror. His face was flushed as he looked down at your next text. A little question mark floating in the dark grey bubble. Cater felt a sudden push from the text, and lifted his shirt to tuck it under his chin. His chest was exposed, nipples growing hard in the cool air of the bathroom as he snapped the picture to send you, cropping it as well as he awaited the next one. And it was a below the belt photo.

His heart jumped into his throat as he quickly nudged down his flannel pants, keeping his shirt up and tucked out of the way. As he looked at the photo of you Cater panted softly, stroking himself to the sight as he fought back a small grin. You wouldn’t see the imperfections he saw in those dirty photos. Lust clouded your vision just as lust clouded his. He laid the phone on the counter, stroking himself slowly as he set up the photo to be live. He struggled to keep quiet, moaning softly as he stroked himself in the timed photo, watching himself in the lenses of the camera on his phone screen.

Cater looked depraved. He looked hungry for your attention. He looked like he needed to cum already. His face was wet from the sheet mask, his bangs were falling loose from the silly, smiley faced hair clips. Cater had pulled his shirt between his teeth as he stroked hurriedly so you had the perfect view to see him throb and struggle. He paused before sending the Live Photo. A wave of anxiety washed over him, wondering if this would be far too much to share already. But, you seemed interested. There’s nothing wrong with taking the next step.

When he sent the photo, blurred for your private viewing pleasure, he struggled to hide his smile as the screen lit up.

You were FaceTime calling him.

Ace Trappola

Ace yawned as he looked down at his phone, scrolling through MagiCam and occasionally liking a post. It was growing late in the night and he was starting to feel antsy. That burst of bad ideas before bed plagued him, and he decided to make you the recipient of any consequences that followed.

'What are you doing? I know you aren't asleep.'

Ace knew you the same way he knew his own body. The two of you had become so synchronized in spirit that he knew when you were awake, and when you were asleep. Especially when he was bored. It was a strange psychic power he had gained when he held your hand for the first time. Or maybe he was delusional, and had become better at reading you and your usual routine. It was probably the latter. You soon responded, sounding annoyed with him as it was nearing midnight and the two of you had classes in the morning. But why should Ace be worried about classes? He was bored, and clearly so were you if you planned to entertain him via responding and giving him the response he desperately wanted.

'Rate my dick pic skills'

Was all he sent next. It was an absentminded suggestion. Any idea after eleven pm was probably not the best. But in the moment? It was genius. Ace had been wanting to get intimate day one of dating, but after his last relationship ending the way it did... He didn't want to be at fault a second time. The suggestion sounded casual enough that it was like asking you what he should eat for breakfast in the morning. Sounding so normal that you responded positively. But maybe that was because it was late at night. He shoved his covers away, wondering what kind of photo to send first as he ushered down his sweat shorts with a huff. You told him to hurry up since you were tired, leaving him to pout as he opened his camera. His cock was soft, laying dormant beneath his black boxer-briefs as he snapped a photo to send you. Something tame as a feeling of regret started to creep up from the back of his mind. Maybe he shouldn't do this. Maybe he should just go to sleep. But when you sent the text to take another one, and that this one was 'lame', he shoved the voice aside.

The second picture was taken after a bit of gentle petting, becoming half flaccid and the shape was more prominent from beneath the fabric. Ace awaited your response with baited breath as he nudged his boxer briefs out of the way and thumbed at the tip of his cock. The regret and shame were coming back in waves. He shouldn't actually be doing this. He would wake up and be unable to look you in the eye for a solid week. This was just the exhaustion and lack of intimate contact that was thinking for him. You asked him for another picture, and he obeyed with a flushed face.

His cock rested in his slender fingers, his tip pearling with opalescent beads of sperm as he sent you another.

And another.

Ace couldn't stop the string of whimpers and moans as he fisted his cock, his knuckles being stained with thick hot strings of cum as he took picture after picture when you asked. He came, knowing that you were only a ten minute trip away. He came knowing that you encouraged him to keep going.

He came knowing that this wouldn't be a one time thing. And that he could ask you to rate more pictures in the future.

Deuce Spade

He wanted to surprise you, Ace said it would be a good idea since the two of you were dating. Lot's of people like surprise dick pics in their inboxes! Deuce knew that people took nudes in relationships. But it was more of how they were supposed to be taken. He went as far as to research images for possible poses to do. Should he take his shirt off? Should he shave his pubes? There were many differences in what men and women did in the lewd selfies, most of them felt too advanced for Deuce to try and replicate.

Deuce spent his entirety of track practice thinking about it.

What kind of picture should he even send to you? What would you want to see? Would you even want him to send you one first? What are the rules that go into sending dirty pictures? Jack checked on him, gently nudging him in the shoulder to bring him back to reality as they stood in the locker room together. "Ah, it's nothing! Just... Thinking..." Deuce answered sheepishly, but Jack wasn't buying it. But he wouldn't pry either if Deuce wasn't interested in sharing. When Deuce snapped out of his thoughts, he was alone in the locker room. He sighed, still thinking of what he should do for you. Would you really want a nude photo from him?

He pushed open the door to the locker room bathroom as he stared down at his phone screen. His expression was furrowed with worry as his mind raced, he left his sweat soaked shirt slung over his shoulder. He couldn't imagine what kind of expression you would make. What you would even say to something like that? He noticed you had texted him. Simply asking where he was hiding and if practice went well. You were waiting outside the gym for him to finally come out. Deuce hesitated with responding, looking at himself in the large mirror. Curiosity struck him like lightning as he locked gazes with himself.

'Just a sec'

The response he sent was short and sweet, a hand grazed over his abdomen. His own hand. The hand dipped towards the waistband of his track pants, fingers slipping inside as he thought of you. What you would want to see from him. You sent him another text as he opened up his camera from within your private texts. Deuce looked at himself in the mirror again, watching himself as his left hand slipped into his track pants. He palmed gently at his clothed cock, his breath hitching as he lowered his gaze back to the phone screen. He saw himself in the phone camera, and in the mirror. Deuce had no experience what-so-ever. Not unless it was with his right hand. He stroked himself, struggling to stay quiet in the echoing bathroom. You texted him again, asking if he was okay as he didn't respond to you. You threatened to come into the locker room if he didn't come out. Deuce's heart jumped into his throat, oddly liking the idea of you showing up and seeing him so turned on. He ignored your message again as his thumb hovered over the circular icon on his screen. He was hard, throbbing beneath his palm as he attempted to take the photo.

But he dropped the phone and it clattered to the tile floor.

The photo captured was him looking down at it, hard and stunned with a bright red face as he raised his hands in shock. Deuce stared in horror at the failure of a photo, coming back to his senses as he grabbed his phone from the bathroom floor. Maybe Ace was messing with him... Deuce closed his eyes with a soft whine, his erection slowly softening as he tapped an arrow button, assuming it would take him to the trash can. But it sent you the embarrassing photo instead. He stared at the next horrific failure, and slapped his hand against his head. It felt like he was truly doomed to fail and learn his lesson from doing this again. You didn't respond to the message as he sank shamefully to the floor. But he saw the 'read' icon right beneath it. Deuce felt like he wouldn't be able to face you for the next few days. Maybe even the next few months.

But those thoughts were whisked away once there was a hurried knock on the bathroom door and the sound of your voice.

Tagged Accounts: @ruggiethethuggie @cvlutos @fortunatelyburningaphrodisiac @vexloveschuuya @spiritanimals64-blog @thecosmicjackalope + please remember to fill out the Tag List to be tagged in posts!

#riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #gn!mc #gn!reader #Show Me Somethin’

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Clover Club // Robert Floyd

Summary: After a near fatal accident, Bob comes face to face with the reality that time really is fleeting. Deciding that taking the leap to love you while he has the change is better than to not have had the chance at all.

Warnings: Robert Floyd x Reader. Mickey Garcia x Stepsister!reader. Depictions of injuries sustained from a serious car accident. ANGST! & a lil bit of fluff.

Word Count: 8.3k

Author Note: I don’t wanna hear shit about this one. This is 100% Whump. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m sick in the head—but this entire concept was inspired by Claire’s accident in McLeods Daughter’s. If you aren’t Australian and haven’t seen it just look it up on YouTube. SAD BOI HOUR. Also: this also serves as a milestone post—thanks for the 2k following.

Bob hated his birthday. He had for three years. Not because he didn't like presents or because he didn't like cake. It wasn't because he did have friends and family who would celebrate with him each and every year that passed. It wasn't because he was a lonely person or someone who didn't mind the day being about him.

It was because it served as a memory of the women he lost. A memory he could never ever forget even if he tried. How could he? Reaching out across his bed to be met with emptiness– Bob opened his eyes with a long drawn out yawn. Looking around the bedroom to be met with just himself. Sitting up, Bob threw his legs over the side of the bed. Noticing the date on the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table.

His Birthday–

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Three years earlier

“This is just perfect, he’s gonna be thrilled—“ Rooster placed his hands on your shoulders excitedly as he shook you slightly. Standing behind you as he admired the birthday decorations that you’d worked hard to hang up around the entirety of the Hard Deck. Fairy lights and birthday streamers. Helium balloons in all different colours, and the birthday banner that read Happy Birthday Bob. “Bobs gonna love it.”

“You think so?” Rooster thought that you and Bob should have gotten together a long time ago. He thought you were two of the best people he knew and the undeniable chemistry you two both gave off whenever you were left alone to your own devices together just seemed like a perfect match. But that was just his opinion. The matter of fact was you and Robert Floyd weren’t even dating. It was more of a situationship than anything else. A blooming romance that enjoyed taking its sweet sweet time developing. “I just hope it’s not too much.” Planning Bob a surprise party for Bob’s birthday wasn’t something you thought you’d ever do, but it had been fun nonetheless.

“No, this?” Rooster questioned as he jumped over the bar, working quickly to pour himself a glass of beer from the tap. “It’s perfect.” Snatching the schooner from Rooster's hand before he could take a sip, you sent him a warning glare. Having followed him right around the bar before he could get too comfortable.

“Penny doesn’t like it when you flyboys come behind the bar—“ You reminded him, watching as Rooster rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders in defeat. Trudging along as he went to sit at a barstool. “I need to pick up Mickey from the airport and stop by Bensons to get the cake. Can you finish getting this place all decked out before the birthday boy arrives?” You wouldn’t consider yourself a hard task master. Simply a bartender who had a thing for the big eyed bigger soul weapons systems officer who’d always given you the time of day. But with the way Bradley Bradshaw was looking at you like you’d just asked him to cut off his own arm—perhaps a hard task master was more appropriate. “Rooster—?”

“Two on the house beers and a bowl of fries and you got yourself a deal.” Rooster beamed as he leaned on the bar. His elbows pressed against oak as you looked at him dumbfounded.

“On the house just means out of my paycheck you jerk!” Sighing as you fished your keys from your back pocket. “But fine, whatever—I really don’t have time to argue.” Stepping out from behind the bar you threw Rooster the keys to the bar. It wasn’t yet open for patrons. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Rooster shouted back as you raced out the door. Looking at your watch you had about an hour and a half to get Mickey and Bobs birthday cake before meeting Rooster and the rest of the TopGun gang back at Hard Deck. You’d planned everything perfectly, even reached out to Bob's family. His hometown friends, everyone who was important to him. “Drive safe!”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“So, are you and Bob a thing yet?” Mickey Garcia had been in your life since you were about five years old. His mother had been dating your father and as the years went on? He became your step brother. Officially. “I mean—if you’re planning the guy a whole ass birthday I think you should at least make a move don’t you think?” Mickey had been visiting your parents in Seattle on his annual leave, coming back just in time to make it for Bob's birthday.

“I’m pretty content just waiting in the shallow end.” You’d been hurt before. Pretty bad as a matter of fact. Driving back towards the Hard Deck with precious cargo in the back seat. Bob's birthday cake—the massive three layer sponge cake with fresh cream and white chocolate caramel. “We have time, I’m just trying not to get too involved, I mean—I think he might be interested. But I also just don’t wanna get my hopes up. And I’ve already told everyone to say it was you.”

“Me! I haven’t even been here!” Mickey laughed to himself in disbelief. “Bob is gonna know straight away that this was all you.” Mickey was probably right, but you weren’t about to put yourself out there like that. Not when you weren’t entirely sure where you stood. Sure, you’d really like to be exclusive? If that’s what you’d even call it. There’s been a handful of dates, a few moments where eye’s lingered and lips almost connected. But maybe Bob just wasn’t in it. Or maybe you were reading too much into it to begin with. “Besides, he’s different. I don’t think Bob would ever hurt you, not like—“

“Mickey—“ Cutting off your brother with a sigh, you shook your head softly as you drove down the road. “You don’t need to bring him up.” Your ex boyfriend had been that bad, that when you finally managed to get away all you took were the clothes on your back. Mickey was the whole reason you ended up in Miramar—when he’d found out that the daggers were staying as a specialist unit, he hooked you up with a job working for Penny. Keeping you close by surrounded by people who’d always protect you. He never expected you’d stay on your own accord. That accord being one Robert Floyd.

“All I’m saying is Bob is good people, he does like you, talks about you all the time to anyone who falls victim to it.” That made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t really felt this way about someone since high school. It felt childish—but in the best of ways. “Maybe just try to get him to yourself tonight?”

“Can’t, working behind the bar—“ It wasn’t uncommon for you to get side tracked talking to Bob as you cleaned tables and collected discarded glasses. Although you knew Bob wasn’t a drinker, he was one of the only few you’d ever bring a fresh glass to every so often. His order always the same every time. Lemonade with lots of ice, lime wedge on top.

“That has never stopped you before.” Mickey taunted as he looked down at his phone. “It’s beyond me how anyone actually gets a drink whenever you’re working and Bobs in the building.” You couldn’t help but to laugh with Mickey as you felt your cheeks heating at the embarrassment. The smitten kind of embarrassment. “You’re like a moth drawn to a flame—“

“I’ll drop you on the side of the road if yo—“ In an instant, what had been a simple drive back to the Hard Deck as the sun set, turned into a horrific scene of twisted aluminium and bloody bodies.

“WATCH OUT!!” It came out of nowhere, leaving you with little to no time to react more than slamming your foot down on the break. Only to be completely cleaned up by the car coming at you at what felt like the speed of goddamn light. The sound of tires screeching and glass shattering rang through your head as airbags did the best they could to stop your head from smacking violently against whatever part of your car you were thrown against as you rolled and rolled and rolled. Your car ended up at the bottom of the embankment just a five minute drive from the Hard Deck. If you looked close enough with your eyes squinted slightly, you could see it. The lights that had begun to glow a people that looked the size of ants swarmed in.

“Mickey?” You cried as you tried to move. Trapped. “Mickey you there?” There was no response as you listened closely for something, anything to give you a sign of life. Nothing. “Oh, oh god—“ Panic set in quickly as you felt yourself disappearing, the edge of darkness threatening to take you victim as your head spun and eyes rolled. Blood dripped from your mouth. The last thing you consciously remember thinking before coming to a complete stop was the cake sitting in the back seat. The car kept slipping down the embankment, slowly but surely creeping further and further away from the line of sight of oncoming cars. There’s no way it survived. Dizzy and feeling like you were hanging from the roof, you let the taste of iron consume you. Tired, you just needed to close your eyes for abit.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Bob had the slightest inkling that you had been up to something. He just wasn’t entirely sure what that something was. But as he came through the front doors of the Hard Deck and was taken aback by all the decorations, the balloons, the birthday banner that read Happy Birthday Bob. He knew in that moment you were behind this entire get together.

“SURPRISE!!!” Everyone in the entire bar cheered and shouted as Bob looked around at all his friends and family that had all come together to celebrate his birthday. It wasn’t something he did every year. Not one big on birthday celebrations. But as he looked around—his eyes scanning the entirety of the bar, looking amongst a sea of people? How could Bob not love his birthday even for a moment. You’d done this all for him he knew that the second he saw the specific way the streamers were twisted. But where on earth were you?

“Happy Birthday man, how’s it feeling huh? Another year older?” Hangman teased as he handed Bob a birthday hat. Something childish alright but it kept with the theme. Bob Accepted it with a smile and nodded in response as he tried to hide the blush creeping over his cheeks.

“Feels good—yeah, hey have you seen Clov?”

“Is she not behind the bar?” Jake responded with a questioning brow. If you weren’t here where the fuck were you? “Ah well, she can’t be too far away right?”

“No, yeah no I guess you’re probably right.” Bob tried to shake the almost gut wrenching feeling he had. Checking his phone to see if you’d messaged him, if he’d missed a call. The last text you sent being the one you sent him on his lunch break—reminding him to arrive on time. Sending you a quick message asking where you were before joining in on the festivities the best he could.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It was the smell of gasoline and burning rubber that broke Mickey Garcia out of his unconscious state. His first instinct was to unclip his seatbelt which had him hurtling towards the roof of the car that had somehow become the floor. With a groan, he crawled out of the broken passenger side window—army crawling his way along the dirt and grass that shattered glass had covered without a rhyme or reason.

Laying on his back, Mickey closed his eyes as dry blood covered his face. A deep gash still dripped fresh blood down the left side of his cheek. He could feel it dripping.

“Fuck—“ His torso hurt from where the seatbelt had locked up against him. Probably the only thing besides the airbags that saved his life. “What the hell—?” It shouldn’t have come as an afterthought but it did. “Oh fuck, hey—Clover!” Scrambling to his feet, stumbling as he held his hand to his torso, Mickey crouched down near your window. “Clover can you hear me?” It wasn’t your name, Clover. More so of a designated call sign the resident Aviators you surround yourself with had given you. You’d brought the cocktail with you when you started at the Hard Deck. Asked Penny if you could redo the cocktail menu. A Clover Club had quickly become the special. The mix of raspberry, gin and egg whites winning over the crew who seemed to take you under their wing. “Clover, hey—!” It looked like the scene from Carrie, the one where blood was just dumped over her entire being. Your seatbelt doing God’s work holding you into your chair upside down. Unconscious.

“Help!” Mickey could smell the gasoline leaking from somewhere close to him, so close and so strong it burnt the hair in his nose. “Help me–!” A voice so panicked sent shivers down Mickey's spine as he turned to see the other car. The one who had hit you, the one that had come out of absolute nowhere at a million miles and hour. “Please–” Checking your pulse carefully and as gently as he could, Mickey left you for much longer than he liked as he raced across to the other car, the man trying to claw his way out of the driver's side window. glass cut and dug into his skin as he fell to the ground. Bloodied, broken and bruised.

“You alright?”

“Does it fucking look like i’m alright! You guys hit me!?” Mickey couldn't believe what he was hearing, he did his best to assess the man as he kneeled beside him. “What the hell even happened.” Without question, Mickey knew the man was drunk. He could smell it just as prominently as he could smell the leaking gasoline.

“Okay, we need to get some help out here.” Looking around Mickey could see the Dard Deck just off in the distance. He could run it if he really needed to. Where was his phone? Patting himself down he realised it must have gone flying in the wreck somewhere. “Do you have a phone sir?”

“I did, somewhere, I was arguing with my wife.” Fucking perfect. A double whammy if there ever was one. Drunk and using his mobile. With a throbbing head and a weak constitution for blood, Mickey stood to his feet, making his way back to you. Just in time too, you were coming back to him. Squeezing your hand to gain your attention, Mickey crawled slightly into the car. Assessing if he should hit your seatbelt buckle or not.

“Mickey?” It came out so soft. Barley even audible as you came to. “What–what's going on?” Trying his best to keep you as calm as possible, Mickey sent you a soft smile. Looking up at you as you looked down at him. Blood dripping everywhere.

“Just had a bit of an accident–” Mickey squeezed your hand as he shimmied further into the car along broken glass. “But I feel like we should try and get you out of here, I'm not a big fan of the smell coming from the engine Clov.”

“Oh god, Bob–” It actually pained him to hear you say it. “It’s his birthday, the cake.”

“They’ll be other cakes Clover, but not another you alright?” Trying to keep his voice as calm as he could, Mickey's heart sunk into his chest. Your legs had been jammed up under the steering wheel column. Jagged edges of plastic from your dash stuck into your thighs, ripping them apart like no tomorrow. So deep he wore he saw bone. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better.” Coughing slightly, blood bubbled up forcing you to cough a little more aggressively. “Im so sorry Mic–”

“Not your fault at all.” Mickey was trying his best to keep himself together as he tried to look for his phone, to no avail. “But I do have to go get help so I can get you outta here.” It was almost as if you’d just woken up and realised what was actually going on. Because the minute you felt Mickey slightly pull his hand away from out of your grasp, you panicked. Tears fell with the gravity of being trapped upside down.

“No no no, don't leave me.” Begging as you cried, trying to unbuckle your seatbelt. It had become jammed from the impact. “Mickey don't you leave me here to die, please–please don't leave me.”

“Clov I can’t not get help.” Mickey tried his best to convince you, but you weren't having a bar of it. Clawing at your seatbelt trying to set yourself free as your steering wheel column dug deeper and deeper into your thighs. “Clover stop!” Mickey tried his best to still you, your hair caked with blood as he held you still. He assumed that there was so much adrenaline pumping through your veins that you couldn’t feel the damage being done to your legs. Either that or shock. “You’re stuck, please don’t make it worse by moving—“

“Get me out Mick—“ It was the worst kind of plea for help because Mickey Garcia was in over his head. He didn’t know what to do. On one hand he could find a way, but the damage he could do in the process might outweigh the cost of setting you free. On the other hand? He leaves you here to get help, what if you weren’t to make it? How could he ever live with himself? “I’m serious, get me out!” Screaming at the top of your lungs as you tried with all your might to free yourself.

“Hey shh, shh—listen?” Mickey looked around the roof of the car which had become the floor, your phone lit up across the other side. With his emotions running wild as he tried to reach it Mickey groaned. It was Rooster trying to get a hold of you. “Shit, I can’t get to it.” Just as Mickey was reaching for your phone it stopped ringing out—a loud overpowering explosion consuming you both entirely. Sending the car rolling over a little more down the embankment. Mickey had smacked his head as the car rolled, rendering him unconscious as you laid pressed against the steering wheel still trapped.

“Mickey?” It hurt to breathe. “Mickey!?” It hurt to speak. “MICKEY!” You didn’t know what had happened—what had caused the car to shift again. To roll over. Whatever blood had rushed to your head while you had been upside down was now pumping back through the rest of your body.

And fuck did it hurt.

Rooster stood on the front porch of the Hard Deck biting his cuticle as he listened to your voicemail for the third time. Where the hell were you? You should have been back by now? By a while.

“Dude? Where’s Clover? I thought she was the one who set this whole thing up?” Jake questioned as he came to stand with Rooster, picking up on the decorated pilot's worry.

“Should’ve been back by now.” As Rooster clicked on your contact once again—Jake jumped slightly beside him at the explosive fireball that shot up in the near distance. Just down the road.

“Holy shit what the hell was that?”

“Whatever it was, it can’t be good—“ Watching as the fire ball dissipated and thick black smoke followed in its tracks, Jake and Bradley were both too scared to admit to one another that they both had the same gut wrenching feeling. What if it had something to do with you? “We should check it out—“

“Yeah no doubt.” Before the two men could get very far down the front steps of the Hard Deck, Bob was coming after them.

“Oh my god, what happened over there?”

“We’re gonna go check it out man.” Rooster explained. “Stay here, enjoy the festivities! It’s your birthday.” Bob didn’t want to admit it, but without you there to taunt and tease? He wasn’t having all that good of a time. “Sure it’s nothing.”

“Well if you’re sure it’s nothing we’ll be quick and be back before anyone even notices, right?” Bob stood his ground. Hesitant to drop the subject because what Rooster didn’t know, what Jake didn’t know, what Bob didn’t know—was that they were all thinking the same thing. But no one wanted to say it out of pure fear. “So what are we doing still standing here?”

“He’s right, let’s just check it out and get back before everyone throws a tantrum—“ Jake had become a little less jerky and a whole lot more tolerable since the success of the uranium mission. But he still had his moments.

The road was pretty much a straight shot to where the explosion had been. The three aviators all jogged somewhat seriously towards the fire. The smell of gasoline and what could only be described as a mix of burning rubber, aluminium and human flesh completely consuming them the closer they got.

“Oh shit–” Jake saw it first. The familiar silver of your Toyota Corolla caught his attention as it sat crumbled up in the embankment next to what he could only imagine had been another car. Completely engulfed by flames. “Fuck–” Pausing in his tracks as he gripped Bob by the forearms. Pulling him back as his eyes widened. Realising it was your car. His heart immediately racing in his chest. “Don't do it to yourself man, go back to the Hard De–” Ripping his arm out of Jake's grip, Bob raced down the embankment, sliding down on his arse to avoid the steep incline and force of gravity. “Call an ambulance man–” Jake's voice was soft as he gestured to Rooster who stood completely gobsmacked by the sight before him. There was no fucking way anyone would walk away from this?

“Clover!!” Bob shouted as he stood to his feet. “Clov? Are you there?” In retrospect, yes it was a stupid question to ask. But Bob didn't know what else to ask. “Clov!” When he finally laid his eyes on you Bob held back his imident automatic response to throw up the entire content of his stomach. “Oh my god–” With a hand over his mouth to sooth the urge, Bob tried his best to open the door. Pulling at the handle to absolutely no avail.

“Won't work–” With your head resting against the steering wheel, you mumbled softly with your eyes closed. Conserving whatever energy you had left. Whatever light. “Bob–”

“Hey pretty girl.” Bob’s bottom lip quivered as he pulled himself through the broken window. Being careful enough to avoid the shards that threatened to slice his torso. “What happened, hey? Do you remember?” All he got as a response was a soft moan, anguish evident. “Can you open your eyes for me?” Bob was careful as he moved your blood stained hair from your face. Dried and stuck in the cuts and gashes that covered your cheeks, your forehead. Watching as your eyelids fluttered open and blood dripped from your slightly open mouth. “There she is, hi Clov.”

“Hi–” It was all you could muster up the strength to say. Small almost inaudible responses. “Mickey?” Bob wasn't thinking straight, he hadnt even thought that Mickey would be with you. He hadn't noticed Mickey sprawled in the back after being thrown around when the car rolled again.It was supposed to be a surprise. Pulling himself out of the window to turn back to Jake who had managed to find a way in, retrieving Mickey from the back before placing him on the ground.

“He’s got a good pulse, I don't know shit else Bob, they aren't in a good position–can you get Clover out?” Statement, question, statement, question. That's all Bob heard. He couldn't think straight. Couldn't see, couldn't hear. This was the woman of his dreams he was dealing with. He’d been too afraid to make a solid move on. “Bob!”

“Sorry, Sorry–ill uh, i'll try.” Shaking himself out of his own head Bob turned back to where you sat trapped in the driver's seat. Assessing the situation. “Clov, I'm gonna try to unclip your seatbelt, yeah?” You’d gone back to just responding with groans, eyes closed. “Open your eyes for me.” Bob reminded you as he reached in and around to unclip the belt that had come loose in the last roll. Shifting you slightly forwards when it unsnapped. Your eyes open just barley.

“I got you–got you a cake.” Okay. Maybe Bob could work with this. Keeping you occupied with absent minded conversation while he stayed with you till the ambulance arrived.

“You did? What flavour was it?” Bob's heart dropped out of his arse when he saw the damage that had been done to your legs. Specifically your thighs, completely cut into and torn off the goddamn bone from your sternwheel column. Completing trapping you regardless if he was able to get the door off its hinges. “Clover, what flavour was the cake?” He wasn't giving up, but Bob quickly realised the best thing he could do would be to just say with you, keep you talking.

“White Chocolate Caramel.” There was not a part of you that wasn't covered in blood. Bob knew the human body held a lot, but he’d never seen it leaking from so many places before.

“Well, I'm sure it would have been perfect.” searching for your hand, Bob gripped it as tight as he could. “I'm here okay, I'm not going anywhere, helps coming Clov.” This had to be the sickest joke the universe had ever pulled on Robert Floyd. He had a plan, you see. Bob was pretty sure that tonight would be the night he finally worked up enough courage to ask you if you wanted to date. Start off slow, go with the flow. Enjoy each other's company more exclusively. He wasn't sure if he’d ever get the chance to now.

“Guys, I'm pretty sure there's a dead guy burning over near the other car–” Rooster shouted as he raced down the embankment. “Ambulance is like five minutes away.” Bob didn't reply, he was too caught up with you. His eyes weren’t leaving yours as you just sat there, resting against your steering wheel. Face squished.

“Bob?” It was a sob. Clear as day. Bob noticed the tears welling in your eyes as they fell down your cheek. Mixing with the dried blood that caked your skin.

“Yeah Clov, I'm here.” Squeezing your hand as you gave him nothing back. Your fingers just twitching ever so slightly.

“I really like you, like a lot.” You didn't feel good at all, something was very wrong and you didn't want Bob to go about his life wondering if you did or didn't like him. Despite your insecurities? Bob had been a good friend. Always. You just needed him to know that there was more than friendship on your part. Just in case. “Just need you to know–” Coughing up blood as you really struggled to keep your eyes open and tried on Bob. “Just in case–”

“You aren't dying on me.” Bob was stern when you leaned further into the car. His face just inches away from yours. “You don't get to die on me, God if you die on me Clov i'll be–”

“Angry?” Of course he’d be angry, you ruined his birthday.

“Completely and utterly heartbroken.” Bob finished his sentence before you could let your mind run wild with the thought of Bob being angry at you. “I couldn't never be angry at you.” It was the Silence that fell as your face changed. Stilling as muscles relaxed and your breathing shallow even more than what it already was. “Clover? Hey– Clov you stay with me alright?” Bob panicked as he pushed your hair back out of your face. Your hand fell limp in his as you smiled softly at him just one more time. Your vision blurred and became dark and dazed. Sirens alerted Bob to the fact that emergency services were just getting to you now. They began racing down the embankment with gear they needed.

“What I would give to know what it would be like to be loved by you.” It was the last thing you said before darkness came for you, going completely limp as a steady stream of blood poured from your mouth. Eyes still open as your entire body weight collapsed onto the steering wheel. Bob couldn't believe it. No–he wouldnt let you just fucking die on him.

“Clover!!! Hey, no no no no don't you do this to me! Don't you do this, c’mon, you're alright.” Complete denial had set in as he tapped your cheek trying to get you to wake up. “No baby don't do this, please don't leave me–”

“Sir, step aside!” The paramedics on sight were quick to push Bob to the side. The feeling of his hand slipping out of yours Bob swore he’d never forget. “She's not breathing! Let's get her out of here quickly!” Bob stumbled back as he felt his heart racing, tears streamed down his face until his back crashed against Rooster. Finally breaking as he fell to his knees. Listening to the paramedics as they worked on you. “Where's the defib?” “I can't get a pulse!” “Pass me the saw now!!!”

“Bob?” It was Mickey's voice that pulled Bob out of his own head. Watching as paramedics placed him on a stretch with his neck in a brace just for good measure. “She loves you, you know.” Your blood was all over his hands, his shirt, his jeans. Bob couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think of anything else but how he’d never get a chance to love you as fiercely as you deserved to be loved.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

As you cleared the empty glasses from the top of the tables, you caught the sight of Bob in your peripheral. Sitting off to the side while the rest of the aviators he’d accompanied to the Hard Deck played a game of pool. Respectfully—it wasn’t Bob's thing. The pool table and booze weren’t what he came to the Hard Deck for. It was and always would be to see you.

“You want another drink Lieutenant?” Still working to clear the table before turning to face Bob with a smirk. “I can make you a mean mocktail.”

“You know I hate asking—“ Bob looked down at the empty glass of lemonade that he held in his lap.

“It’s not asking if I’m offering.” Taking the glass from Bob's hand, you stayed comfortably between his legs as his hand moved to glide against the side of your thigh, fingers playing with the hem of your waitressing apron. “One Clover Club mocktail coming right up.” It all seemed to give you a case of Déjà vu. You’d done this before.

Too many times to count.

“What about the cake?” Bob questioned as his eyes lingered down towards your thigh. Confused, you tilted his chin up with your fingers.

“What cake?” Huh, this was new. This wasn’t what you were expecting Bob to say.

“My birthday cake—“ Reaching out to cup your cheek, Bob left a bloody handprint against your cheek. “You ruined it.”

“What are you talking about?” Storm clouds were quick to take over the sunny sky that had been blistering outside the Hard Deck. Glass shattered around you as three branches smashed into the bar. “Bob! What’s going on!?” Falling to the ground on top of you—Bob protected you from the wild weather and broken glass. Bob used his body as a shield.

“Quickly, follow me!” Rising to his feet Bob took off running. Trying your best to follow him, you stumbled back to the ground. Your legs were numb. You thighs were cut up and bleeding, so badly you could see bone. Flesh torn apart. “Clover! Over here!!”

“I can’t walk!” Panicking you felt your chest tightening as the storm outside got worse. Where had everyone else gone? “Bob! Help me!” The entire Hard Deck looked as if it had been caught in the eye of a hurricane.

“I’m over here!!” His figure has gone, vanished into thin air. “I’m here Clover!” Where the fuck was he? Why did he leave you?

“How do I get to you! I can’t walk, I can’t see you!?”

“Just wake up.” Bob's voice had softened, like he was whispering right in your ear. “Please come back to me—“ Scrunching your eyes tight as you balled yourself into a foetal position a steady beeping came through the thunder. The beeping drawing you back to reality because when you opened your eyes again you were no longer at the Hard Deck. You were in what you could only assume was a hospital bed.

Cold. That’s how you would describe hospitals in one word. They were always so cold. The steady beeping of your heart rate monitor was the only sound you could concentrate on as you slowly but surely looked around. Your arm was casted. Had you broken it? Trying to shift yourself up the bed slightly you noticed how unbelievably heavy your legs were—or lack thereof. Wait—why couldn’t you feel your legs?

“I uh, I just stepped out for a coffee. Didn't expect to see you awake for a while.” Bob’s voice was soft as he stopped himself at the threshold of your room. Holding a large coffee in his hand and a fresh bunch of flowers he’d gotten to replace the practically dead ones that were in the vase across the room. Timidity, he entered. Not sure how to act even though he’d been by your side since you were moved into a room by yourself. “Not saying that you being awake is a bad thing, I just um–the doctors told me not to get my hopes up.” You didn’t say anything in response as you watched Bob fixed the flowers he'd brought you into the vase, discarding the old ones before he came to sit beside you. He looked tired. Scruff has settled in nicely across his chin and cheeks.

“It's that bad huh.” You cut right to the chase. Not wanting to beat around the bush too long with it. Bob just took a sip of his coffee as he tried to hold back tears. He’d gotten pretty good at it over the last week or two. He’d just swallow a bunch of times and clench his jaw to stop himself from breaking down over a girl who wasn't even his to break down over. “Bob?”

“I should go get your parents.” As Bob tried to leave, you reached out for his wrist, keeping him from moving away. He hated the little oxygen tube that fed up into your nose. He wanted to rip it right from your face. But he knew better than to do that. It just hurt to know you’d been through so much. That he couldn't do more to help. “Clov–”

“You won't sugar coat it, please?” You knew if your parents had a chance to explain what was wrong with you, they would give you all the odds and tell you to fight and keep strong. But Bob? He was a statistics guy. A realist. He knew exactly how bad things were. You could see it in his eyes. “I wanna hear it from you.” Running his hand down his face as he placed his coffee on the table beside you. Bob reached for your papers. Sitting back down in the chair beside you as his free hand squeezed yours. The pad of his thumb rubbing softly against the skin of your palm.

“Um–so–” Bob didn't really know where to start. Clearing his throat as he looked back to the woman he loved so dearly. “So you had an accident, a pretty serious one.” Explaining what had happened the best he could with the information he had. “I think a good place to start is that Mickey is already discharged, he’s good, a couple of broken ribs and bruises here and there but otherwise he walked away pretty unscathed.” That in and of itself had been a miracle. It was good to hear though. “A little bit of a concussion but that was to be expected.”

“Why can't I feel my legs?” You really just wanted to get to the worst part of all of it. Bob was reluctant to explain but he knew you would appreciate him just cutting the cord. “Rip the bandaid off Flyboy–” It was something you called him just to tase him. Flyboy. Even as you laid practically on your deathbed, you still had a massive thing for Robert Floyd.

“You broke your back in two places Clov, doctors said you had a pretty high risk of losing function possibly from the waist down.” Bob's entire demeanour changed as he lost the smirk that crept across his face at the pet name you called him. Settling for something more serious as he held your hand and explained what was going on. “They tried to operate, you know, clear the bone fragments that had shattered and tidy everything up. Relieve the pressure on your spinal cord.” Bob paused a he look a deep breath in. he’d had more time to come to terms with this but he still hadnt fully processed it. “The surgery offered slightly better odds on the paralysis front but you were in critical condition–the surgery came with real risk.”

“The risk being, I'll never walk again?” It cut through Bob's heart like a hot knife into butter.

“The doctors seem to think there's a slight chance, but if we’re looking at it from an odds perspective here Clover it's like one in one hundred.” But he told you the truth like you asked him to. Didn't sugar coat the situation at all. He told you openly what you were facing. “There's options like rehabilitation, but the chances of ever walking without aid again are pretty slim to none.” the silence lingered as you processed what Bob had just told you. Frowning, you simply tried to change the subject.

“Did you ever get another birthday cake?” Bob looked at you like you were on some sort of medication he wasn't aware of. “I think if anything you need a cake.” Pushing the hospital blanket off your legs you tried to sit up. But couldn’t on your own accord. “Bob, help me up would you?”

“Y/n” Bob hardly ever used your name. Noone really did these days. It always always callsigns and nicknames. So when Bob said your name it struck a nerve that someone was severely wrong. “I'm not gonna do that alright, just–let me get the doctors for you and ill–”

“I'm fine, see–?” Pushing yourself up with your good arm. A jolt of pain flashed up your spine. Gritting your teeth you tried to act cool. “See, now help me off this goddamn bed.” Trying your best to throw your dead legs over the side of the bed, Bob had to reach out and physically stop you. Forcing you to stop what you were doing. “I'm fine! I'm totally fine!”

“Clover your paralysed, please–don't make it worse just, please, i'll go get the doctors.”

“I dont need some fucking doctor! I need to get out of this fucking bed!” A nurse walking past had heard the commotion coming from your room, stopping in the doorway to see Bob struggling to keep you still in your bed. Paging for someone to come check on you before the situation spiralled out of control. “Bob if you aren’t going to help me get the fuck out!” Not knowing what to do, Bob ignored your pleas for him to leave, how could he do that when you were so clearly not alright. “Get out!! GET OUT!”

“I'm not gonna leave you here alone Clov” Bob tried to hold you still as he saw the doctors coming in. “It's just a lot right now–”

“Fuck. Off. Floyd.” At this point you didn't really know what you were saying as Bob stepped back and let the doctors who knew what they were doing take over. “Get out of here!” It was hard not to take things as personally as he did. Bob knew it was just the process of grief taking effect. It hits everyone differently. You didn't mean what you were saying, but the fact you had just been told you probably would ever walk again had your emotions everywhere. You needed someone to blame, someone to hate. Bob had just been the closet victim.

Watching as the doctors and nurses sedated you for your own benefit, Bob let his emotions escape as tears streamed down his cheeks. Standing over near the flowers he’d brought you. Settling you back into the bed, one of the nurses turned to Bob, offering him a few tissues.

“You shouldn't leave, she clearly needs someone–it’s most likely just the cocktail of drugs we’re pumping her with.”

“Oh I wasn't going to.” Bob was quick to clarify. “Just hard seeing her like this.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Bob had waited until your parents had arrived before he left your side. Since you’d asked him to leave he hadn’t been back. Well, as far as you were aware anyway. He’d slip in to check on you while you were sleeping, but he was too afraid to overstep a line you’d drawn in the invisible sand of your relationship. As days turned into a week, you’d begun to worry irreversible damage had been done to your relationship.

But something Bob couldn’t let go of was the fact he’d watched you die. He’d watched your light fade into nothingness. He’d watched the girl he’d pinned over for months with your intoxicating laugh and bright smile fade to nothing. He’d been given a chance to love you—he wasn’t letting that go.

He saw you out of bed, sitting by the window in the wheelchair the hospital had provided. Knocking gently, you didn’t turn around. For a split second—Bob was going to turn on his heels and dip. But he stood his ground. Clearing his throat as he entered your room.

“You know, I never did get to eat that birthday cake.” Bob started as he came to stand beside you. Noticing the glazed over look in your eyes as you looked longingly out the window. “So I thought, why not share one with my best girl.” A little bit of Bob's southern hospitality jumped out when he sat the small two person cake on your lap. Holding up two silver spoons as he ducked to kiss the top of your head. Chuckling softly, you shook yourself out of your daze. Watching as Bob sat down beside you.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you last week.” It was a heartfelt apology you knew Bob deserved.

“It’s not an issue, really.” Bob was quick on the draw as he shook his head. You didn't need to apologise for grieving.

“Why’d you stay away for so long then?” Silence fell for a moment before Bob decided to just be truthful, be honest.

“I just wanted to give you time, some space.” It was the truth. “I still came by and sat with you while you slept. Checked in with the nurses, your parents, Mickey.” Opening the plastic lid on the cake before he dug his spoon in as he spoke candidly. “You’ve kinda got me in a spiral here Clov and I dunno what to do.” It was Bob's first admission. Taking a spoonful of cake into his mouth as he sat back in his chair. Mimicking his actions you did the same, taking a spoonful of cake onto your spoon. “I'm pretty sure I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, but that could also be the whole I saw you die thing still making it hard to sleep.”

“What did you just say?” Coughing on the cake you just swallowed in a lump.

“The whole I saw you die thing making it hard to sleep?” Bob repeated as he frowned his brows. “I mean yeah, i just can't get the image out of my head, and then there's the blood–”

“No Bob, I wasn't talking about that–'' It wasn't that you didn't care about what Bob was going through, seeing someone die in front of you would be hard on anyone's mental stability. “What do you mean you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?” It felt so natural to say that Bob hadnt even realised how much that could weigh on a person. “Robert Floyd, you know I'm in a wheelchair right? For possibly the rest of my life– you can't do that.”

“Why not?” He was being so casual about it that for a moment you thought you were going crazy. “What law says that?”

“There's no law it just seems–” You paused as you hung your head low. Almost shamefully. “Unfair.” That really hit Bob. “I feel like you'd be more of a carer then a partner and I don't want you being stuck with a girlfriend who can't walk. Do you know how many things I'd be cheating you out of?” It really did sound like you were trying to talk Bob out of whatever decision he’d made about you. “Not to mention the process of–”

“You don't get to think of yourself as any less deserving because of this.” Bob was quick to interrupt as he brought you a little closer to him by your wheelchair. “You are the best person i know–”

“Bob please–”

“You're so funny, you light up any room you walk into.” Bob smirked as he saw your eyes get a little bigger, a smirk trying its best to take over the muscles in your face. “Do you know how many Clover Clubs i've drunk just so i had a chance to talk to you?”

“What do you mean?” You could not believe what you were hearing as you tried to hide your smile, biting your bottom lip softly as Bob softly rocked your wheels back and forth as he admitted his feelings, his little smooth criminal moves.

“I hate eggs, God the idea of drinking raw egg whites makes me want to vomit, but goddammit the way you would always ask, so nicely, so sincerely, how could I say no!” It was the laugh you let out that had Bob beaming. He hadnt heard you laugh in so long. “Even if it was non-alcoholic id still rather drink anything else than raw egg whites.”

“You should have told me!” Between genuine chuckles that evoked tears of joy, your smile had come back. Bob was certain at that moment he was going to marry you one day. “I would've just made you something else, or better yet brought you over something you actually wanted.”

“Now where's the fun in that?” Bob beamed as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. Holding you against him for a moment before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “Honestly, if you want to, we’ll take it slow and just see how things go? But this?” Bob gestures to the wheelchair you sat on. “Does not change how I feel about you. If anything it's made me realise just how fleeting time really is and all I wanna do with the time I've got left on this god forsaken earth is love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“You're gonna end up resenting me.” It was hard to trust that someone could love you with how broken you really were. “For all the things i'll never be able to do.”

“I could never resent you.” Bob was as honest as he could be. “Never could I ever resent you for just being you Clov.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Present day

Bob hated his birthday, a little part of him died that day. He would never take life for granted again. He cherished small moments with the people around him more than most people would ever know. Not only would he take mental pictures of life's greatest pleasures, he’d taken up photography in order to make sure he could always look back on the memories he’d made with the ones he loved. If Robert Floyd was around? You’d best be sure there was a camera not far behind.

Yawning as he made his way down the hall, Bob kicked away balloons that had littered the floor of the hallway. He knew you weren't far away.

“Babe, what is all this?” Rounding the corner of the living and kitchen area, Bob froze in his tracks as he locked eyes on you. “What the hell!” Completely stunned.

“Happy Birthday Baby!” You beamed as bright as the biggest star as you stood just slightly away from the kitchen counter. Standing still on legs that had not held your full weight on their own in three whole years. Your cane close by, Bob could see it sticking out from behind the island bench. But that didn't matter. Because as you took three very wobbly steps towards him unassisted? Bob couldn't have asked for anything else besides your happiness. “Been working towards this since you told me I was still worth your love.”

“You will never stop amazing me, pretty girl.” Bob was quick to catch you in his arms as you lost your balance, crashing into him. His lips on your in an instant as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were his one in one hundred chance. The love of his life. “I love you so much.”

Robert Floyd hated his birthday. His birthday brought around memories of the women he lost. Forever trapped in that smashed up car. But he’d never for a moment forget how to love the women who he had the chance to love as fiercely and as passionately as he did. He knew a part of you died that day, but he was just thankful to be able to spend his days with the best parts of you that were left.

“I love you so much more, Flyboy.”

#robert floyd x reader #mickey garcia x reader #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fanfiction #mickey garcia fanfiction #top gun bob

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Man of Many Talents

Pairing: Guitarist!Trey Clover x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, making out, fingering, coming in pants, clothed sex (for Trey) reunion sex

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Musicians have skilled fingers. From what I hear.

"Thank you and good night loves!" Trey shouted into to the roaring crowd, further cheers sounding through the arena. His mind was racing with adrenaline and energy from the concert but his eyes still found you in the crowd, of course they did, he spotted you the moment you entered.

You honestly felt small, in the crowd of passionate fans, yet it brought you unimaginable joy to know that Trey had eyes only for you, that his spotlight shone on you and you alone.

You watched with awe as he waived the crowd along with his band members, and while they blew kisses to their adoring fans Trey sent a wink your way. Of course no one other than he, his friends and you knew who that wink was meant for so naturally the crowd went wild for the lead guitarist, screaming his name, shouting how their love.

As soon as the stage cleared you made a quick line for the backstage, eager to see him. You knew which room was his, you didn't even need to look at the map, you'd spent a lot of time there already.

"Trey, I'm coming in." You announced to him and opened the door, anticipation blooming in your chest and exploding when you saw him inches away from you, his face sweaty but overjoyed to see you after so long. "Hey you." You whispered in the space between you.

"Hey love note." Trey brushed his lips against your cheek, softly humming the song from before, "Did you like the performance?"

You hummed in affirmation, arms threading under his gray and green jacket, you needed to feel his warmth, breathe in his scent. "I did. You were amazing as always. I watched all your shows, it was a great tour."

"Would've been better if I had you with me. I have a lot to make up for don't I? All those lonely nights we spent without each other. I couldn't stop thinking about you." Trey's hot lips trailed down your neck, his hands inching into your pants, his body trapping you against the door.

"I missed you too." Carefully you reached for his signature hat and placed it on the rack beside the door, allowing you to run your hand through his hair while the other hiked his shirt up, exposing his back. "I missed touching you. Wanna make it up to you."

"And you will. But first I need to take care of you. I noticed you know, how you looked at me up there on stage, for a moment I was worried you might start touching yourself from how horny you looked." He hooked two fingers over your wet underwear, finding your opening even with your panties in the way. "And here's the evidence."

"Trey..." You let out a shaky breath, you legs falling open on instinct, "Don't be a tease."

"Never my love. I'll give you what you need." With skilled, rough fingers he maneuvered your panties to the side and plunged into you with his middle and ring finger. An unashamed cry left your lips while the feeling of being filled by him threatened to overwhelm you already. "Missed you. Missed this feeling. Your pretty pussy taking me so easily. Shivering at my touch."

You might have been a sloppy, wet mess but you could tell by the bulge rubbing against you that Trey was no better. In fact he might be worse because you knew for a fact that he hated masturbating while touring. This always made him so pent up when he came back. All that cum, all yours to have.

No matter what his groupies say or may think about him you know the truth, you know that his heart and his cock belong only to you.

"Wanna make you come. Please Trey." You palm at his erection blindly, eyes watery from your own pleasure as Trey moves his fingers in and out as much as your pants allow. The heel of his hand keeps hitting, rubbing, slapping over your clit, sending shockwaves of mind-numbing heat through your body. "I love you." You breathe into his neck, "I love you. Please, please, let me...!"

"Patience my sweet." Patience he says while he's grinding his clothed cock into your palm at the same tempo as his fingers slip into your increasingly wet cunt. "I need to get you there first. Your cute moans and whimpers are the best kind of music to me. How I've missed hearing it. Those pretty, pretty sounds you make when you're getting fucked so well." His pace increases rapidly.

You can feel your mind going blank fast, your nails leaving faint marks on his back.

"That's it," Trey breaths against your lips before capturing them, "Squeeze around my fingers, show me how much you've missed me."

Your pussy gets wetter and wetter with every push, drag and hook of his fingers. He plays that tight cord inside of you with practiced fingers until it snaps. He keeps pushing, his lips on your neck mumbling how good you feel while you arch your back, head hitting the door behind you and moan his name in the most beautiful song for him.

While you're still tumbling in his arms he moves you towards the couch, your pants pulled down around your ankles as he pulls you into his lap to straddle him.

"T-Trey?" You whisper against him, trembling hands on his shoulders only shaking more as he pulls his fingers out and moves you against his bulge. "Trey!"

"Ride me pretty girl. Make me come." You whimpered as his hand grabbed a full cheek of your ass, kneading the flesh as your pussy left a mess on his denim pants. You couldn't care less about that now, not when you could see Trey with his eyes closed, enjoying the wet pressure of your cunt sloppily rolling against his twitching dick.

His thumb pressed against your clit, rolling and rubbing, sending a new wave of hot pleasure through you as you tried to keep up.

"Show them. Make me a mess with you pretty pussy. Let them know I'm your man. Scream until they hear you." The edge of possessiveness coming from him even while he surrendered himself to you like this only served to rile you up more. Your rolls got messy, your moans now nothing more than babbling as you felt Trey stiffen under you, his cock pulsing and getting warmer beneath your slobbering cunt, "Fuck yes, that's my girl. Come for me, fuck, so pretty."

Trey held you down against him, his fingers losing rhythm as you released another rush of slick across his lap and onto the couch. "Mine." You moan against his neck, undoing a few buttons so you can leave a red hickey on his collarbone, hidden from view, meant only for your eyes.

"All yours sweetheart. Always." He leans back as you travel lower, his shirt now fully undone, bare, slick, unmarked skin on display. "Wanna clean me up hm?"

"Yes." You hiss while you sink onto your knees, fingers already on his belt, "I missed how you taste."

"Hmm." Trey smirks, his cock twitching in anticipation.

"Trey we got another- Fucking Hearts!" Clover screams and slams the door closed, "Fuck! My eyes! Lock the door! Yuck! They want an encore!"

You groan in disappointment even while you pull his zipper down, "A few more minutes won't kill them." You kiss his bulge, already getting a faint taste of him. Trey chuckles at your efforts to take his boxers down while he pushes you away to readjust himself, "Trey! You're not being fair!"

"A few more minutes won't kill you." He jokes back as he pats you on the head, "I'll just be one song, I'll be back before you know it." He gives you a slow kiss, a promise of more to come. "Then I'll take you home and we can really get this reunion party going."

Even though you're not fully satisfied, you won't be until you have his cock inside you again, you let him go.

"Oh and one more thing." He turns as he slings his guitar around his shoulder, "I missed how you taste too." He grins before popping his two, still wet fingers inside his mouth and sucking them clean, moaning loudly at your taste, "See you after the encore sweetheart."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #trey x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fanfic #trey clover smut #trey clover imagines

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everydayyoulovemeless · 4 months

Note

How do LW and her teammates celebrate happy new year from Fallout 3?

P.S. Happy New Year! 🎆🎄

Fo3 Companions Celebrating New Years

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic ➼ A/N » Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy yourself!!

Charon's only ever celebrated New Year's by kicking drunken attendants out of the Ninth Circle, so it's safe to say that he awaits instructions of a similar volition from you. Did you want him to supervise you at the bar? Make sure you don't overdo it in any way? He'll do whatever you order. Although, he's very reluctant when you hand him the party hat and tell him he has the day off. He's not really sure what to do, so he just sticks by you for the rest of the night. He can't say it was the worst night of his life, but he'd definitely ask you to find a less crowded bar next year. He can only handle screaming and cheers for so long.

Clover hasn't really celebrated before (slavers don't normally care for holidays), so when she sees you preparing your home in Megaton, she quickly gets herself dolled up for the occasion. She wants to look good stepping into the New Year! And she wants to look good for you! She'll pop open a bottle of wine, have you sit down, and take care of you while everyone outside yells and screams. What better way to start the New Year than doing what she's always done best? Relax! She'll take care of you! And if you wanted, she'd gladly put an outfit together for you as well, then you could both look perfect when you leave and join the neighbors outside!

The Brotherhood always holds their own celebration at the Citadel, so Star Paladin Cross takes you over a few days in advance to help set everything up. You'll spend a day or two putting up decorations and counting bottles before the big day. Usually, it's pretty slow, but eventually, the place will be ready, and all the effort you put into the place will pay off. Cross will go and get wasted somewhere off in the corner, so you'll probably spend the holidays with complete strangers. Until Sarah shows up, that is, then she'll talk to you the rest of the night.

Jericho finds all the yelling outside to be annoying. This time of year is the one he hates the most just because of all the commotion. Out of all the pre-war holidays to still be standing, this is the one that was kept? Great. Usually, he prefers to lay in bed and ignore it until sunrise, but with you, he wouldn't mind going out and grabbing a few drinks at Moriarity's Saloon. The two of you sitting off in a corner as you wait for everything to die down. That's when the New Year's really begins with him.

A lot's happened to both you and Butch, so he's excited to be able to switch into the new year with you. Couldn't be any worse than this current one, right? At least the chance of being kicked out of your home is lesser now. He might technically be underaged, but he's snagging you both buckets worth of alcohol, and the two of you are going to party until you pass out. You both deserve it for everything you've had to overcome.

Fawkes prefers to spend his New Year inside. He'll set up a bunch of blankets, pour you a glass of whatever you want, and just relax for the night. You guys can do whatever he genuinely doesn't care. Red Menace? Put it into the terminal. Reading? He just finished organizing the bookshelf. Or even if you just want to talk with him, he has no qualms about sitting on the couch and chatting until midnight. It's comfortable, isolated, and welcoming, especially when you consider how cold it's gotta be outside.

RL-3 will either assume it's Independence Day or someone just opened fire on the town with the amount of homemade fireworks being launched. He'll either be cheering enthusiastically with the rest of the Megaton citizens or taking out his flamer. It's probably best to shut him off for this night. On the off chance, he assumes the worst is happening.

You might lose Dogmeat in the commotion. He loves the crowds of people and the colorful decorations, but the loud noises can make him a bit on edge. Don't worry too much about him, though if he's going to hide anywhere, it'll be with Moira or Gob, and they're both sure to take care of him for the night.

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Text

oddinary house pt 3

sandman!changbin x reader

genre: horror, fluff

content warnings: child abuse, allusions to su!c!de

word count: 1.3k

summary: after a cryptic message from the werewolf, y/n goes to sleep, only to get all the answers she needs

Take care of yourself reading this, don't read on if the things mentioned in the content warnings will trigger you.

ODDINARY HOUSE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The man approached the figure in her bed who was falling asleep, and sprinkled a fine amount of sand like dust across her eyelids. He crept around one side of her bed and blew softly onto her neck, causing her head to lull to the side and for the girl to fall into a dream filled sleep.

"Give her two lips, like roses and clover

And tell her that her lonely nights are over."

That same hauntingly beautiful voice she had heard before echoed before Y/N startled in her unconscious state. She appeared to be walking down a hallway in the mansion, yet it was one on a floor she hadn't yet explored. There were flashes of red lights, and she gasped as a figure lurked at the bottom of the corridor.

"W-who are you?" Y/N whispered, wondering who the man was as she braced herself.

But he did not respond. Instead, his body projected itself forward, the flashing red lights creating an ominous atmosphere. However, he looked completely innocent, the way he tilted his head as he held onto a sign that read 'hug me'.

"Hello, Y/N, I am Changbin," he grinned, the lights becoming static and shining down on the two of them. He stood a few feet away from her, casually leaning against the wall, a smirk rising on his face.

"You know who I am?" Y/N was confused. She looked around for a way out yet she was trapped in what felt like a long stretched out room, no more doors to be seen. At least in the real world she could run away, but she couldn't do so with the demons that haunted her dreams. She just hadn't met this one before, and hadn't expected to see him where she was currently residing.

"Of course I do, Y/Nnie," his husky voice drawled out. "How else would you have known to come here?"

"You sent me that letter? How? You're just in my dream," Y/N shook her head, not understanding how this was possible.

"Oh, but how else would I be in your dream, if I wasn't real? I mean, I don't normally appear in your dreams but I make them happen," he purred, taking a step forward.

"What?" Y/N tried to take a step back but she couldn't move.

"And you think that letter was real? Did you not ever wonder why you couldn't remember where you left it?" Changbin rolled his eyes, arms folded as he sighed.

"I just thought I had misplaced it," Y/N shrugged, fiddling with her hands as she couldn't look at the man, being, thing, in the eyes.

"I planted that seed. And I watched it grow. Now you're here," Changbin chuckled like it was obvious.

"Wait, you... planted it in my dreams? In my mind?" Y/N couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying.

"Well, I sort of figured that you wouldn't just turn up to a place like this on your own accord. But I saw something in you, Y/N. You're hurting, and so are we, but together, we can heal," Changbin's tone becomes more gentle.

"You know nothing!" Y/N defended herself. She felt distraught. Who was he to say what she had been through?

"Who do you think chased away your nightmares, huh? I make it all better, just for you, so now you need to help us," Changbin stood up straight, his broad shoulders becoming more visible.

"I don't owe you anything!" Y/N shook her head. She was beginning to feel trapped. Was this really better than being at home?

"I suppose I better remind you, that you do owe us, dear," Changbin huffed, before rushing towards you and a clap of dark glittery dust engulfed you.

She was falling, her breath caught in her throat as her head felt this dragging feeling, pulling her whole body down.

"No! No, no!" Y/N screamed, and suddenly she landed on a squeaky mattress. The scene of pastel pink walls, decorated with fairy stickers developed in front of her. Yet, there was clearly mould growing in the far side of the room, where the wood aligning the windowsill was rotting.

When she looked down at her hands, she saw smaller ones than normal, and she scanned her clothes to see it was the old pyjamas she used to wear, a Mickey Mouse t-shirt and shorts, holes seem on both of them.

"What the-?" she whispered to herself, and felt on edge as she felt the stomps up the stairs, and the angry mutterings of who was her father.

"Y/N! WHAT DID I TELL YOU HUH?" her dad shouted at her ferociously, yet the scene became more exaggerated and he turned into a beast, clambering his way towards her.

"Dad?!" Y/N whimpered, backing up into her bedframe as the giant like man picked her up and squeezed her in his hands, and threw her across the room.

"YOU HORRIBLE LITTLE GIRL!" he roared, fists pummeling into her body.

Even in her dream, Y/N could feel the pain she felt as a child. And now she was being forced to relive it, until she was falling once more, this time into a brighter room, landing onto a soft fluffy cloud. It was a world she always imagined, one she always escaped to when she was scared. A world she escaped to when she wanted to leave the one she was forced to live in.

"You see now?" Changbin raised an eyebrow, floating along on a cloud next to Y/N as she curled up on herself and groaned in pain.

"Why would you do that to me?!" Y/N cried, even in her dreams, even in the world where she was meant to feel safe, there were flashes of her past.

"You needed to see, Y/N," Changbin muttered, no sympathy in his voice.

"Make it stop! Please!" Y/N whimpered, hands desperately grasping and reaching for something but the clouds didn't allow her to do so.

"Do you understand now? Do you know why you are here? I can easily take this pain away from you, Y/N," Changbin casually threw a small pouch up and down in his right hand.

"Please, just make it stop! I get it now, I get it!" Y/N sobbed, and just like that, the flashes of her past abuse fading away.

"There there, I just had to help you see where you are needed. You understand now, that's good, dear," Changbin gathered you in his arms, soothing your shaking body with his magical aura, one that felt healing.

"I know you need me to help, but, why me, exactly?" Y/N whispered, Changbin's strong arms supporting her and helping her feel grounded.

"I sensed an aching heart. I found you one night on my travels. I told the rest of the boys about you and well, they all suggested you come and stay here with us, at Oddinary House," Changbin explained, petting your head gently.

"But here? And why did all of you want me to stay?" Y/N shook her head, still feeling bewildered at how she was meant to stay here.

"We've faced a lot of turmoil here. You can bring us back together, I just know it," Changbin vaguely explains, yet that explanation was what helped the most I'm everything he had said.

"Ok, I'll try to help you guys," Y/N nodded, feeling so light, floaty and comfortable.

"That's good, well done, dear. Give us a chance, and it'll all work out fine," Changbin soothingly rubbed his fingers into her temples, before he faded away, and Y/N had a peaceful sleep. Flashes of a future with the three residents of Oddinary House, that she had met so far, were subconsciously absorbed into her memories.

Changbin wanted her to see that this is where she belonged, where she was meant to be. Hopefully, Y/N would recognise that too, maybe even if it took meeting everyone else that lived there.

taglist: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @amararosesblog

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blues824 · 1 year

Text

Siren! Reader x Heartslabyul

Poll Winner. Gender-neutral reader. Doing this by dorms.

Riddle Rosehearts

Upon hearing that his beloved rose had turned into a siren because of a potion-gone-wrong incident in class, he immediately went to go look for you. He asked around, and you were taken in by the Octavinelle dorm so that you didn’t dry out. He made a note to thank Azul at a later date.

The people he asked turned out to be right, and the Housewarden of Octavinelle led him to you himself. Riddle had to admit that you were absolutely breathtaking as you swam about. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he cleared his throat. You quickly turned around and hugged him, wrapping your tail around his legs. He was blushing so hard at this sudden display of affection.

Your Housewarden of Heartslabyul here spent more time than he should have just visiting you every single day for 5 days. In two days’ time, you would return to normal. You seemed saddened by this fact, and for some reason the way you said it made him sad as well.

The song emitting from you haunts him at night. Sirens were known for using their voices to lure sailors to their deaths, and he was the sailor in this situation. Everything in him just wanted to go to you, but he refrained with all of his willpower. However, on the 7th day, he found it too difficult to resist.

He quietly snuck out from his own dorm and into the Octavinelle dorm. For some reason, everyone besides the two of you were still asleep. Was he the only one who could hear your song? It didn’t matter, because you were singing to him and he was leaning forward towards your lips.

No one saw him until the next morning, and he smelled like sea salt and he had hickies all over his neck. He did his best to cover them up, but it didn’t really work. Ace tried making fun of him for it, but he quickly got beheaded.

Trey Clover

He was surprised when Ace and Deuce told him that there was a mishap in potionology class and they accidentally turned you into a siren. He dropped the bag of flour that he had in his hand as he rushed over to Octavinelle, where the troublesome duo said you were taken to.

Azul actually led him to you, because “he was not one to deny a man of his true love”. The thought of you being his true love made the baker blush, but he shook it off once he laid his eyes on you. You let out an exclamation of excitement as you swam to hug him and kiss him, but before you could do the second he stopped you.

You see, the Housewarden of Octavinelle had warned him that there was a story in the Coral Sea that if a siren managed to kiss a sailor who was under their spell, they would never be able to recover. Trey was taking the necessary precautions, even if it hurt both him and you.

Unfortunately, your song was a completely different thing. He usually stays up late baking treats for the next unbirthday party, but he can hear your singing. You sounded sad and lonely, begging for him to come to you. He usually is one to keep his head when it comes to ordeals such as this, but when it involves you, his heart wins.

So, before he knew it, he was sneaking out to go to you. If anyone had seen him, they would have thought that he was a zombie. Once he got to the pool where you resided, he knelt by the side and you cupped his face as you finished the final verse. You concluded the melody by pulling him into the water and kissing him right as the clock struck 12.

Luckily, Trey was not locked within the spell, but he was still going to indulge himself in the kiss. Whenever Riddle asked where he had gone, he said that you had an emergency and that you needed assistance. No other information was disclosed.

Cater Diamond

He was freaking out because you were not answering his calls or texts. It was like the 127th time dialing your number when he got a call from Ace. Bro dropped his phone and ran to Octavinelle, not giving anybody the time of day.

When he made it, Ace and Deuce led him to you, who was peacefully swimming in the pool and loving the feeling of being hydrated. Cater knelt down by the side and just watched you swim, completely mesmerized. He wasn’t listening to any warnings that the others tried to give him and just brushed them off.

For some reason, it felt like a knife through his heart whenever he was away from you. He spent significantly less time on his phone because he spent most of his time with you or thinking about you. Sure, he could look at pictures of you on his phone, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Then there was the matter of your siren song. It didn’t exactly help the feeling of pain when he missed you. Eventually, it got to a point where it was too much and he had to go see you. He forgot that this would be the night where you would turn back, but this was where your song reached its peak in power.

Cater could not resist the lull your voice had as you held his face with such a loving gaze in your eyes. He was the only one you wanted, his heart told him. He forgot that he had his phone in his pocket as you leaped out of the water a bit just to pull him in with a kiss. His phone was ruined, and no bag of rice was going to save it.

The next day, he wasn’t even angry about it. You did have to pay him back with a bunch more kisses, though. But, it wasn’t like you were complaining about this little ‘deal’. You were just glad that he wasn’t under the effect of the song anymore.

Ace Trappola

He was probably the one who accidentally turned you into a siren, and was consequently the one who brought you to the Octavinelle dorm. He had a hard time trying to convince himself that him finding you attractive with the tail was just the effect of the spell.

You seemed free within the pool, like you had no care in the world. He could watch you swim about all day if he was allowed to. Ace eventually had to leave for curfew, but there was not a moment during the walk to Heartslabyul where he wasn’t thinking of you.

The dream that the first year had that night was about you kissing him in your siren form, and that’s when he realized that not being able to sleep in the same bed with you or just kiss you in general was going to be harder than he originally thought. But, his desire to not be caught in your spell was stronger than his desire to feel your lips on his.

Unfortunately, when you started singing your siren song, his desire to see you and kiss you won on the 7th day. He, as quietly as he could, made it to the pool with swim trunks on. He quietly slipped into the rather cold water, waiting to see where you were. Your singing got closer and closer until he saw you right in front of his face.

Later, he would admit that he was embarrassed how down bad he was for you, but that moment was not right now. No, he melted as you held his face within your hands and leaned forward as you finished the final verses. Upon the last note, you pulled him forward into a very passionate kiss right as the clock struck 12.

Poor Ace was beheaded for being out of Heartslabyul past curfew without the permission of the Housewarden, but it was honestly worth it. He essentially got to make out with his significant other in a pool… so he considers it a win for himself.

Deuce Spade

The ex-delinquent was very close to beating up Ace for messing up the potion and turning you into a siren. However, you were quickly drying up, so he picked you up in his arms and quickly took you to Octavinelle where he got permission to place you in one of the moon pools.

Luckily, Azul was there to make sure that Deuce wasn’t caught up in any trickery of yours. He refused for the first year when you gave him a pout and begged him to cuddle you in the water. The second year gave him a piece of advice that he wasn’t listening to at all before leaving you both by yourselves.

Had it not been for Jack or Ace, he would have gladly skipped Track & Field as well as just typical classes to be by your side. But, the two dragged him to the respective places, even if he was making it difficult. They would both give him crap about it at a later date.

It was worse at night. All he wanted to do was answer your song by going to you and wrapping his arms around you. He did pretty good up until the 7th day, where the urge got to be too much. He quietly made his way outside of his own dorm and onto the way to Octavinelle, not really caring if he was breaking a rule.

When he saw you in the pool, he sat on the edge and just listened to your singing. He didn’t even jump when he felt your hands make their way up his leg, nor when you shot forward a little to grasp his shoulders. He held your face and pulled you forward and placed an uncharacteristically long kiss on your lips. He would have been in trouble had the clock not struck 12 right at that moment.

He was also beheaded by Riddle, but he also agrees that it was worth it. He was just lucky that he wasn’t locked within your siren spell. But, now he cherishes each kiss he has with you because who knows the next time when he has to starve himself of them for his or your sake?

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switchyglitch · 4 months

Text

A New Sensation Explanation || The Owl House (Hunter x Willow)

HO HO HO, Merry (late) Christmas to @thebest-medicine , I'm you're @squealing-santa writer! I was ecstatic to get to write for The Owl House, and even more so when I saw your list of characters to use included Hunter and Willow! 🤩

I hope you enjoy your fic! 💜

🚫 MINOR SPOILERS AHEAD FOR SEASON 3 OF THE OWL HOUSE 🚫

Summary: On a day like any other, while teasing Hunter who's refusing to take a break, Willow accidentally discovers that he's ticklish. The discovery doesn't seem to be only hers though, as Hunter's never experienced tickling before. Now Willow gets to explain this new sensation, and treat him to his first ever tickle attack. The question is, how long can she remain in control of the situation?

Word Count: 1,426

Note: This is officially my longest fic yet, and I'm honestly quite proud of it ☺️ I really hope I was able to keep Hunter and Willow accurately in character. Admittedly it's been a bit since I've watched any episodes, plus in general this is really one of the first full fics I've ever done with existing characters. I think I did okay though and I'm pretty dang happy with what I've made!

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

One relaxed morning, Hunter is alone in the previously abandoned house near Luz's, sitting on the floor and fully engaged in a book while Flapjack sits on his shoulder and reads along. His focus is quickly broken as he's spooked by a knock at the door, causing both the book and Flapjack to go flying as he jumps.

"C-Come in!" Hunter says, still a bit rattled.

"There you are," Willow says as she lets herself in, Clover flying along beside her. "The house felt lonely with everyone out and about, figured I'd track you down to see what you're up to."

Hunter smiles a bit at the idea that she would come looking for him. "Ah, well, I was just studying up on some Spanish. I feel like I'm lagging behind the others."

"Wellll I wasn't going to say anything, but you have been saying 'aloha' instead of 'hola' for a few lessons now, and according to Luz that's a different language entirely.." Willow giggles a bit, putting her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop so she wouldn't make him feel too bad.

Hunter sighs in frustration. "I'm never gonna get the hang of this, or catch up with all of you."

Willow notices his expression growing sad, and gently places a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you'll get there in time. Heck, counting your mistake you're speaking one more language than any of us, that's something."

A small laugh escapes Hunter. "Yeah, I guess that's something."

Willow smiles. "Why don't you take a break for a bit and grab a snack?"

"Maybe later, I should probably keep studying." Hunter grabs the book off the floor and tries to find the page he was on.

"Noooo, you need a break, put it down." She says, sitting beside him.

"I'm never going to get better if I don't continue studying, I can eat sometime la-AH!" Hunter's words get interrupted as Willow pokes his cheek. "Hey, what gives?!"

"I'm not leaving you alone until you take a break, boop!" She boops his nose, then starts poking random spots with both index fingers.

"W-Willow! Cut that out, you're not going to change my mind!"

"I'm sure I can, just need to find the riiight spot. How abooout.." Willow pokes Hunter's side, and he suddenly jumps.

"EEP!" He squeaks, then immediately scoots back, blushing red and embarrassed.

Willow's expression goes from slightly spooked to a suspicious grin. "Hunter.. Are you.. ticklish?" Her grin widens with that last word.

Hunter's embarrassment dies down a bit, replaced with confusion. "W-What's 'ticklish'?"

"Oh come on, like you don't know, ya goof!" Willow smirks and pokes both of his sides a few more times, causing more squeaks and giggles, but also increased confusion.

Hunter looks down at himself. "Why am I laughing, how.. how are you doing that?" He looks back up to Willow, waiting for answers.

"You.. really don't know what tickling is, do you?" She says, receiving only a shake of the head indicating 'no'. Willow lets out a giggle, realizing she'll now have to explain this to him. "Well, tickling is a type of gentle way of touching someone that makes them laugh. And if you're very sensitive to those types of touches, it means you're ticklish."

"Oh, interesting! So I'm.. ticklish?" Hunter asks.

"Yes, yes you are." Willow says with a proud smile now that he's getting it. "I can't believe you've never heard of tickling before."

"Well Belos was never one for pleasant touch, and the rest of the Emperor's Coven just kind of kept to themselves. This sensation is fascinating though." Hunter says, looking back down at himself.

Willow hesitates for a moment, but decides to ask a question. "Hey, would you like to experience some more? I mean, only if you're comfortable."

A warm blush appears on Hunter's face, remembering how quickly the sensation overtook him, plus the fact that it's Willow doing it. "Well, um.. if you'd like. I'm.. fairly curious."

"Haha yay, okay let's do this!" Willow positions her hands at his sides, hovering a few inches away. "Ready?"

Hunter's blush increases heavily as he stares at her hands. "R-R-Ready!"

Fingers begin scribbling up and down Hunter's sides, immediately causing a load of loud giggles, mainly from Hunter but some from Willow as well. Her face is glowing, happier than ever seeing her friend laugh more than ever before.

"Ahahaha!! Thihis is strahange!" Hunter says through his laughter, still wrapping his head around the whole concept of tickling.

"Haha yeah? I hope you're at least having fun!" Willow says, still worried she may be pushing him further outside of his comfort zone than she should. He doesn't reply, instead covering his face to hide the darker shade of blush. "You are, aren't you? You're liking being tickled!"

His face still covered by his hands, he shakes his head. "QUIHIHIET!!"

"Aww, let's see where else you like being tickled. Let's try here, and here, aaaand here!" Willow's fingers dance across various tickle spots as Hunter fails to squirm away. First his underarms, then his tummy, and then his neck which seems to be especially ticklish.

"NAHAHAHAHA!! FLAHAP HELP!!" Hunter shouts, desperately reaching in Flapjack's direction. The little palisman flies up to his hand, transforming into his staff form for Hunter to grab onto. Once he does, the two phase away from the tickle attack and across the room, allowing him to catch his breath.

"Hey!" Willow shouts, playfully. "You get back here, there's still some spots we need to test. You know you want me toooo." She wiggles her fingers in his direction.

Hunter's blush is as red as ever, smirking a bit seeing Willow enjoying herself so much. "Y-You stay back!" He shouts, hoping she won't.

Willow smiles and runs at Hunter, who phases across the room again. She runs at him and the same happens, and again, and a few more times. "You cheater, I'm gonna get you if I have to do this all day!" Willow says, giving a playfully evil smile as she draws a glowing green circle in the air, making a small vine grow from the floor to grab Hunter's leg. He panics and phases once more, landing right behind her, and instinctively copies the action that started this all and pokes Willow's sides. "AH!"

Hunter sees her face as she turns to face him, her cheeks turning the color his were just moments ago. Suddenly the evil smirk that was once hers now creeps onto his face. "Willow.. Are you ticklish too?"

"Don't you dare!" She says through a smile, secretly hoping he'll take the initiative, and her wish quickly comes true. Hunter does his best to mimic her finger movements over the same spots she tickled him, seemingly doing a good job as she squirms and wiggles in his grasp, laughing just as loud as he did previously. "STAHAHAP THAHAT!"

Hunter smiles seeing how much fun she's having, his eyes lighting up knowing that he's making her feel that way. "Oh this is fun, I can see why you like doing this! Making you laugh is.. really fun!"

Willow blushes, happy to have given him such a fun new experience. Though despite the fun she's having, she wants revenge. "CLOHOVER! GET HIHIM!!"

Hunter's eyes grow wide. "Wait, what?" The fluffy bee palisman flies over to him, nuzzling into his neck. "Hehehey! Quihit it, you! Ahaha!" Hunter falls to the floor in a fit of giggles. "Flahap! Gehet her!"

"Wait no! NO! AHAHA!" Willow falls back as Flapjack brushes his wings on her tummy.

The two laugh and squirm on the floor next to each other, as each of their palisman tickles the other. This goes on for several minutes until they both yell out for a truce, calling off their small friends and catching their breaths.

"Thahat.. was perhaps the most fun I've ever had." Hunter says, smiling wide as his breathing slows down.

"I'm so happy you had such a good time, you deserved it. I had the best time too." Willow says, with a small yawn. "Goodness that took a lot out of me."

"Me too." He says, realizing how much he's struggling to keep his eyes open.

Willow pats her shoulder. "Come here, you dork."

"O-Okay." Hunter says with a blush, moving closer to lay his head on her shoulder.

The two cuddle close with their palisman joining the cuddle pile, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms, both smiling from the fun time. Both hoping it could happen again sometime soon.

#squealing santa #squealing santa 2k23 #the owl house #hunter noceda #willow park #hunter x willow #tickle fic #tickle fics #tickle #ticklish #tickling #tickles #tickle community #lee #ler #switch

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alina-dixon · 8 months

Text

A Fable

Pairing: Morpheus x Male reader

Warnings: violence, blood, captivity, fluff.

Requested: Yes / No

Part 1

A/N: The reader is the Hero from Fable 2! I really love the game Fable 2! So I thought why not? Have fun reading!☺️❤️

___

It's a cold winter day in Bowerstone, you and your Sister Rose are standing at a fireplace. You and Rose are homeless. You are only nine years old and your sister is fifteen. You were just trying to get warm, when suddenly something fell on your head and when you touched it you immediately knew it was bird poop! Your eyes went wide and tried to get rid of it while making a disgusted sound.

Rose looked weirdly at you while having her arms around her body to stay warm. “What was that? Oh! Yuck.” she said while taking a step back. When you stopped she put her arms back around her and so do you with yourself. “Well… That’s lucky. Like finding a four-leave clover. Although I think I'd prefer the clover.” her voice sounded a little awkward when saying that.

Then she looked at the castle amazed that stood in the center of Brightwood. “Look. little Sparrow…Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow. Imagine the grand dining hall. I bet Lord Lucien’s having roasted duck at this time of the year.” She ranted while you just kept quiet while putting your hands over the fireplace and listened to her ranting.

She put her hands on her hips. “But he must be really lonely since his wife and his little girl died. In that big castle, all by himself… If only we could live there.” She looked at the castle with a sad expression.

Suddenly there was the sound of loud cheering heard from behind the houses. “What is going on over there? Come with me, little brother.” she said while running in the direction of where the sound came from. So before you could say anything you followed her, but you were a little behind.

When you turned into the alleyway and went farther down you saw a man talking to your Sister, You saw him talking to her a few times back then. “Hello there, young Rose. You look hungry. Have you reconsidered my offer?” he said oddly nice but also very weird. You of course do know what he's talking about.

You approached them slowly. Rose had a disgusted and angry look on her face. “We’ll never be that hungry. The answer is NO!” That angered the guy. “You’ll be back. And I'll be waiting for Ya.” he said with an angered tone, then walked away.

Rose sighed and looked at you. “Come on, little Sparrow. Let's see what's going on.” she said as we both ran again to where the sound came from. Rose sighed again. “That filthy creep… I hate him.” she spat.

You finally arrived only to see a crowd around a taider. “Oh… It's just a trader. I can't see anything through the crowd.” She was clearly disappointed.

“A-ladies and a-gentlemen… I have traveled the land accumulating wondrous and mysterious objects! Which I now offer to you for the modest price of five gold coins!” he said proudly.

“Consider this. This is truly a magical mirror. For as long as you look into it, it will make you beautiful!” he said lowly. “I'll take it!” a random guy screamed from the crowd. “Very wise! Now just remember: the magic only works if you look at it in complete darkness.” He had a smug look on his face.

The trader turned to something that looked like a music box, but it was completely made of metal. “Ah, now this is truly a marvel.” he said smiling at it. “This small, unassuming box is actually a device created by the ancients. As was used by the old rulers of the kingdom themselves! Turn the handle three times, and you shall be granted a single wish!”

Rose looked unamused at this and scoffed. “There’s no such thing as magic!” she said and she thought that nobody heard it because they were busy watching the trader, but hooded women turned towards us. When you saw her eyes, you noticed that she was probably blind.

“We live in grim times indeed, if the young doesn't believe in magic anymore. Most children your age believe eagerly.” she said in a calming voice. Rose looked at her weirdly but you thought that she was right, only because you believed in it yourself. “Look, I can see your eyes are bad, but I'm telling you, that magic box is rubbish.” while she said that the crowd beside us was getting smaller and smaller until everyone was gone.

“That's what the seller thinks. He has no idea what he stumbled upon. But you have an inkling, have you? Some part of you wants to believe it's magic.” Her voice still calm as before, she turned around already walking away from us.

Rose looked looked at he women surprised. “What? You… you really think it could be?” she asked hesitantly. The woman stopped but only turned her head to the side. “For five gold coins, you could have your own answer.” Rose looks dumbfounded at her answer. “For five gold coins, we could eat for a weak.” Rose frowned.

The women started walking away. “Listen to me, Rose. At the end of the week you and Y/N would be no closer to your dream- no closer to the inside of that beautiful castle.” she started. ‘She, is right actually…’ is all what you thought to yourself.

Rose turned to face you frowning slightly. “What if it is real? I bet we could get five gold coins… and maybe this could be a way out of here, after all. What is there to lose, little sparrow?” she sounded confident. I smiled at her. “Probably nothing!” Rose laughed then nodded. “All right! Come on, there must be someone around here who will pay us to… do something.” with that we went around town to earn some money.

After about half an hour we finally had our five coins to buy the music box! Rose and I went back to the trader. The Trader Murgo looked at you smiling. “Hello children.” he said happily. Rose and I smiled back at him. “Hello, we’ve come to buy the music box.” she started still smiling.

I walked towards the man held my hand in front of him showing him the five coins. “Very wise, little ones! Go ahead and turn the handle- but mind you go somewhere quiet, like.” he smiled at the both of you. “Okay thank you! Bye mister!” you waved at him. “Let's go make our wish, little Sparrow!” she said excitedly, as you both started walking back to your little stay.

You put the music box onto a box wooden box that was around half of your height. “Alright turn the handle!” Rose was a nervous as you started to turn the handle. “I wish… I wish…” After she said her wish the box opened and started glowing in a bright golden color. A beautiful sound was playing but then the music box started rotating and the music got faster, the golden color was turning red and then all of a sudden, the music box lighted up in a bright golden color and disappeared right in front of our eyes!

You and Rose we're shocked. “But… where did it go? Why are we still here? Five gold pieces… Let's just go to bed.” she sounded sad and disappointed. You yourself were sad at this, but still you followed her. “Oh. I was so sure this was it. I had this feeling like… that we weren't going to be stuck in Old Town anymore! Why didn't the box take us with it?” she still sounded sad but tried to push it aside. “Come on, Sparrow, go to bed.” so you both lay down to end the day. “Good night! Love you big Sis!” you said turning to your side. “Good night. I love you too, little Sparrow.” and with that, you both went to sleep. You only hoped that tomorrow would be a better day, and Rose won't be sad anymore.

It was still nighttime when Rose woke up to the sound of footsteps, scared that it could be a thief or something like that. She carefully opened her eyes and stood up, and when she saw who it was she was relieved, I was only the guard that they helped to earn some money for the now gone music box. “What do you want?” asked Rose the guard curiously.

The guard cleared his throat. “I work for Lord Lucien, miss. And would very much like to see you in his castle. I've been sent to collect you.” With that, he walked away, and Rose walked up to your sleeping form. “It did work! Our wish came true! Come on little Sparrow, wake up.” So you opened your eyes and stood up still a little tired. “What's happening, Sis?” you asked her with a yawn and rubbed your eyes.

Rose smiled brightly at you. “Everything is fine. We're going to Lord Lucien’s castle! Now come we have to go little Sparrow!” she said as she ran in the direction of where the guard went to wait for us. When I ran after her I saw her standing with a few guards waiting for me.

“Let's go to the castle!.” Rose said happily, and so we were guided to Castle Fairfax. “What do you think does Lord Lucien wants from us?” I asked her confused. “I don't know, but we will find out shortly, Little Sparrow.” she said looking to at the big doors of the Castle.

The door was open and an old-looking Butler stood there waiting. “Evening. Jeeves. Here are the children Lord Lucien asked for.” he said proudly. The Butler smiled at us. “Excellent!” was all that he said to the guard, then turned back to us. “Hello, young masters.” This confused you but you ignored it. “Hello, sir.” both you and Rose answered politely.

His smile tightened and turned around. “If you'd follow me please.” he said and started to lead us into the castle. We look up at this castle every day and think how nice it is. We both do. But inside it's even more beautiful than I imagined.” Rose told him dreamily. Jeeves chuckled. “It's quite wonderful, isn't it?” it was more of a statement than a question.

Then we saw a man walking past us. “Ah, hello. Master Garth.” Jeeves greeted still walking while the other male said nothing. “Huh, Man of few words.” He led us further into the castle. “Where is the grand dining hall?” Rose suddenly asked curiously. “Oh, in the north wing. Lord Lucien hadn't been there since… Since the tragic deaths of Lady Fairfax and little Amelia.” he told us as we claimed some stairs and further down the hall. “Oh, I heard. That was so awful.” Rose’s tone was sad. Jeeves nodded. “Yes, he misses them terribly.” Rose raised a brow. “So where does he eat?” Jeeves looked at her. “Actually, he takes most of his meals in his study. He's in there working all hours, doing research...” You frowned. “What does he research?” you asked him curiously. “History, mostly. Lord Lucien is quite keen on antiquities of all sorts, but he is chiefly interested in things relating to the Old Kingdom.” Rose nodded understanding. “There was a Trader in Old Town who said his stuff was from the Old Kingdom.” Jeeves nodded. “Yes… yes, I believe Lord Lucien… heard about that.” he told us hesitantly. We were standing in front of some big doors now. “We bought a piece of it and we made a wish and now we're here!” She smiled brightly.

Jeeves smiled again. “That's wonderful. Now, when you meet Lord Lucien., you must show respect at all times. Address him as “my lord.” Speak only when spoken to.” he told us, You and Rose nodded. “Yes sir.” she awnsered shortly. Jeeves stood in front of us “And do not mention Lady Fairfax or Amilia.” he said a little more sternly. Jeeves opened the door to the study. “Here we are. Lord Lucien? The children are here.” Jeeves informed as me and Rose walked in and the door closed right behind us. ‘I don't like this’ is all I thought as I tried to push a weird feeling away.

Lord Lucien turned towards us. “Children. It's come to my attention that you have some sort of magic box. May I see it?” he asked looking at us curiously. “It vanished m’lord. We were winding it up, and we made a wish, and then it started to glow and it disappeared.” she said sadly. “After you used it?” is all he asked. Rose nodded. “Yes, m’lord. The man who sold it to us said it was magic.” Lord Lucien looked a little interested.

“The box is of no interest to me, what's remarkable is that you were able to use it. What was your wish?” he then asked. Rose gasps a little scared. “Well, speak up… what did you wish for?” he asked nicely. Then she looked up at him confidently. “To live in a castle… like this one.” Lucien smiled. “Perhaps that could be arranged. I working to rebuild… well, I'm working on something wonderful, for which I need individuals with particular talents. Let us find out if you have them. Would you kindly stand in the circle, please?” Rose looked at him nervously “Erm…” Lucien Looked at her reassuringly. “I promise, it won't hurt you.” This made my weird feeling grow but Rose still obliged and stepped inside the circle, while you still stood at your spot behind Lord Lucien. Behind the circle were also very big colored windows.

Suddenly the circle started to glow in a bright blue. “What's that?” asked scared. “Nothing to worry about.” Lucien answered. You looked a little scared at the circle. Lord Lucien looked at me with reassuring eyes. “Go on. Stand in the circle.” Then Rose looked at you. “It's all right, little Sparrow. Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt.” Her tone was soft. So you made a quick nod and stepped into the circle.

When you stepped inside there was some sort of a blue glowing wall. You were trapped. Lord Lucien stood in front of you, his face was full of shock and relief. “It's true. Your blood… you are Heroes.” This of course shocked you and Rose. “Heroes? You mean like in the old stories?” she asked amazed. Lord Lucien then tried to touch the barrier and it sent some shocks to him. “Ah!” he screamed out pulling his hand away and holding it. When this happens the circle suddenly starts to glow bright red. “What are you?” he asked angrily as he walked to a table with many papers and a book on it.

He started panting. “Wait. There was, there was something here…” mumbling to himself. “M’lord, what happened? What's that light?” Rose asked seemingly scared. “Quiet! You're heroes… but you're not any of the three…” he would us while looking through the papers. “What's happening?” asked terrified as Lord Lucien suddenly pulled a gun out. You froze as he suddenly pointed it towards Rose. “This isn't what I wanted… but nothing must stand in my way.” he said darkly. Rose looked even more terrified now. “No, wait. Don't! Nooo!” she screamed in agony, but it was too late he pulled the trigger and she fell to the floor. Tears were now streaming out of your face as you realized what happened, You looked at your now dead sister but you still couldn't move, you were to terrified.

Lucien then pointed the gun towards you. “I can't allow you to live either. I'm sorry.” is all that he said. You pulled your arms in in front of you as you backed away towards the window. And then he shot you which made you crash out of the window onto many roofs before crashing into the street.

When you laid there on the street you barely moved Your fingers. You then heard footsteps and a voice. “Death is not your destiny today, little Sparrow… Y/N” You knew that voice… it was the blind woman from the market. Then you felt how you were picked up into her arms, then you blacked out cold.

Suddenly you woke up to a familiar face it was the woman she had a dog with her that licked your face. It was the dog that you and Rose rescued once. Then time went by fast you reached out for the comfort of the dog’s warm fur, ready to take your first steps in a new life.

Ten winters blanketed in Albion, ten summers filled the air with the sounds of insects and laughter. With time your pain turned to strength. Your grief became will. A will to change the world. And to avenge the death that haunted your every dream.

Now you are 19 year old. You got your revenge for your sister with the help of the other three heroes.

Hammer is one of the other three heroes. You and her were taking a walk with Theresa. “Today is very beautiful, it's not too warm and not too cold! So it's the perfect weather to take a little walk.” Hammer breathed out with a satisfied smile. “Mhm” You nodded in agreement.

“How about we go into town and eat something? My treat!” Hammer asked. “Seems like an nice idea.” Theresa agreed. “Yeah sounds good to me!” you cheered happily. “All right, let's go!” Hammer said while laughing at you, so does Theresa.

So when you were halfway there about to reach the town something felt off as you three talked to each other. Suddenly you noticed your surroundings started to glow. “What's happening?” Hammer asks confused with a little hint of worry. “I don't know!” you answered back. “I feel magic behind it, and it's not yours. It's not good either…” Theresa said as you all stopped. Then the wind started to get stronger, the glowing got brighter, and started to circle around you very fast. You put your arm over your eyes to see something but the sight was getting less by every second that passed.

You, Hammer, and Theresa started to panic. “Help me! Please!” you begged inside the glowing mist. Hammer with half tears in her eyes looked at you then at Theresa panicked. “You have to do something. What's happening to him!?” Hammer screamed. “I can't do anything. This is way against the skills I have.” She said trying to sound calm. “What-” Hammer was about to say something as the mist disappeared, and you with it. Hammer stood there wide eyed. “What happened? Where is he? Theresa where is he!?” She screamed as she fell to her knees. Theresa walked to her side putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. “He will be alright. He will find his way back home.” Hammer was in tears as she looked at her. “You think so?” she sniffled. Theresa nodded. “Let's go home for now.” Her voice was even calmer now. Hammer nodded because she knew that Theresa was right.

Far away in a mansion in America was a Man. Roderick Burgess, he and other people stood in a dungeon under the house. They were a cult and Roderick Burgess was the leader of them. They stood around a summoning circle. They spoke in Latin, then the circle started glowing.

Right next to them was Morpheus held captive. He saw what they were doing. He laid there motionless watching them. As they summoned something, or someone. Then a little explosion was seen above the summoning circle and a bright glowing was there but when it vanished, there was a boy lying on the floor unconscious, on his belt was a well made sword and on his back was a crossbow.

“Take his weapons! And his clothes!” ordered Burgess. One of the cultists stepped towards you and bowed down to grab your sword, and another one grabbed your crossbow, then two others came and started to undress you, which led to you opening your eyes. “Oh, you're awake. Let's talk about business then.” You only glared at Burgess but stayed silent, you were now fully naked. “My Name is Roderick Burgess and I want you to be my personal guard, and hear on every command I give you. If you accept, you will get your stuff back. But if you don't, we will put you in a cage and you will rot in there until you die or eventually give in and accept.” again you stayed silent and didn't respond. Burgess let's out a disappointed sigh, then he nodded at the others and walked away.

While you were put into the glass ball you saw a another male that was also naked, in the cage next to yours. He was tall, and skinny, had black hair and bright blue eyes that stared right into yours as you now laid there.

Out of nowhere, Burgess stepped right in front of your view. You looked at him but didn't dare to move a muscle. “I have that you will rethink about my offer. Even if you don't want to, in the end, you will starve and start to beg for it. I hope you're smarter than this.” then he left again.

When he and everyone left it was only you and the other caged male. You both starred at each other again, only that you didn't really look at him because you thought about Theresa and Hammer, and the fact that you miss them and only wanted to get out of here and back home. Your eyes started burning so closed your eyes and silently let the tears slip.

Morpheus watched you as the tears slipped out of your eyes, but after a short while they stopped, and then he noticed that you probably fell asleep, which was probably better that way, is all what Morpheus thought.

The next day you opened your eyes and sat up slowly. Right now you tried to stay calm so you closed your eyes again. And while sitting there you felt the other males eyes on you but you ignored it.

Then Burgess came in and walked in front of Morpheus's cage. Two other people sat in the back playing a game. Burgess held himself on the cage. “The woman who lives with me has gone and robbed me of my fortune. She’s also robbed you. She's taken your helm, your sand, and your ruby.” this made you open your eyes and look at them. “Now I can unlock this, you can go after her…” Morpheus looked up at Burgess with a glare. “If you give me what I've been asking for. Wealth, youth, immortality. Oh, your a god. These things are nothing to you. Don't you want your weapons and freedom? Just like you Hero?” Burgess said lowly looking between the two of you.

So when you and the male in front of him didn't answer he got impatient and angry. “Speak to me! Speak to me! Speak to me!” he screamed and banged his stick against the glass, which caused the male to flinch shortly. A boy came walking from behind. “Come on! Speak to me!” he screamed again. “It's all right, Father.” the boy put his hand on his shoulder tho stop Burgess of what he was doing. ‘That asshole has a kid?’ is all you thought.

Burgess pushed him away. “Get away from me! If you were any kind of son to me…” he told him as he held the stick in the air and lashed out to the boy, but he dodged it, but hit him with the second one. The boy grabbed the stick so they both held it and faced each other. “If Randell was still alive today-” Burgess was cut off by the boy. “If Randell were alive, he would hate you as much as I do.” he said with hatred, and pushed Burgess back as he tried to attack the boy again, which led him to lose his balance hand his head hit the cage.

Burgess let the stick fall hand put his hand on the back of his head and saw blood when he looked at it, then he fell to the ground, with a big wound on the back of his head.

The to other man and the boy rushed to him. “Sir?” one of them said in panic. But when the boy put his hand on Burgess’s head as he saw a pool of blood leaping out of the wound. You and Morpheus only watched the scene. “You won't get out of there. Never.” Burgess looked at You and Morpheus one more time, then his eyes closed. “Sir can you hear me? Sir?” one of the male askedand tried to shake him but Brugess didn't answer. He was Dead.

The boy looked shocked and looked at his father as he sat there on the ground. “He isn't moving. Is he…” one of the males said. “He's dead.” the other one answered as the boy stood up, Looking at his bloodied hand and back to his dead father.

The Boy stumbled away a few feet but stopped between our cages. He stopped at the cage of the other male and turned to look at him. Morpheus stared back at him and slowly stood up, Your checks got red as you saw that but you wanted to see the interaction.

Morpheus reached his hand out. ‘He’s probably asking him to open the cage.’ is what you thought. The boy turned his head a bit as he reached out too. “Don't do it, sir. He’ll kill us.” one of the males said. “What would your father say?” the male spoke again, Before the boy's hand touched the glass he stopped and put his hand back down, and looked at the ground.

The male in the cage looked disappointed, as the boy looked back up. “I need to think.” he said and looked at the other male then to you, then he left. Morpheus also had put his hand back down watching him leave.

You were angry, but still, you stood up slowly wich made Morpheus look at you. You were a bit ashamed because you had no clothes on but you pushed that aside as you both looked at each other. You held sadness in your eyes as you slowly reached out and put one hand flat on the glass. Morpheus did the same while staring into your eyes. When you looked at him you immediately felt safe.

Then nine months later the door to the Dungeons door was heard which made the guards stand up and open the gate. Alex and also another boy came in. “How are they today, Rogers?” Alex asked. Rogers sighed. “Moved his hand this morning. Right hand. And the other one is also just sitting there but didn't move.” Alex nodded, as the other boy walked in. He had a look of shock on his face and gasped. “Oh, my God.” he looked at Alex and back to you and Morpheus. “Alex?” he asked.

Alex then walked in looking at the both of you. “Hello. This is my friend, Paul.” he told you as they walked further in. “Paul, these are our unwilling guests.” he said looking at his friend shortly.

Alex was getting a little nervous. “Look, we've been talking, Paul and I, and if I let you out, will you promise not to harm us?” he asked calmly while looking at us. You both didn't move not answered his question. “If you could just speak to us.” Paul said a little nervous himself, but again silence.

Alex looked at Paul. “You see, I told you.” he was a little disappointed. “I'm telling you, you have to keep trying. Show them that they can trust you. Show them that you mean it.” Paul softly awnsered back.

Alex nodded at us. “I do mean it. Just promise that you won't hurt me or Paul, and I will let you out.” Alex tried to reason. But again we didn't answer. We just looked at them this time.

Almost eighty years later you had developed feelings for the Male in the cage next to you which was weird because you didn't even know his name, but little did you know that Morpheus also grew feelings for you.

Also the guards started to change every now and then until they looked very modern. And you, you were still looking young and didn't age which you thought was weird and not normal, but Alex was old now just as Paul was, they both married year's ago. They were in the dungeon again. Alex stood in front of Morpheus's cage and had his hand on the glass. “I could have asked you for wealth or Power, and protection, like my father did. But all I wanted was to be free of you two.” He said softly.

You and Morpheus looked up at him. “Surely you want that too.” Paul walked into view pushing a wheelchair in front of him. “Alex, darling, please.” he said softly mentioning to the wheelchair. Alex put his hand away from the glass and sat down in the wheelchair, Paul's hand on his shoulder. He looked at us one more time. “Take me upstairs, Paul. I won't be coming down here again.” is all that he said as Paul started to push the wheelchair, and now there was a gap in the protective circle. Paul stopped a few feet away and looked back seeing it, then he looked at us and made a small nod. He then around and and left with Alex.

Morpheus looked at the gap and wondered why Paul would do that, but in the end it doesn't matter, he can free himself and you now and that's all that matters to him right now.

So when they got out, and the door to the dungeon closed, it was only two guards left inside. “Old Dracula here’s not moving an inch. Just like the other weirdo.” the Female guard said quietly, looking up from her book she was reading. “Why do you call it Dracula and weirdo?” The male guard said tiredly while looking up from his newspaper. “Because I think they are. What do you think they are?” she asked quickly.

The male sighed. “I try not. You know what I think about?” he asked her, again looking up from his newspaper. “Majorca. Four days… and I'll be on a beach. Stinking of suntan lotion.” he said and smiled to himself at the thought.

Morpheus leaned forward holding himself on the glass while glaring at the guard. And you were just watching. “Lucky bugger. I was on Corfu on holiday once.” the female guard told as the other one yawned and fell asleep. Suddenly something weird starts to happen as Morpheus stares at the guard. The guard stood up from his chair and shot both of our cages and they started to break. You sat there wide eyed. “Fred!” the female guard screamed.

She ran towards him to stop him. “Fred, stop it! You'll… Fred!” she screamed but it was too late Both of your cages exploded into many pieces and our surroundings were glowing. You and Morpheus got out of your cages. “Don’t move! Stay where you are!” the guy called Fred screamed. “What… what's he got in his hands?” the female screamed. You looked at Morpheus and saw that he had something in his balled fist but you couldn't see it.

Morpheus slowly put his hand up where he held something in it right in front of his face. The guards already had their weapons aimed at us. “Oi! Open your hands, now!” she screamed at him.

And so he opened his Hand and you saw him blowing some sort of sand towards them, which made them instantly fall asleep. You were watching the scene curious. But then all of your strength suddenly left your legs and you fell to your knees right next to Morpheus with a thud. He instantly looked at you and kneeled down to your hight.

He slowly put his hand on your cheek and his eyes looked at you softly. “I'll get us out of here.” he said and his tone was smooth but very deep. You melted into his hand and nodded at him. Then he slowly picked you up bridal style. Your arms around his waist as you were sucked into the glowing. You… you were getting your revenge now.

Then in a room a black cat came in and sat on a chair in the middle of the room. There also came Alex into the room he looked young again and he curiously looked at the cat with his head tilted to the side. Suddenly the cat disappeared and Morpheus sat on the chair and you stood beside him both fully clothed as you looked at Alex darkly. “Hello” Morpheus said.

Alex was scared you could see it in his eyes. “It's... It's you two. You're… you're free.” he said quietly. “We are.” Morpheus simply awnsered as he stood up and the wind started to blow through the open window. “And have you any idea what it was like? Confined in a cage for over a century?” he asked as he slowly walked towards Alex. “Do you understand the damage you've done to your world?” he asked again. Alex was more then just scared now, he was terrified. “I'm sorry. I… I didn't know. Please.” he said backing away a bit.

Morpheus looked at him unbothered just like you. “Your punishment, then, shall be a gift.” when he said that Alex turned to a little boy. “I give you this, the gift… of eternal… sleep.” when he finished the sentence he blow some sand in Alex’s face and he fell asleep.

Morpheus looked looked back at you holding his hand out. “Let's get out of here.” That's all you needed to hear and took his hand as he teleported you both.

A voice was heard. ”Sir. Sir.” It was the panicked voice of Lucienne. “Oh, my goodness.” she kneeled down to turn him onto his back. “Sir. It's me!” she panted as she saw his eyes opening. “It's Lucienne.” she said as Morpheus looked at her and started to smile and took her hand. “Lucienne.” he whispered weakly. “Your home, my Lord.” and that's when Morpheus started to frown. When he looked beside him he noticed you weren't there. “My Lord? What's wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Morpheus started to stand up. “A boy, he was held captive. Just like me. I brought him with me.” He said as he started to look around. Not even a minute later he saw you laying a few feet away from him, and he immediately sprinted towards you with Lucienne. “A Human? Why was he held captive?” she asked confused. Morpheus shook his head as he turned you around and saw you breathing normally. “He is not fully human, it seems. Because he didn't age for almost a century. The man who held us captive once called him Hero.” Lucienne looked at him baffled. “Do you think he is one of the three heroes? My Lord?” she asked. “I don't know.” is all he awnsered as he gently put a hand on your cheek which made you open your eyes.

When you saw him you started to smile. “Your safe now.” Morpheus said softly as he helped you off of the ground. You looked around and saw the woman with pointy ears and smiled at her. “Hello, jung Man.” she smiled back at you. You were a little scared to speak because you didn't talk since you were held captive, but you decided to still try it. “H-Hello.” you said but your voice didn't sound raspy or broken as you thought it would be. Morpheus and Lucienne smiled at you. “Thank you, for taking me with you…” you started but you trailed off because you didn't know his name.

Morpheus smiled softly at you. “My name is Morpheus. And this is Lucienne.” he told you. “Thank you, Morpheus. And my name is Y/N.” you smiled at both of them.

You started walking over to very huge gates on a massive wall. On those big gates were some pictures in it it looked well made. It made you look at them amazed with your mouth wide open. Morpheus looked at you and chuckled. “You like them?” he asked which made you blink before realizing, and looked at him. “Yeah! I-I mean they look astonishing!” you smiled at him nervously.

Morpheus then raised his hand and touched the gates, they began shaking and started to open up. “Forgive me, sir, but… the realm, the palace… they are not as you left them.” Lucienne said as Morpheus looked at her. Morpheus looked through the gate as it opened. His look… he was shocked with what happened to his Realm… his home.

You, looked shocked too, even if you didn't know how it looked like before. You saw the dead trees and bushes, the land looked like as if it was completely dead. Then you saw that a piece of the roof from the half destroyed castle fell down. “What happened here? Who did this?” He asked not daring to look away from his destroyed home.

Lucienne let out a sigh. “My Lord, you are The Dreaming, The Dreaming is you. With you gone as long as you were, the realm began to… decay. And crumble.” she looked at him sadly as he looked back at her. “And the residents? The Palace staff?” Morpheus asked with a little hope. “I'm afraid most have… gone.” she looked at the ground. “Gone?” he asked rising his eyebrows. “Some went looking for you.” she looked back at him. “And the others?” He asked walking in front of her. Lucienne looked back down to her side, then back up. “They thought, perhaps, you'd grown weary of your duties and…” Morpheus stopped her. “What? Abandoned them? Had they so little faith in me?” he asked in disbelief.

Lucienne didn't know what to say. You on the other concentrated on the view that was in front of you, as the conversation went deff on your ears. You slowly started to move away from them and towards the destroyed landscape. You felt welcomed even if the view in front of you didn't look welcoming in the first place. You closed your eyes whilst you took in the fresh air.

Lucienne looked towards you, which made Morpheus look behind him and he sees that you are walking away from them. When suddenly they saw some tears rolling down your face, when you turned your head sideways.

Lucienne looks worried. Then you felt a hand on your shoulder which made you open your eyes and look at the person who's hand was on your shoulder. It was Morpheus. You look at him puzzled. “Y/N?” Morpheus asked. “Yes? Is something wrong?” you tilted your head. “You seemed lost in thoughts. What's wrong?” he asked softly. “Didn’t notice that! I'm happy to be free again and out of this tiny cell in that weird Dungeon… Aaaand I'm probably a little tired after some sleepless nights.” You laughed awkwardly while scratching your head.

Morpheus nodded. “How about a little sleep then?” He asked while rising a brow. “Hmmm, no. Not before I helped you rebuild your realm!” you said grinning and put your hands on your hips. “But if you want to help him, you will need your sleep.” Lucienne reasoned. You humed. “You're probably right. Okay, I'll sleep once we’re there.” you smiled. Morpheus nodded again. “Let's go shall we?” you nodded at his question and walked beside him.

When you arrived at the castle, Morpheus turned towards you. “Come with me, I show you where you can sleep,” he started as you part ways with Lucienne. “Can I ask you something, Morpheus?” you look at him. “Of course. What do you want to know?” you thought for a short second. “I wanted to know who you are besides Morpheus, you know?” you asked nervously. Morpheus smiled and made a small chuckle. “I am an Endless, Dream of the Endless to be exact. People also call me the Sandman. Also we're here.” he said opening a door to a bedroom that was still intact. When you went inside you saw that the room was painted in black, but it was held simple.

You pulled your shoes, coat, and shirt off. When you sat down on the bed, Morpheus follows you and stands in front of you. “Who's room is this?” you asked looking around. “It's mine.” he simply answered. Your head shot into his direction while standing up. “I didn't know. I can sleep on the floor too.” you tried to say as he already put a hand on your shoulder and sat you back down. “It's alright. I told you to sleep, didn't I?” you looked baffled as you nodded at him. “Now, lay down.” you did as you were told and pulled the covers over you.

Morpheus kneels down to your height, and holds a closed hand in front of his face, which makes you realize what he was about to do so you stop him. “Wait!” you said which made him raise a brow. “Yes?” he asks while looking into your eyes. “We can share the bed if you want! I mean if it's okay with you…” you said shyly. This catches Morpheus off guard but he starts to smirk slightly. “If that's what you want. I will. But I will go and talk to Lucienne shortly, then I'll be back.” he says and you give him a closed-eyed smile. “Yeah, I'll wait.” Morpheus gives you a nod as he stands up and leaves the room grinning to himself.

About ten minutes later he returned. “I'm here now.” he says and you simply nod at him. So he pulls his shirt and pants off but leaves the boxers on. He walks over to the empty side of the bed and gets under the covers. You both stare at each other until you slowly fell asleep. Morpheus smiled at your peaceful sleeping face as he slowly touched your cheek with his hand. Then the next second, you had your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. “Good night, Y/N.” Morpheus had a small smile on his face as he laid his arms around your body.

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