#This was such a lovely surprise. I cannot possibly thank you enough

[motoroil-recs]

AUUUUU THIS LOOKS DELIGHTFUL!!! THANK YOU ENDLESSLY, G-MAN, THIS IS SO KIND OF YOU! I love how this looks, you did an absolutely spectacular job!

Suprise gift for @motoroil-recs / @blackmesa-vr

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[sinning-23]

Baby Mama (OPLA HEADCANNONS)

In honor of mothers day, here some little headcannons I cooked up for our faves! Hope yall enjoy lol

Luffy

-This mf was like...actually capable of conceiving a child lmao.

-There was really no like initial shock, it was more like overwhelming joy? There was honestly no need to reveal it to the rest of the crew since the second you told him he shouted it loud ad fucing possible.

-"Luffy, uhhh I think im pregnant." You huff, hand over your forehead as you try to figure out the next course of action.

"YOURE PREGNANT?! THATS GREAT!"

"Y/N IS WHAT?" Nami gasps, eyes flitting form you to Luffy, then to your belly.

"YOU’RE PREGNANT?! HOW?" Usopp questions, only to have Sanji interrupt,

"Well Usopp, when two people love eachother- or well... lets talk about he birds and the bee-"

"I KNOW HOW THAT WORKS DICKHEAD-"

-Luffy is a.....he's a great dad, just a little uhhhh...wild?

-You have to explain tho him that this baby cannot fucking eat solid food.

-He's learning and that’s all that matters. He knows when to get serious about his kid and when its okay to be a lil silly.

-Oh and be prepared for when your kid hits about 6-7 cause they're so much like their father its crazy-

Zoro

-He's thuroughly convinced its your fault because he knows for a fact he has impeccable pull out.

-"That’s not mine." He hums, pointing at the newborn with a raise brow.

The fucking liar this baby is his spitting image. Like your genes didn't evens stand a chance. The baby even fucking mean mugs like he does, that lil stoic face.

-"This isn’t yours?" You question, holding the baby up side by side with his obvious father.

"Nope"

-Once he’s like fully processed and accepted the fact that your pussy just so happened to weaken his pull out game, he will claim the child and make sure he's being helpful with both you and the infant.

-It was actually pretty fucking hilarious to see the baby try and latch to his nipple cause his tits are fucking massive. Heeee didn’t think it was that funny tho💀

-Just let the kid grow up a little bit and they’re all about their father, and even though he may not show it all the time, he adores his baby. And they will always be a baby in his eyes. And he things you’re a phenomenal mother even though it was sort of a surprise.

Nami

-You had come aboaded with a toddler. And sure enough they latched to Nami in a heartbeat.

-“AHT! No, you stay with me and let them work.” You reprimand, giving a quick apology to the tangarine haired girl.

“Oh no they’re okay. Hey, you wanna see something cool?” He hum, taking the 2 year old by the hand before you can protest.

-Auntie Nami accidentally turned to ‘mamami’ (Mama Nami) andddd it just stuck.

-one night the three of you had fall asleep in Nami’squarter and she had woke up and just, admires you both. She couldn’t help the way her chest squeezed when she thought about raising this child with you or how much she loved being a part of your lives.

Your eyes flutter open and you give her a knowing look, her face already tinted pink.

“Nami,” you begin, your free hand pushing hair behind her ear as she hold your wrist, placing a kiss there.

“Thank you, love you.” You hum, letting yourself fall back asleep.

-yeah she’s stuck with you two for life

-unironically calls you her baby mama

Usopp

-is literally the best fuckinf dad. Literally ever.

-he wants to make sure he’s an active part of your child’s life, being sure to keep you both in good health and high spirits.

-when you broke the news he was terrified. How good of a father could he be? He just don’t want to let you down.

-“W-What if our kid hates me?” He voices one night, hands holding your tummy.

“I doubt that’ll happen. You’ll be okay Uso.”

-Guess having impeccable aim runs in the family because by time your child is year they’re already throwing projectiles with phenomenal accuracy.

-you can’t tell me he doesn’t make most of your babies toys.

-he loves seeing you just have little moments with your baby, he definetly cried when they took their first steps.

-keeps a picture of the three of you tucked away

-hints at wanting another one from time to time

Sanji

-fainted when you told him.

-honestly he’s a little shocked. He didn’t really put ‘father’ on his goal list but here yall are lol

-he’s very supported and knows that morning sickness is a bitchhhh

-“how’re my girls…or boy” he greets, pressing a kiss to your tummy then to your lips.

-much to his surprise, he was right on both parts because you’re having twins! Yayyyyy

-you cuss him out when your in labor.

-“SANJI YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME! WHY DID I FALL FOR YOUR DELICIOUS FOOD YOU FUCK!”

-he’s not allowed in the delivery room lmao he fainted again when the nurse asked if he’d like to see what was goin on

-after 6 horrendous hours, your baby boy and girl are finally born and he’s too delighted.

-“good job baby.” He praises, peppering your tired face with kisses.

-when the kids are older he’s always falling victim to their puppy eyes and begging when they ask for dessert before dinner

-“please dad! We won’t tell mom! Pleaseeee!”

-he loves being with you and loves that he’s been blasted with a wonderful wife and two beautiful children

Shanks

-oh the minute he found out he was stunned! He was sure he already had an illegitimate baby somewhere but for one of the baby mamas to actually let him know was, a bit of a surprised?

-and that’s it. He doesn’t really go out of his way to go visit and see if it’s true. He goes on about his business truely.

-one day, he comes across a lady at a bar, her bright red hair thrown up and she waits tables, her gaze almost immediately locking on his as she frowns

-….what the fuck she looks just like him.

-she goes to a couple other of the waiters/waitresses and the minute they catch his gaze they’re nodding profusely at her.

-it took, shit you not. 3 hours for them to get a table and that was only because her boss came in and MADE her seat the crew.

-“what do you want.” She huffs, her notepad clenched so tight it crumples the paper.

Shanks only further studies the girl, her rage ever present as she slams the notepad down.

“I SAID, What. Do. You. Want. Quickly, or I’m leaving you here to wait 3 more hours. Spit it the fuck out you old bastard.” She spits, leaving him somewhat shocked.

-“How about the-“

-“we’re all out. Deadbeat.” She finishes, dropping her apron and notepad, then walking out.

Safe to say that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

-when he finds where you guys live and YOU answer the door thank god, he firstly apologizes (which you don’t accept right away) and explains how he already met your daughter.

Speak of the devil she had just rounded the corner asking who it was.

“Don’t let this fucker the house mom, please.” She begs, gaze flittering form you to her sperm donor.

-yeahhhhhh this is why he hardly ever makes the effort to see his unsuspecting kids. Doesn’t quite pan out how he thinks.

Mihawk

- you’re not the only one at all. He’s got plenty fucking kids running around and you’re fully aware of that, having run into more than one child that looks just mf like him.

-he won’t deny any of them, but he doesn’t feel like he owes them anything either? It’s weird and you usually feel bad that he picked you and your child when he could very well have done that for the rest of them.

-he often assures you that we’re were one night stand situations he hardly remembers after being so damn drunk.

-he’s a good dad though and a great husband. He makes sure you’re taken care of even is he’s gone a lot of the time. When you told him you were having a baby he didn’t leave from your side.

-when the baby is born he’s a bit suprised they don’t look like him but as soon as they open their eyes he’s so mf smug. Those eyes are a dead giveaways that’s his baby.

-don’t let that baby ask for something be used Mihawk will without a doubt give it to them no matter what.

-“Honey I-“

-there standing in front of the fridge, in laminated with its light are your husband and child. Their eyes wide like an owls, staring directly into your soul.

-“We wanted ice cream.”

Buggy

-he loves his babies. Hands down loves his fucking babies. Plural because of course you were blessed/cursed with triplets.

-two boys, one sweet girl, and not one of them look like their daddy, besides that faint tint of blue in their hair.

-and he’s maddddd, well. not at you but at his genes.

-“honey wait, they might just grow into it?” You encourage, trying not to laugh as he tried to figure out why his kids don’t look like him.

-thank god you were right because by time they were all 4/5 that blue had brightened and the little red glow of their noses were ever present.

-he’s so attentive with you, taking care of the three of them when you need rest or just in general cause how gorgeous wife needs rest after making three gorgeous babies

-freaks his babies out when he takes his head off

-then they won’t leave him the fuck alone about it and will often take pieces of him while he chases them around for them back.

-his babies get their own spot on the show and it fucking adorable watching toddlers dance to circus music with face paint they insisted they do themselves

-best dad buggy 100%

[p0orbaby]

Wrinkled Silk

summary: Alexia’s plans to propose causes a rift between you

warnings: a little angst with a happy ending, you’re welcome

a/n: thank you for the request !

word count: 2.6k

-

“Six years, Alexia! Six years I’ve given my life to you and you can’t even answer one fucking question!”

“Lo siento,” she mutters, voice barely a thread.

You laugh, disbelieving, the sound bouncing off the cold, indifferent walls. “You’re sorry? That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

Alexia stands before you, her head down, eyes glued to the floor. She doesn’t even have the decency to look you in the eye, which somehow makes it all worse.

“You’re pathetic,” you spit, each syllable a poisoned arrow aimed straight at her heart.

The words hang in the air, heavy and acrid, like cigarette smoke after a long night out. Alexia flinches, but she doesn’t respond. You stare at her, searching for some sign of the woman you fell in love with, but all you see is a stranger standing small in front of you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, your voice breaking. “I can’t be in a relationship where I’m constantly kept in the dark. It’s not fair on me”

Alexia’s head snaps up, eyes wide and desperate. “Por favor, it is not what you think”

“Then what is it, Ale? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re hiding something. Are you seeing someone else? Heaven forbid you have a second family you need to tell me about”

“No! None of that. Lo juro,” she insists, her voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.

“Then what?” Your voice is loud, angry, but underneath it all is the dull, relentless ache of a breaking heart. “What could possibly be so important that you’re willing to push me away?”

You had been feeling it for weeks, that sinking sensation in your chest, the gnawing worry that something was wrong. It wasn’t like Alexia to be so distant, so evasive. She was always your rock, your constant. But lately, she’d been slipping away, caught up in something she wouldn’t talk about. It gnawed at you, gnawed at the fabric of your relationship until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Alexia looks down again, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I cannot tell you. Es- Es una sorpresa”

“A surprise?” You can’t help the incredulous cackle that escaped your lips. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You’re met with silence. Weakness, perhaps. Or shame. Whatever it is, you can’t find it in you to care anymore.

You shake your head, sad it has come to this, frustrated that you let it. “Fine. If you can’t trust me enough to let me in, then I’m done. We’re done”

Trust. It sounded so simple, but it was the hardest thing in the world when the person you loved most was keeping secrets.

Alexia’s eyes widen with panic. “No, please. Don’t do this”

“It’s already done.” You grab your coat and bag, the weight of your decision pressing heavily down on you. You move to the door, hesitating for a moment, hoping she’ll say something, but when she doesn’t, you leave.

-

“Ale is asking for you again”

“Tell her to fuck off, Maria”

This was not where you saw yourself at this point in your life. Single and practically homeless. Bunking in your friend’s spare room while your world collapses around you like papier-mâché in the wind.

“I cannot do that, she is our captain,” Mapi says as she hovers at the door, half in, half out, like she can’t decide if coming closer is a good idea or if she should just make a run for it.

“Fine,” you snap, thrusting out your hand. “Give me the phone”

Your tone is sharp enough to cut glass, and Mapi, wisely, hands you her phone like it’s a grenade with the pin pulled out, praying it comes back in one piece.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Fuck off, Alexia,” you say, short and succinct before hanging up and tossing the phone back to Mapi in one smooth move. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Los ingleses estáis locos,” she mutters, catching the phone like a seasoned number one.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your life partner cheats on you,” you retort, pulling the covers up under your chin, cocooning yourself in a fortress of misery.

Mapi’s eyes bug out like you’ve just told her the Earth is flat. “¡No! ¡Eso no puede ser verdad, Alexia nunca haría eso!”

You scoff, the sound muffled by your blanket fort. “She’s keeping secrets, Mapi. She’s been getting home late, taking secret calls, she’s even changed the password on her phone! There’s no other explanation”

Mapi stands there, mouth agape like a fish out of water, her brain struggling to catch up. It would almost be funny if it weren’t your life falling apart.

“I think you are being, what is the word in English, teatral?” she finally says, her voice uncertain.

You groan into the air, rolling away from her to face the wall, the universal sign of ‘I’m done with this conversation’

“Dramática Maria. The word you’re looking for is dramática, and I am very offended”

“You should talk to her, let her explain,” she suggests quietly, her voice laced with caution. Clearly, you’ve scared her, which is a minor victory in itself.

You roll back over, glaring at her. “And have her embarrass me with stories of her gallivanting off with other women? Absolutely not”

“I need your translation”

“Deambulando por, María! Deambulando por!”

-

Mapi could hear Alexia’s footsteps echoing down the corridor before she even saw her. They were heavy, plodding. The sound of a defeated captain. She leans against the changing room doorframe, waiting for Alexia to reach her, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“Do you know how much I hate you right now?” Mapi said as Alexia finally approaches.

Alexia’s eyes slide to her friend, taken aback. “What?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like living with your insufferable ex?” Mapi continues, her voice dripping with exaggerated disdain. “It’s like sharing a flat with a black hole. The flowers wilt every time she walks past. The cat hides under the bed like it can sense a tsunami or something. Hell, I think the paint’s started peeling off the walls”

Alexia sighs, her shoulders sagging even further, if that is even possible. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Mapi snaps, her voice taking on the tone of an exasperated school teacher. “You need to fix this, Alexia. Now! You owe it to everyone, especially me and Ingrid. She’s threatening to go back to Norway, and I can’t blame her. Do you know how hard it is to find a girlfriend who’ll put up with my shit?”

Alexia rubs at her temples, frustration and guilt mixing into a potent brew of self-loathing. “I don’t know what to do. You know she won’t talk to me”

Mapi straightens up, uncrossing her arms. “Well, then you need to make her listen. And I’ve got just the plan to make sure she does”

Alexia looks at her, hope flickering in her eyes for the first time in days. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you need to stop sulking and start acting like the woman she knows you really are,” Mapi says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “We’re going to give her the proposal of a lifetime, and you’re going to need my help. And Ingrid’s”

Alexia raises an eyebrow, the flame of hope hitting that much brighter. “You think that will work?”

Mapi grins, the kind of grin that usually means trouble. “Oh, I know it will work. We’re talking grand gestures, romance like you’ve only seen in movies. We’re going to make her feel like the most important person in the world, which, let’s face it, she is. To you, at least”

Alexia can’t help but smile, the first real smile in what felt like forever. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Mapi claps her hands together, rubbing them as if she was plotting a world takeover. “First, we need to make sure she can’t ignore you. Then, we need to show her just how much you love her. We’re going to need a lot of help, some strategic planning, and possibly a truckload of flowers”

Alexia’s smile turns into a laugh, a genuine laugh that seemed to lift the weight off her shoulders, if only for a moment. “I’m in. Whatever it takes, I’m in”

Mapi nods, satisfied. “Good. Because if you don’t fix this, I’m sending you back to live with your imaginary second family”

-

Ingrid has a knack for persuasion that borders on the supernatural. You find yourself in the passenger seat of her car, rolling your eyes as she drives you to an undisclosed location. She has insisted it is important, something you needed to see. You had resisted at first; rotting around Mapi’s flat has become a comforting routine, but Ingrid was relentless.

“Come on,” Ingrid had said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just trust me. You’ll thank me later”

Now, you were here, winding down a dirt road surrounded by fields that seem to stretch forever. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden glow over everything. It is beautiful, but you can’t shake the feeling of annoyance. What could possibly be so important?

“Ingrid, if this is some kind of prank, I swear to whichever god you believe in” you trail off, giving her a side-eye.

She just smiles, her usual cool demeanor unshaken. “Patience, Kjære. You’ll see”

The car comes to a stop, and Ingrid gets out, motioning for you to follow. You step out, the soft crunch of gravel under your feet. She leads you down a path lined with fairy lights, their soft glow leading the way as dusk begins to settle. Your heart starts to race, a strange flurry of anticipation and confusion swirling inside you.

“What is this?”

Ingrid just smiles and points ahead. “Just keep walking”

You do as you are told, following the path until you reach an open field. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you. The field was transformed into a magical wonderland, with twinkling lights hanging from trees, flowers arranged in intricate patterns, and a small clearing in the middle where Alexia stands, waiting.

She looks nervous, her eyes locking onto yours the moment you appear. Ingrid gives you a gentle nudge forward, and then she steps back, disappearing into the background to give you and Alexia some privacy.

You walk slowly towards Alexia, your heart pounding in your chest. She is dressed simply, a white linen shirt and some suit trousers, but the way the soft light hits her makes her look almost ethereal. You stop a few feet away, crossing your arms, your expression hardening.

“Hi,” she says softly, her voice trembling.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice flat.

Alexia takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I know you’re probably wondering what this is all about. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry for that. I’ve spent weeks planning this, trying to make it perfect because I want to show you how much you mean to me”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “You think some fairy lights and flowers are going to fix everything?”

Alexia winces at the harshness in your voice but doesn't back down. As stubborn as ever. “No, I don’t. I know it’s going to take a lot more than that. But I needed to start somewhere”

You take a step closer, the intensity of your emotions making your voice weak. “You shut me out, Alexia. For weeks, you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t worth your trust. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Her eyes fill with tears, her guilt and regret plain to see. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to make this a surprise, to make it perfect for you. I didn’t realise how much I was pushing you away in the process”

You look at her, seeing the genuine pain in her eyes, the remorse. “You should have talked to me”

Alexia nod, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I should have. I was scared, and I handled it all wrong. But I love you, more than anything. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you”

Before you can say anything, she drops to one knee, the cool grass pressing against her skin. From her pocket, she pulls out a small, velvet box. She opens it to reveal a ring, the delicate band catching the light.

“I’ve loved you for six years, and I want to love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

The world seems to stand still as you look down at her, your heart swelling with conflicting emotions. This was it, the moment you had dreamed of, but it wasn’t as simple as saying yes.

“You broke my heart,” you whisper, your voice choked with tears. “You made me doubt everything”

“I know,” Alexia says, her voice raw with honesty. “And I will spend every day making it up to you if you let me. Please, give me another chance”

Silence hangs heavy between you, the weight of your decision crushing your chest. You look at the ring, then at Alexia, and see the love and desperation in her eyes. She is the love of your life, despite everything.

“Yes,” you finally say, your voice breaking. “Yes, Alexia, I’ll marry you”

-

Your first wedding anniversary comes around quickly, and the scene was far from a candlelit dinner. Instead, it is the training ground, bustling with activity as always. The air is filled with the thud of footballs and the shouts of teammates. You and Alexia are in the midst of a playful sparring session, teasing each other as you work through drills.

Mapi and Ingrid stand on the sidelines, their expressions an unusual combination of pride and amusement as they watch you both. Mapi nudges Ingrid with her elbow. “Look at them. Sickening, isn’t it?”

Ingrid smirks. “Oh, absolutely. They’re so in love it’s almost painful to watch”

You and Alexia pause, taking a break from your drills. She reaches over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering. “You’re still too slow,” she teases, her eyes sparkling.

“Me? Slow?” You laugh, giving her a light shove. “I’m just giving you a chance to catch up”

“Ugh, can you two keep it together? Some of us are trying to focus here”

Alexia wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “What’s the matter, Mapi? Jealous?”

Ingrid joins the group, chuckling. “If you’re going to be all lovey-dovey, at least do it off the field. Some of us have reputations to maintain”

You roll your eyes, leaning into Alexia. “Like you two wouldn’t be exactly the same if you had someone like this”

Mapi puts on a mock serious face. “Hey, we sacrificed a lot for your happiness. Our peace, our sanity. The least you could do is tone it down a little”

Alexia smirks, her voice lowering between you. “Me tone it down? I’ll be telling her that later when she’s naked, screaming my-“

You feel a blush creeping up your neck as you slap a hand over Alexia’s mouth. “Ale!”

Mapi gags, and you’re uncertain of whether it’s real or not. You wouldn’t blame her, you’re quite shaken by how brazen your wife has become.

Ingrid crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Right, that's enough of that! Can you save some of your energy for the game?”

Alexia kisses the top of your head, her voice softening. “You heard them, cariño. Let’s save the best for after after we win”

You kiss her softly, the world around you fading away for a moment. “I can’t wait”

Alexia pulls you impossibly closer so she can whisper in your ear. “Here’s to many more years, mi amor”

[trashywritestrash]

Short and Sweet

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 853

Warnings: Best friend’s brother— is that a warning? This is just a short lil thing for Valentine’s Day

A/N: The poem and response in this came from Thomas Richardson’s “Gentleman’s Valentine Writer” which wasn’t actually published until 1828 but I needed ideas, okay? Also, I wrote this when Bridgerton was still the lead in the poll lol

Living beside the Bridgerton household had many advantages. Being close in age to Daphne gave you the perfect excuse to spend time with her. However, spending time with Daphne meant also spending time with the rest of her family, which allowed you to form a close bond with them all. One Bridgerton in particular being Benedict.

Benedict was a few years older than you, but within a perfectly reasonable range that made it acceptable for you to fancy him. How could you not? He was sweet and sensitive, but he had a playful side that brought joy any time you were fortunate enough to witness it. Although, you never dared to dream that Benedict might return your affections. You were the best friend of his younger sister, surely he would not think of you in that way.

Initially, you had been excited to be presented before the queen and sent out into society. But while Daphne had been deemed the season's incomparable, you had fallen into her shadow. You were happy to see your friend receive many visitors and gifts, but some days it would hurt to see a line of men outside her door while you waited in an empty sitting room.

Waking on Valentine's Day brought nothing but sorrow. It was only one month into the social season and you already felt that you were destined to become an old spinster. With no prospective husbands in sight, you would likely have to face a second season. You did not expect that you would receive any callers that day, yet you waited in your sitting room in a fine dress, as you did every other day. Your mother sat in a chair at the far end of the room, leisurely reading until something would happen.

Early into the day, your butler entered the room with a calling card in hand, "A Mister Bridgerton is here to call upon Miss Y/L/N."

"Send him in," You replied, feeling your chest constrict. It was possible that one of Daphne's brothers had come to pass along a message for her, but a gentleman visiting while you were accepting callers still brought you a shred of hope.

Moments later, you saw Benedict step through the doorway, holding something behind his back. He smiled, "I see I have gotten here before the rest."

You returned his smile, nervous, yet calmed by his presence. "I think you will find that the gentlemen are coming to your door today, not mine."

"Then they are fools and I am lucky to have you all to myself."

"What can I do for you, Benedict? I find it hard to believe you would be here as a suitor." You spoke the words in jest, but felt your throat tighten as you said them all the same.

Benedict's smile fell into confusion, "What is so hard to believe about that?"

Taken aback by the genuine confusion in his tone, you clarified, "I only mean to say that I would not have expected it."

"If that is the case, I hope that you find this to be a good surprise," For just a moment, you heard a bit of nerves in his voice as he tried to present a confident image. "Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. But I wanted to bring you these and to officially declare my affection."

Finally, Benedict moved the hand behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of morning glory and myrtle. You smiled wide at the sight, "Thank you, Benedict. They're lovely."

Shortly after, Benedict had to take his leave, although he promised to come back the following day. Once he had left, you reached for a book on the language of flowers. You found that morning glories are used to represent affection, meanwhile myrtle is used to represent love and marriage. Learning that brought a blush to your cheeks, finding the meaning to be a little bold, but not unpleasant.

It was then that you noticed a small folded piece of parchment beside the flowers. When you unfolded the paper, you could see the painted design done in watercolors. A man and a woman stood beneath a tree, which was situated between a lovely cottage and a church. The image was small, but you could tell that the couple was you and Benedict. On the other side of the parchment was a simple note.

I boast not eloquence, dear Miss, Nor do I write exceedingly fine; Therefore, I bluntly ask you this-- Pray, will you be my Valentine?

As you looked down at the note, you felt your heart swell. You held it close to your chest, feeling as if you could burst from happiness at any moment. Your mother then looked up from her book. "What is that, dear?"

"It is nothing!" You responded quickly. Luckily, your mother did not push the issue further.

That night, you folded the note once more and placed it in the drawer of the nightstand beside your bed. As you attempted to fall asleep, all you could think of was that you could not wait to see Benedict again.

----------

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[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

BG3 Companions (& Halsin) Realizing That Their GN! Tav Might Have PMDD

Characters: GN! Reader! Tav; Astarion; Gale; Wyll; Shadowheart; Karlach; Lae’zel; Halsin

Pairing(s): None, but it’s written as All Companions x Tav so if you have a romanced companion you prefer, you can imagine they have most of Tav’s favor. 

A/N: This is a highly indulgent imagine that absolutely NO ONE asked for (besides me lol) but I felt compelled to write it because I’ve been really struggling lately with some extreme PMS symptoms for the last few months or so. I don’t have a PMDD diagnosis yet or anything, but in looking up my symptoms I read about it and wanted to write this comfort piece for it. I kept Tav as gender-neutral as possible in this, but they do have a very active and very angry uterus in this.

TW: Discussion of Menstruation (Bleeding, Cramps/ Abdominal Pain), PMS, and PMDD Symptoms (Including Depression & Thoughts of Suicide) [Note: No one actually says ‘PMDD’, or Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder but that is the syndrome implied]; Brief Mentions of Sex (also small text)

Word Count: 3.7k

“Have any of you seen Tav lately?” Astarion asked, coming to sit next to a handful of his fellow companions seated around their camp’s fire. 

“Why? Has something else gone wrong?” Shadowheart teased back from where she lay against a log, a goblet of half-drunk wine in her hand. “Or perhaps, you’re looking for a bite to eat?” 

“Ha-ha,” Astarion mock laughed. “‘Bite,’ because I’m a vampire, how hilarious Shadowheart.” 

“I don’t know Astarion,” Gale countered from where he was perched on the other side of the former Sharran devotee, “I’d wager you secretly found it rather punny.” 

“Ugh,” Astarion wrinkled his nose at Gale’s words, failing to hide the amused smile that graced his lips. “Honestly Gale, as if the orb isn’t enough.”

Astarion, having lost interest in sitting next to his companions, settled for standing, crossing his arms, and jutting out one hip in his signature semi-annoyed pose.

“Come now Astarion, you can’t say Gale’s love for language comes as a surprise,” Wyll joined the conversation, sheathing his blade after having used Lae’zel’s whetstone to sharpen it. “Why I’d wager even Lae’zel can attest that in the farthest reaches of the Githyanki galaxy, the repetition of a wizard’s sharpened tongue precedes them.” 

Lae’zel huffed affirmatively, taking the opportunity to sharpen her sword. “Tchk. The Blade is right. It is no secret that wizards cannot help but run their mouths.” 

Karlach, having been seated quite literally in the middle of the conversation, from where she lay next to the campfire flames, burst out laughing, sitting up with a start. 

Shadowheart and Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle as well. 

Lae’zel’s eyes glowered as she looked at her other companions. “I do not see the cause for such antics” 

“Yes! Thank you Lae’zel!” Gale spoke up, wagging a finger in protest at the display of his friends. “A wizard’s intellectual prowess is no laughing matter.” 

“That which you discuss has yet to be seen.” Lae’zel rebuffed Gale yet again. 

“Pfft!” Shadowheart nearly choked on her drink as Karlach resumed her boisterous laughter, Wyll joining in this time as well. 

“Enjoying a night of merriment, are we?” Halsin’s deep voice cut through the laughs, his large form coming into view as the Druid emerged from the tree line. Shirtless, and still dripping, his presence brought a warm air to the camp, despite the night’s chilled air. 

“We certainly are now,” Astarion purred, admiring the druid’s half-naked form. 

“Mhhm,” Shadowheart took another sip of her wine. “For once, Astarion,  I’d have to agree.” 

Completely comfortable in his nudity, and unintimidated by the other’s ogling, Halsin strutted confidently over to where his fellow companions had gathered around the fire. “I had just finished bathing when Tav came to the lakeside. Said they were going to take a bath to unwind before bed.” 

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask you to join them,” Astarion mused, eyes still raking up and down Halsin’s sculpted form. 

Halsin gave a half smirk at the compliment, but his mood remained subdued. “They seemed upset. I offered to stay with them, even just to chat, but they insisted they wished to be left alone.“ 

Frowning, Gale scanned the faces of his companions, looking for a negative reaction, finding a similar dower one had made its way across Wyll’s and Karlach’s features. 

Looking to Karlach for solidarity, Wyll spoke up first: “Has anyone noticed Tav to be much more despondent as of late?” 

Karlach nodded. “Yesterday as well. Hells, it’s so odd to see them so down in the dumps. They’re usually leading the charge in making sure the rest of us are happy.”

“Has something changed? Perhaps Raphael contacted them yet again?” Gale supposed. 

Shadowheart shook her head. “Not that I know of. Besides, even if he did, this feels too familiar to just be a coincidence.” 

Lae’zel resheathed her newly sharpened blade before stalking over to the Selunite priestess. “Tchk. If you have something to share ghustil, say it outright.” 

Shadowheart rolled her eyes at the quarrelsome nature of Lae’zel’s words but continued speaking nonetheless. “If I recall correctly, a similar thing happened a while back, a few weeks perhaps.” 

“Yes,” Wyll joined. “I remember Tav crying after one of our battles.” 

“Come now,” Gale countered. “That’s hardly a mystery. It’s completely understandable why they might break down every now and then. It’s been a hard few months, even for a leader as strong as Tav.” 

“Perhaps,” Wyll relented. “Although, I can’t recall Tav giving a specific reason for their meltdown.” 

“‘Reason’?” Asatrion scoffed. “How about the fact that we’re all infected with Mindflayer parasites which could hatch at any moment? On top of which we are expected to destroy this Absolute death cult, lest all of Baldur’s Gate be turned into a tentacle wasteland!” 

“It is enough to make one’s blood run cold.” Gale agreed. 

“I do think Shadowheart may have a point.” Halsin put his two cents in. “I do recall around two months ago, Tav coming to me for healing, relief for abdominal cramps.”

“Oh, well that settles it, doesn’t it? It’s merely that ‘time of the month’, rather unfortunate and annoying, but hardly devastating for our capable leader.” Astarion sounded unconvinced, as he looked down to admire his recently shaped fingernails. 

Halsin shook his head. “I sensed there was more they wished to request aid for. They were holding something back. What exactly and why, I am unsure.” 

“Maybe they’ve just got a tough go of it. I know my whole body was thrown entirely out of whack waking up in Avernus. It took years for me to feel like myself again.�� Karlach gestured at her many scars as she did so. 

All the time, Lae’zel had been listening intensely, a curious look across her face. “What is this ‘time of the month’?” She repeated. “Is it another,” she paused, making sure to pronounce the following word right, “Tiefling trait?” 

Karlach shook her head. “We’re not exempt from it,” she replied honestly. “But no, it’s not just tieflings.” 

“You mean to tell me that female Githyanki don’t have periods?” Shadowheart asked, having thrown all her pretenses out along with the last of her wine. 

“As I have said before ghustil, we do not become parents through sex. When it is time, we are chosen by Vlaakith to lay the eggs of our young.” 

“And this, ‘egg-laying’, as you call it… it, isn’t um, gender specific?” Gale, ever the wizard, just had to know. 

“No. Sex is irrelevant. The only thing of importance is whether you are called by Vlaakith to bear that which houses her future children.” 

“... Right,” Gale answered, feeling rather queasy. “I think that’s all I’d like to know if you don’t mind.”  

“Can we please get back to the point?” Astarion interrupted, rather impatient. “Tav is spiraling or having a mental breakdown or something, and apparently, only the Cleric and Druid noticed, how cliche.” 

 “Alright, Astarion. What do you suggest?” Wyll asked. 

“Well, obviously we need to find out what’s wrong with them so we can fix it.” 

“If it is this ‘time-of-month’, then why not stop it before it comes? You know when it nears, why not strike it down before it starts?” Lae’zel suggested, still not fully understanding what a ‘period’ was for a human. 

“That may not solve all the difficulties Tav is experiencing.” Halsin finally pulled his shirt back over his head, much to the others' collective disappointment. “There is more, although I am uncertain if I should share it, as Tav shared it with me in confidence.” 

“If it could help us help Tav, perhaps it is best to share this once?” Gale suggested. “Normally, I’m not one for shifting loyalties, but I too, have some things I think it’s better I share with the group.” 

“Now that you mention it, I do recall Tav saying something off-color last night,” Astatrion added. 

“What did they say?” Karlach asked.

“They mentioned they had been feeling rather down. Really down. So down, that they, well…” Astarion gave an exasperated huff, clearly uneasy with the topic. “...Tav said that sometimes, they feel like giving up.” 

“What did you tell them?” Wyll asked, encouraging Astarion to go on. 

“I said of course they feel like that! I mean who wouldn't? Between the Mindflayer parasites, the constant goblin attacks, the thieves, and the looming threat of this Absolute Cult, who wouldn't want to lie down for a few hundred years or so?” 

“I must admit, Tav’s confession to me a few months back was similar in nature,” Gale attested. “They expressed how defeated they felt as if nothing they did mattered. All the battles, all the small victories, it didn’t change anything. The Absolute was still going strong, the threat of the world’s end still looming… They asked me if any of it was worth it.” 

Halsin nodded. “I fear I was told more of the same. Tav divulged that they sometimes wondered if I, if we, would fare better on our journey without them.”

A silence fell over the companions, a cerebral, unsettling kind of silence, the kind one could feel resonating, laden within one's bones. 

“Shit,” Karlch said, the first to speak. “I mean, I knew they were upset sometimes, but I just figured we all were.” 

“Halsin,” Shadowheart started, gently. “When Tav told you they thought we’d be better off without them, what did you say?” 

“I embraced them and told them that in no uncertain terms, we needed them to lead us. I reminded Tav how amazing they are, and how, even though they themselves cannot see it, they are truly a marvel to behold. I expressed gratitude for them saving The Grove, for making peace between the tieflings and the druids.”

Wyll nodded along to Halsin’s words, recalling all that he and Tav had managed to accomplish together in such a short time, despite all the odds stacked against them. 

Halsin cleared his throat, swallowing down an ardent wave of emotion that threatened to escalate before he continued: “Lastly, I told them how I felt about them, how we all felt about them, and that should they ever require reminding, they need only ask.” 

From where he stood, Astarion sulked, a guilty expression making its way across his face. “I, I didn’t know. Godsdammit! I should have seen…”

“You cannot blame yourself Astarion.” Halsin did his best to assure his pale elf friend. “Even with Tav’s confession, I fear I did not heed their words the way I should have. Perhaps if I connected the dots more quickly, if I recorded the dates of their depressive episodes, we could have come to this conclusion weeks ago.” 

“What conclusion is that exactly?” Lae’zel enquired. “You say it is not this ‘time-of-month’, and yet, you make no other claims. What cause do you reference?” 

“It’s rare, but sometimes it happens that a human’s reproductive organs seemingly conspire against them,” Gale answered. “Well, more than is to be expected, I should clarify.” 

“Ah. So it is inferior istik reproductive organs to blame for our dear leader’s shakiness. Then perhaps they need be cut out.” 

“Lae’zel!” Gale gasped. 

Lae’zel crossed her arms as if to say ‘what’? 

“It needn’t come to that,” Halsin cut in, diffusing the situation. “That is not to say it’s not a possibility, but only in the most dire and extreme cases.” 

“Yes,” Shadowheart agreed. “And despite my being a cleric and Halsin being a druid, neither one of us is qualified for such procedures.” 

Lae’zel took a moment to process their words. “Indeed, I see. In that case, it is wise that that scalpel-wielding bard is not currently accompanying us. Vlaakith knows his surgical skills are nothing more than mere talk, given his removal of Tav’s eye.” 

“... Is that a joke?” Astarion asked, dumbfounded at Lae’zel’s choice of deadpan delivery amid such a dire discussion.   

“Do not look so surprised shka'keth, I am considered most humorous amongst my people.” 

“You know what?” Wyll butt in, “That, I do believe.” 

 Astarion scoffed. “Well, perhaps, Lae’zel could use her humor to cheer Tav up. Unless any of you have any other ideas?” 

“I think perhaps it would be better for us to sit Tav down for a heart-to-heart. Remind them how much they mean to us.” The Blade of Frontiers did not beat around the bush. 

“I agree,” Halsin seconded. “Perhaps the message coming from us all would be better received than it was coming from me alone.” 

“It’s worth a try,” Karlach agreed. “Gods know we care about them. And there’s no way we would have gotten this far without them.” 

“The tiefling is right. Tav may be istik, but they are still our leader.” Lae’zel spoke up, roused by her companions' sudden ire. “We have a duty to them to finish this, to cleanse these parasites from our bodies and destroy The Absolute.”

Shadowheart sighed, before righting herself and walking over to Lae’zel’s side. “If Lae’zel’s in, then I might as well join. Wyll, what about you? Up for an intervention?” 

Wyll looked at Karlach, catching her eye. Following a triumphant smirk from Karlach, the duo nodded their respective affirmations before joining Halsin, Astarion, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart where they stood. 

And that just left…

“Gale? Care to join us? Or will you be too busy pinning over your ex-goddess girlfriend?” Astarion ribbed. 

Gale shook his head, Astarion’s antics not being a new experience for him at all. 

“I’m not pining, and, even if I were, Tav is much more important at the moment. Why, in fact,” Gale’s voice got quieter, more serious, “Some nights I fear I would give up The Weave, hells, even eternity if it meant Tav would be happy.” 

No one else said anything in response, they didn't need to. It was clear to all of them, that they all loved Tav deeply, even on the days, or weeks Tav couldn't find any love for themselves. 

“Do you think Tav would be done bathing by now? Not that I’d mind getting a little peak, though I’m not sure how they’d feel about that.” Astarion mused. 

“Astarion,” Wyll warned.

“I’m only kidding. Mostly.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be back shortly. Let us prepare what we wish to say so that when they do arrive-” Halsin started, but was cut off by a rustling coming from just beyond the treeline. 

“Wait,” Tav’s voice cut through the air, a welcome bit of color amidst an otherwise chilly night, “Who’s arriving?” 

“Tav!” The companions turned in shock, feeling sheepish, as if they had just been caught in the act. 

“We were hoping you’d return soon,” Shadowheart admitted. 

“There are some things we’d like to discuss,” Gale added. 

Tav pinched the bridge of their nose. “Dammit Astarion, did you go around trying to bite everyone again? We’ve talked about this.” They let out an exasperated sigh. 

“What? Why-?! How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Astarion puffed his chest up, making himself appear larger. “I’ll have you know we were actually discussing-” 

“We’re worried about you soldier,” Karlach interrupted Astarion’s indignant outburst. “We see how hard this has been on you, on all of us.” 

“We want you to know,” Wyll continued the sentiment for her, “That we care about you. And whatever hardships you endure, we’ll endure them with you.” 

“Oh.” 

Their companion’s words stopped Tav dead in their tracks. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. And um, that’s really sweet of you. It’s just,” Tav frowned, “How do I put this? Um… As far as The Absolute and the Mindflayers are concerned, I’m grateful for your help, I am, really. But there are just some things that are-”

“Private,” Astarion finished for Tav. He walked over to Tav, before lowering his voice, speaking only to them. “I think you know,” he whispered, his expression suddenly melancholy, “Better than anyone, why each one of us knows how you feel.” 

And with that, the damn burst, Tav simply couldn't hold it in any longer. 

Their face contorted. They bit their lip before their mouth turned upside down, their nose wrinkled, and their eyes began to water. 

“It’s just been so hard!” Tav cried, their own voice barely more than a whisper. “And just when I think things are okay, that I’m finally better, it all just comes crashing down around me again!” Tav sobbed, their arms dropping to their sides in defeat. 

Moving to comfort them, Astarion placed a tentative hand on their shoulder, gently patting Tav with a ‘there-there’. His eyes darted back to his companions, a begging, uncomfortable look evident on his face. 

Karlach moved first, coming to Tav’s side opposite Astarion. Despite her engine being temporarily fixed, she knew her skin was still hot to the touch. Still, Karlach hoped her closeness would be its own comfort. 

“We’ve got you soldier.” Karlach wrapped the end of her tiefling tail around Tav’s calf. “Just let it all out, it’s okay.” 

Tav sobbed even harder at her words, pulling a rather flustered Astarion in for a tight embrace. 

“Ah. A little help over here!” Astarion whispered harshly past Tav’s ear, their face wedged between his arms and chest, and their tears and snot beginning to dampen his shoulder. 

Shadowheart chuckled, amused that despite him being such a flirt when he wanted, Astaron was still rather unfamiliar with the more platonic, or should she say, non-sexual forms of intimacy. “Step aside.”

Moving over to the huddle sandwich that was Astarion, Tav, and Karlach, Shadowheart wedged her way in between Astarion and Tav. “Just try not to drool too much on my top. It is leather after all.” 

“Tchck, Shadowheart.” Lae’zel chided. She walked over to the huddle, standing a safe six inches away, her arms crossed and brows furrowed. “Clothes are meaningless compared to a fellow soldier.” 

“I’m surprised I find myself agreeing, but Shadowheart, Lae’zel does have a point,” Gale concluded. “Tav’s emotional state is much more important than any item of clothing, or inanimate object.” 

“Says the wizard who eats shoes,” Astarion ribbed from under his breath. 

Gale clicked his tongue at the vampire spawn’s remark, but otherwise paid his pale companion no mind. 

“Besides,” Gale continued, undeterred. “I can always do another load of laundry. Should you ever need a shoulder to cry on, know that mine will always be available, tears or otherwise.” 

Tav nodded, enthusiastically grateful, switching from Shadowheart’s shoulder to Gale’s. 

Sighing, as the cool purple velvet rubbed against their cheek, Tav began to slow their breathing, gaining better control of the sobs that had previously uncontrollably wracked their body. 

“We may not know exactly what it is you’re going through, but that doesn’t make you any less of a leader worthy of our time and affection,” Wyll spoke up as he came to join the hug pile. “And sharing your fears and sadness does not make you a burden, it makes you strong.” 

Tav wailed once more, nodding emphatically as they did so. Deep down, they knew all that their friends had shared to be true, but they were not able to convince themselves of it on their own. 

“And if this sadness of yours comes at the same time every month, it may indicate a hormonal condition. Should that be the case, there are many treatments and spells we can cast to ease your pain.” 

“Really?” Tav asked through sniffles. 

“Indeed,” Halsin nodded, having walked over to also join his gathered companions. “Although there is something simpler, something I always have readily available.” 

“Don’t you dare—” Astarion started. 

At the same time Lae’zel spoke her own words of protest: “Do it druid, and you may very well live to regret it.” 

Tav ignored their outbursts and instead asked Halsin what he had in mind. 

“This,” he said, before outstretching his arms and encompassing everyone in a great big bear hug. 

Squished between their dear companions, their friends, their allies in this fight, and the next, Tav, for the first time in days, began to feel truly loved. 

The world may have looked bleak and hopeless, and with a raging uterus, it may have looked even more so, but as long as Tav had their friends, they would never know true defeat. 

…

Squashed between an equally irate Githyanki and a rather sentimental wizard, Astarion wriggled, trying to break free, but to no avail. Turning his head left to face his frog-esque friend, Astarion whispered threats under his breath.  

“I say the next time he wildshapes into a bear, we put a pretty pink collar around his neck and march him into town as punishment.”

“Chk. I find that offer rather agreeable.” 

“I dunno. I rather like this kind of medicinal approach.” Karlach said, feeling overjoyed to simply be touched. 

“You know he can hear you, right?” Wyll, ever the pragmatist, spoke from across the expanse of Halsin’s broad chest in order to address Astarion. 

Halsin nodded in the affirmative upon hearing Wyll’s words.

Astarion groaned. “Well, clearly he has now!” 

“And here I thought vampires were stealthy.” Shadowheart teased. 

“Oh, trust me, darling, all of your times shall come. Count on it!” 

“Astarion?” Tav‘s muffled voice asked from where their face was squished into Gale’s chest. 

Tav managed to pull their head away from Gale’s purple robe just long enough to give Astarion their best puppy-dog-eyed look. “Be nice? Pleaseeee?” They drew out the end of the ‘please,’ innocently batting their eyes as they did so. 

“... Fine. But don’t get used to it,” Astarion resigned before tossing his hair. “I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“Mhhm,” Tav agreed, putting their face back against Gale’s velvet-covered chest. 

They knew this moment couldn’t last forever, and it certainly wouldn’t solve all their problems— mind flayers, hormones, or otherwise. But they could at least stay put like that for just a minute longer. 

Or as a matter of fact? Make that two. 

A/N 2.0: So there it is! I hope you enjoyed. This is definitely something I needed to read like two weeks ago, and also a month ago, and then the month before that lol. 

After this, we are back to our regularly scheduled programming. I will make an upcoming ask list, just so everyone is clear as to what is up and coming.

As always Please Like, but most importantly, REBLOG!!!

(Reblogs mean more than Likes because they project my work to a larger audience.)

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[lizdive]

Heyy :3 I saw your Lynette! Reader and I'm love with it 🥰 Can I also request some version for Welt, Gallagher, Argenti? Ofc platonic all they wayy [I love ur work 🫶🫶🫶]

Yes you can nonnie 🫡🩷 thank you so much for your sweet words MWAH MWAH 🫶🫶 thank you for requesting !! if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it <33 ALSO !! NOT CLICKBAIT I GOT TWO POSTS OUT TODAY AND THE CROWD WENT HOME 💯‼️ *Comically gets tomatoes thrown at me* /j

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a teenager ,, reader is based off of "lynette" from the game genshin impact ,, platonic relationships ,, mentions of being sold, close to being 'used', creepy old men, and other things relating to lynette’s past ,, mentions of various other characters in various parts ,, platonic relationships ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Much like Dan Heng, WELT did not expect you to fully trust anyone on the express quickly, which was why he tried to make himself seem as welcoming as possible even though he very much is welcoming on his own.

⭑ He was patient with you and respected your boundaries, and when you’d give him your wacky replies he’d just nod his head and leave you alone. He never pushed you to do stuff with any of the members and was overall pretty chill.

⭑ His comforting and welcoming vibes alone helped you trust him easier than the other members of the express, and soon enough Welt found himself walking around with you trailing behind him like a duckling. If he was sitting in the parlor cart, you were next to him practicing or showing him your card tricks. If he was in his room, you were probably there just in the corner doing your thing.

⭑ Tea time anytime anywhere. WELT will always have the time to enjoy tea and snacks with you whenever you’d like! If you make your treats yourself, he’ll help you make them, too. It’s nice bonding time. He’ll also learn a thing or two about tea making from you as it seems that you take the art very very seriously.

⭑ He’s not a swordsman by any means but he’s seen many different fighting styles in his time so he’ll give you some tips on how to improve. He’d still prefer for someone else to properly mentor you and by someone else I mean Dan Heng as he’s the closest one to a swordsman on the express.

⭑ Like some others in the first part, he’ll keep something sweet with him in his pocket so if you’re ever craving something sweet or feeling hungry in general he’ll be able to hand you the sweet treat easily. Feels bad whenever he doesn’t have anything on hand, especially when there aren’t any stores nearby.

⭑ He can do the talking for you if you want him to. He’ll calmly tell others that you aren’t comfortable with conversations and that he’ll be doing the talking for you during interactions. If they don’t cooperate then he’ll just,, leave with you. He needn’t waste both of your times with someone who cannot respect boundaries.

⭑ Not surprised by your feline features as he’s seen many things in his time, but if you lean more into the feline mannerisms he’ll give you extra head-pats and ear scratches and may buy you cat toya if you want them. Makes sure you take care of your nails too!! Doesn’t want you hurting yourself.

⭑ He doesn’t mind participating in your performances. He,,,, he has experience on stage,,,, ahaha,,,, WELT can entertain a crowd! Doesn’t like the tricks that involve the both of you getting a bit messy thought like the water container, but he’ll indulge you in any other tricks! He also doesn’t mind watching your performances! He’ll smile and clap after every trick, praising your skill and what you do. He’s very supportive and would be honored if you teach him how you do what you do.

⭑ If you ever open up to him about your past, he’ll be there for you as he pats your head and rubs your back soothingly, telling you to take your time and that he’s so proud of you for getting through that and having the courage to tell him all of this.

⭑ Like Veritas, I don’t think WELT do anything to the man should he still be alive. He’ll help you forget him if you’re bothered by the memories and help you heal should you be repressing emotions. He’ll teach you how to accept and will make sure by the end of your journey you’ll be the best self you can be. He’s already so proud of you.

⭑ You both are like old people with technology and both learn as you go. A member of the express teaches WELT something, he’s quick to message or tell you about it and vice versa.

"Humans are complicated creatures. Even when they are not doing so intentionally, they will still unconsciously hide their true selves. Though I can always notice a few 'redundant' details, I won't expose their facades when it isn't necessary."

"That’s… very nice of you?"

⭑ You were a performer at the bar, many of the patron and visitors flocking to the bar just to watch your amazing performances. GALLAGHER couldn’t deny that you were a talented kid, and he also quite enjoyed your performances.

⭑ You were young, so it’s not surprise some people did try to get you to work for them instead in hopes of exploiting you. GALLAGHER would always step in if they were being too insistent and sometimes even kick them up, however most of the time they left you alone due to your eccentric replies. They always made him snicker in amusement secretly.

⭑ GALLAGHER will make you drinks as you work and fix up small snacks if there’s anything available. Because of you he’s become a bit of a tea-making expert. Every time you take a break or finish a performance he’ll have a nice cup of tea set up for you in the staff room at the back. He awaits your feedback.

⭑ When you invite him to joins you in your tea breaks? He’s either tossing the bar to Siobhan or another employee, and if there’s non then uhm,,, yeah he can’t join you but he’ll make it up to you! And if you help him with drink making he’ll cry a bit internally. You’re such a good kid,,,

⭑ Not only are you both a good duo in the bar, but you both are a good duo in officer work. He’s is a bit intimidated with your swordsmanship, but he also admires your quick and clean cuts. You become his unofficial official assistant sometimes when it comes to snatching up criminals and it’s actually kind of fun.

⭑ You suck at technology, he’s decent at it, he doesn’t mind. If you want to improve he’ll help you out but if you don’t he’ll supervise you whenever you’re using anything relating to technology so that you don’t burn the bar down or something. Is it possible to get hurt in the dreamscape? I can’t remember. But still, he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

⭑ Calls you 'kitty' jokingly but if you get upset he’ll drop it. Also, only he’s allowed to call you that. Nobody else. He feels that if others do it then it’s mocking you — even if they mean well he just doesn’t like it so only he can do it.

⭑ He’ll help you practice but I don’t think he’d perform insane acts with you. Maybe the more simplistic ones or ones that don’t require him doing really complex things. He just doesn’t want to mess up and ruin your acts. If you want him to do a dramatic announcement for you before you go on stage, he’ll do so happily.

⭑ The moment you open up to GALLAGHER trust that he’ll make sure you’re much more guarded and kept safe. He’ll also be much more observant of the patrons and visitors and nobody will be offering you work offers. He’ll ask you during your break times if anyone tried to do anything to you, and if so, to give him as many details as you possibly can. No need to ask why — he’ll deal with them.

⭑ Should the man that you were sold to dare be alive and enter the bar, GALLAGHER will have him out of there before you even catch a glimpse of him. He’ll also make sure that man is out of the dreamscape. Man, Sleepie has been needing a new toy as of recent!

⭑ Does the talking for you but at the same time not many people will be talking to you anyways after your performances because you’re having your tea break and so he’ll tell anyone that wants to interact with you that you’re unavailable for the rest of the time.

"If you explain a magic trick, then the allure of the performance is lost. Personal relationships are the same. If you want to understand me, why not learn a bit at a time, and gradually piece together a complete picture?"

"I like how you think, kid. Don’t change your mindset ever, got it?"

⭑ A new feline-featured performer holding a show in a planet nearby? Oh how delightful! ARGENTI’s getting a ticket to your show the second they’re available! He’s always loved performances and shows as they show how skilled others are and are always so beautiful.

⭑ He absolutely loved your performance and even wanted to thank you personally for the lovely time! And so after the lights were back on and all guests left, he made his way outside in search of you with an appreciative rose in hand which he expected he’d be able to give to you.

⭑However, what ARGENTI didn’t expect was for you to give him the wackiest response ever. He blinked, handed you the rose, and then continued to converse with you. He’s like Sunday but oblivious — there is no winning with him he can talk for hours.

⭑ It’s a huge yapper / listener situation. You travel a lot for performances and he travels a lot in search of Idrila, so you can’t escape him because he has the excuse to follow you around. Well, he does protect you even if it’s not needed due to your swordsmanship, but it’s convenient so you guess it’s fine.

⭑ ARGENTI also does all the talking for you which is a nice and huge bonus. Sometimes he does it without even realizing and nobody is able to make him shut up. It’s a big win win for the both of you and he never brings it up out of concern because you don’t seem bothered by it.

⭑ Finds your feline features beautiful and would love to help you groom your ears and tail if you’d let him !! He’s be very gentle as he brushes out the loose furs and if you like head pats / ear scratches he’ll sneak them in while he grooms your ears. He’s somehow so good at it for being a first timer (or so he claims.)

⭑ Very present in your performances and will always be there to support you and cheer you on, handing you a rose as a congratulations for the successful show. If you perform for him alone during your free-time, he’ll clap with a big smile and tell you how wonderful that was and how you’re improving so much.

⭑ ARGENTI is probably the best performance partner out of everyone because he puts in so much emotion with the tricks and acts he pulls. Also, he doesn’t mind being in front of a large crowd and he manages to captivate their attentions so that’s a bonus. You’re deadpan and he’s very emotional. A good duo.

⭑ If you open up to him, ARGENTI will be appalled. Not at you — never ever you — but at that disgusting man who dared to even think about using you. He’ll promise you that he’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again and then he’ll ask if there’s anything he can do to make you feel better. Would you like a specially prepared fish dish? Some sweets? Tea?

⭑ Speaking of tea, he loves tea time with you! It’s a nice time for the two of you to bond and relax from life, enjoying the flavors of the teas that would vary each time you prepared some. If you teach him how you make your teas he’ll be over the moon.

⭑ I don’t think ARGENTI is bad with tech, he’s probably pretty good, so he’ll help you figure out how to not bust everything that contains some sort of tech or machinery. If you break things he won’t be upset or anything — he’s a pretty patient person. He’ll care more about you and if you’re injured.

⭑ Spars with you and constantly praises your agility and clean cuts. You both share tips and tricks for tending to your weapons and fighting in general, too. ARGENTI won’t be too rough on you but he will put up a challenge — he genuinely wants you to improve!

"Building a relationship with someone is like gambling. No matter how much information you have, it's hard to predict how other people might change. I've always had the habit of keeping a safe distance from others, but in your case... I'm willing to shoulder the risk of losing a bet."

"I promise you, you will not regret this gamble nor will you lose."

[eepwriting]

hiii can i request submissive vessel worshipping the reader pls 🫶🏻

Subby Vessel Headcanons

Warnings: nsfw sandwiched between sweetness

Hiii! Thank you for the request 🤍 I love subby sweet vessel!! Decided to do a list format to switch things up a little.

!! mdni !!

✧༝┉˚ MASTERLIST ˚┉༝✧

Join my 🏷️ taglist here ♡

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

✶ This man just loves you.

✶ Will call and text you when he’s away, rambling about how much his heart aches with how much he misses you.

✶ Constantly talks about you to whoever will listen. A bright smile on his face as he gushes about you.

✶ When you’re together though…oh boy.

✶ Man cannot keep his hands off you. Always has to be touching you in some way.

✶ His favorite handholds are your thighs. When you’re sitting together his hand is either trapped between your closed legs or he’s massaging and groping at your skin.

✶ Will spend hours between your legs and is quick to get on his knees if you ask him.

✶ Once his mouth is on you it’s incredibly difficult to push him away. If you try, he’s whining into your skin, pulling you to him.

✶ He’ll apologize if he’s overdone it with the stimulation but always claims he “just can’t get enough of you.”

✶ Let’s out the prettiest sounds when he goes down on you. Sometimes just at the sight of you.

✶ Whispers praises and compliments on your skin when he kisses over your neck and shoulders.

✶ The first time he saw you naked he just sat there for a solid 15 seconds just looking at you. Eventually reached out to touch you, dropping to his knees in front of you, eyes wide as he looked you up and down.

✶ You can safely say you’d never felt more wanted than you did that night.

✶ He gets offended if you talk bad about yourself.

✶ If you’re feeling self conscious about your appearance he finds the nearest mirror and sets you in front of it. Runs his hands over you and makes you repeat affirmations and compliments about yourself.

✶ Will definitely fuck you slowly in front of said mirror. Tells you to watch yourself so you can see what he sees.

✶ If you send him photos of yourself, innocent or not, he’s immediately saving the picture and spewing out multiple texts and paragraphs about how perfect you are.

✶ Tells you often how he believes you “were made just for me.”

✶ Stops mid thrust sometimes to just admire you, mumbling something along the lines of “I can’t believe all this is just for me.”

✶ Goes out of his way to shower you with gifts and gestures to show you how much he appreciates you.

✶ He always remembers the little things you say in passing. You spot something in a store you’d like to have? He’s surprising you with it later in the week. You want to travel to your dream destination? He’s booking the flights and hotel and making an itinerary.

✶ Never complains about money he spends on you because “If it’s to make you happy, I’ll be a broke man.”

✶ Just genuinely and wholeheartedly wants and loves you in every way possible and makes sure that you know.

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Try not to yearn for vessel challenge: IMPOSSIBLE

I just know he’d be the sweetest partner y’all.

Thank you again anon for requesting this!! 🤍

Let me know if y’all like this list format too 👀 it’s definitely easier to write this way lol

K. Bye bye.

[princessamericachavez]

Even before the episode, while rewatching old seasons, I was just struck by how big an impact Buck’s had on Eddie’s life. 

Like, please, picture this: 

You are Eddie Diaz, ok? An army vet who quite literally just went through an extremely traumatic experience, immediately got left by your wife and in a desperate move to find happiness for you and your son you move across the country to start a new life. 

You are the new guy at work and this man about your age really has it out for you. That’s fine by you. You’ve put up with enough bullshit in the army, you are just here to do your work, it’s harder than that to get under your skin. Plus, this guy seems okay, aside from all the dick measuring, and you’re sure he’ll tire himself out if you just don’t play along. Then, oh surprise, after a single shift you give the guy one compliment and he folds completely, before you know it he’s decided you two are friends. Fine, good. You miss the army’s camaraderie. This will probably be just like that. 

Few weeks in, Christopher comes up. You hesitate because you don’t like talking about your kid with strangers, but you are worried about him being out there alone during the earthquake and there’s really no way to avoid the subject forever. You’re already dreading the pity looks from people who don’t understand this kid is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Instead, you get a wide smile, “he’s super adorable, I love kids”. In retrospect, you should’ve expected it. What you don’t expect is the way Buck spends the entirety of the shift reassuring you that Chris is alright, even when you’re pretty sure you’ve done nothing to betray your worry (you know better than to panic, it does nothing to help), but Buck seems to notice anyway and keeps sprouting curiosities to reassure you. He even drives you across the torn up town at a reckless speed to make sure you can reach your son as soon as possible. 

Few weeks later, abuela has an accident. Buck drives you to the hospital, even though you could’ve taken a cab to the firehouse to pick up your truck, and goes all the way in with you. He’s a good friend like that. Turns out, he’s a very good friend, because he catches you by surprise calling ahead to let the Cap know you need help with Chris and arranges a whole day of him hanging out with the 118. You didn’t ask for it, and he doesn’t expect so much as a ‘thank you’. 

Next night, he makes a big deal of introducing you to a woman and you are already dreading, once again, the reveal moment when you have to explain that thank you very much but you are still married and really your only priority right now is your son and- wait, that woman is the perfect caretaker that might or might not be the solution you’ve been desperately searching for to get your and your son’s life together.

This guy you just met a few weeks ago has given you friendship, reassurance, company, thoughtful help without you ever asking (you’ve never been good at asking for it) and he’s just sitting there smiling proudly while he helps you possibly assure your kids future.

All of this... it happens in the first FOUR episodes of s2 after Eddie is introduced. No wonder he’s in love ride or die for Buck. Who wouldn’t be?

In a year, they are inseparable. In two years, Eddie makes him Christopher’s legal guardian in case he dies. In three, Buck saves his life. In four they are basically a family and the person Christopher goes to in a panic. Five years in, Buck is in a coma and Eddie Diaz cannot even look at him, cannot picture a world where he’s dead, cannot envision his life without him. 

[omikazu]

birds of a feather.

tooru oikawa x fem!reader

— you love tooru, and he loves you back, but unfortunately for you both, you each love something else a little more.

warnings: angst with no comfort.

for you, loving oikawa tooru has always felt as natural as breathing.

from attending his practice matches to recording tapes of his practice from various angles so he can watch it later and make improvements, there was no shortage of what you were willing to do to make your boyfriend happy.

seeing him shine had once filled you with the sort of profound pride that made you feel like you could throw away everything just to be with him and witness him all his glory.

but of course, that was just an especially prolonged intrusive thought that you pushed to the side because just like oikawa, you had your own dreams and aspirations that you wouldn’t be able to cast aside, not for anybody, not ever.

not even for your tooru.

towards the middle of your third year in high school, just like tooru, you have finally realised what you wanted to do with your life, and ironically enough, it was watching tooru at practice that made you come to the damning awakening that you simply just cannot live your life going by a schedule. you just weren’t the sort of person that can wake up at the same time every morning, train, only eat healthy and live your life by a system.

as your awakening slowly sunk into you, the eventual horror of your realisation settled in. you have come to understand that your way of living life was to travel around the world. study in one continent, intern in another, work in another, and never to settle in one single place.

you wanted to be free. you wanted to soar the skies like a bird and always keep landing someplace new. this new understanding also came with the inevitable conclusion that your relationship with tooru would come to an end eventually.

you remember staring blankly at the college application forms sitting limply upon your cold arms, blinking thickly to hold the tears that were threatening to fall. you were initially planning on going to university in argentina, since you didn’t have anything particular that you wanted to do anyway, you decided you might as well support your very decisive boyfriend with his big dreams.

but that wouldn’t be possible anymore, thanks to the invisible shackles holding you down from being free, from soaring the skies with nothing holding you down. you realised that things like these were never going to be easy to begin with, because the weight holding you down is the love you have for a boy who has been with you through hell and through heaven. that weight would never be easy to detach yourself from.

you let the feeling of dread overcome your body, not daring to move an inch as your mind fills itself with thoughts of how you were going to break it to your unassuming boyfriend, who was still of the opinion that you were going to follow him.

four months later, you stand shaking in front of an unfazed tooru, who didn’t look the least bit surprised at your sudden declaration that you weren’t going to join him in argentina.

“i always sort of you knew,” he says, shrugging, before letting the volleyball fly into the air as he runs to reach it with his hand before slamming it down onto the other side of the net. he clicks his tongue when the ball connects the ground outside the outline of the court. it was an out.

“i’m really glad you finally know what you want for yourself, y/n,” he says turning to you, and you’re surprised to see that he’s being sincere. “i have to admit that i actually felt really guilty when you started looking for colleges in argentina.”

you roll your eyes at his second sentence. it reeked of insincerity, and the way he averted his gaze before he said that told you everything you need to know.

“no, you didn’t,” you counter, as tooru’s brows furrow together. “you didn’t feel guilty, tooru.”

he tries his best to maintain his confused stare, but he can’t fool you. you don’t miss the way his expression falters at your words.

“you felt relieved,” you sigh, sinking down onto the floor and spreading out your legs. “you were glad you got rid of the deadweight without having to do any prompting yourself, aren’t you?”

tooru’s expression melts into an unreadable one, as he gulps once, and then twice, wordlessly. as if he doesn’t know what to respond with, and so you take the lead again. “you never even wanted me to go, but you were too scared to tell me that, weren’t you?” you say, as softly as you could, but you still know that your words are prickly. “you’re not happy for me, you’re relieved for yourself.”

“that’s not true,” tooru snaps, clicking his tongue as he stomps his way over to where you are sat, arms crossed defiantly across his chest with his lips set in a petulant pout. “i just want the best for you, and it’s not like following me to another continent is in your best interests, especially since you weren’t sure what you wanted to do.”

“what if you hated it there?! what if you realised you were happier here? i would never have forgiven myself for letting you go with me,” tooru snaps, drawing in a sharp breath. “go ahead, let it all out, no need to hold anything back,” you say, eyes downcast. there is something else that you know he’s itching to say, something that wouldn’t be pleasant, no matter how you see it.

“and…” he trails off, looking away from you before continuing, tone subdued all of a sudden. “and.. what if my guilt overruns the reason i’m going to argentina in the first place..”

you let out a scoff, half smiling at his honesty, trying your best not to look as crushed as you felt on the inside. “see? i knew it, that was your real concern,” you say, rolling your eyes. “you were just worried i’d be deadweight. you didn’t want the emotional baggage, and secretly wished for me to stay back so you could get a clean break and start afresh eighteen thousand miles away.”

you’re angry, and it isn’t because oikawa wanted to break up with you, but because he didn’t have the balls to tell you that he wanted to start a completely new life, with no strings from his old life connecting to his fresh start. you have never been the unbearably clingy type, you would’ve understood eventually. maybe you would’ve shed a few tears over his decision, but who wouldn’t? over a long term relationship that has weathered many storms, there isn’t anyone who wouldn’t.

you’ve always known volleyball was oikawa’s one true love, and that competing with the sport for the top spot in his heart would only lead to crushing defeat, so you’ve never even tried.

“y/n, you’re being cruel—”

“why didn’t you just tell me?!”

you snap, slapping away his arms as they tried to reach out to you, getting onto your feet to extend the distance between you two.

“you could’ve just told me,” you say, your voice shaky. “you shouldn’t have kept quiet and let me do something we would both regret, knowing that isn’t what you wanted.”

“because i’m selfish,” oikawa responds, his voice hollow as he looked you dead in your eyes. “i just decided to ignore the two sides within me warring between taking you with me or letting you go, and the selfish part of me won, the side of me that wanted you close to me, even though i knew it was the worst possible thing for your future. i was scared of how i’d fare in a country so far away from everything i’ve ever known and grown up with, and i just wanted you close to me.”

“tooru—”

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, inching forward as he closes the distance between the two of you, burying his face into your neck as his arms tightly bound your waist. “i was so scared, i’m still scared. i don’t know what i’m going to do without you. i don’t know how i’m going to survive.”

you hug him back without a secone thought, your right arm caressing his hair as your left arm soothingly rubs his back, because just like always, loving oikawa tooru comes as naturally to you as breathing, except this time, his tight hold on your waist felt more restraining than comforting.

“i know, tooru,” you say, shutting your eyes as you breathe him. just one last time. “it’s scary, and it’s going to be difficult, but if anyone’s crazy enough about volleyball to power through, i know it’s you,” you say reassuringly.

the two of you stay that way for a while, neither saying a word. it was obvious that both of you were terrified of even moving an inch, because once you move, it’s over. all the highs and all the lows, all the smiles and all the tears, all the comforting kisses and cuddles, they’d all be over.

but just as cruel fate would have it, you couldn’t just nestle into each other and rot that way, so after what feels like an eternity, the two of you pull away from each other at the same time, as if you were telepathically connected. you take your arms off of tooru, noting how they felt like weights, and noticing him hesitate, you pull his arms away from your waist soon after.

there were no more words exchanged, and you subconsciously know that this will be the last time you ever see each other until somewhere in the future, both of you heal enough to be in the other’s presence.

you nod at tooru, before you turn your back at him to walk out of the volleyball gym. your legs felt heavier than usual, but with every step, they seemed to get lighter, as you curse yourself for feeling free the moment you moved tooru’s arms away from you, but you reassure yourself through the tears that now fell past your lashes that he feels the same way too.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Why Don't You Stay; We've Got Tonight II (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader NSFW)

Find Part One Here

A/N: Y'all asked, y'all shall receive. Thank you all again for the support; I love writing for every single one of you.

I would like to also personally thank my Brainstorming Buddy/ Editor @strawb3rri-le. the last three or four fics I've posted, including this one, would not have been possible had it not been for you, so I thank you from the literal bottom of my heart for being the Lennon to my McCartney in this writing journey. Here's to many more wonderful stories to come! <3

Summary: You and Paul get intimate after agreeing to be there for one another.

This is also inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so be sure to listen to that for your own listening/ reading pleasure!

WARNINGS: SMUT, please don't interact if you're under the age of 18, I'll call your mom. Fluffy unprotected sex (Wrap it before you Tap it amirite?) ANGST; this fic gets SAD midway through, mentions of cheating/ exes being stupid, but there is fluff in the end which makes it all better. Swearing is a given, maybe a few typos.

This one is rated 18+ or R, so tread with caution ONLY if you're of age please, I cannot stress that enough!!!

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I really am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

Paul was watching you from what little light was flooding through the window of his room. He could have asked you that question a hundred more times; but he just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He opened his mouth to inquire yet again, but you stepped towards him, lips connecting with his to ease his worries. You felt his tension melt away slowly, hands drifting down to hold your waist as you placed one hand on his chest, the other resting on his shoulder.

You pulled away slightly to glance at his sweater, and Paul watched you intensely as your hand slid down the fabric painfully slow, your fingers dipping into every clothed muscle on his torso until they were toying with the hem at his hips.

"... This should go," you suggested in a hushed tone, and after a moment of letting the recommendation settle in both of your minds, Paul let go of you, pulling it up and off him with your help, and the sweater fell to the carpet with a soft thud.

When your hand returned to his chest, now bare, you examined just how toned he was. You had no clue someone of Paul's stature could be hiding such a body under simple knit sweaters and turtlenecks; but it was a pleasant surprise.

As your palm drifted around his skin, feeling the light hairs on his chest, his own fingers couldn't help but drag along the uppermost edge of your own pyjama top. His gentle touch left a trail of goosebumps on you, his eyes following his fingers as his hand slowed to a stop above your heart.

"And, perhaps this, as well...?" Paul asked rather innocently, eyes flitting back up to meet your own gaze. You nodded a little, watching as he ran his tongue against his bottom lip. "Lift up."

You raised your arms for him, and felt your top slide up and off you, his fingers grazing your sides gently as he removed it from your body. Paul held it in his hands for a moment, eyes drifting down a little to look at the sight before him. The top fell to the floor, along with his discarded sweater, and you both stared at each other for a moment.

Paul's eyelids lowered and he sighed at you, hands reaching out to hold you again. He cupped you at the base of your ribs, his thumbs drawing nonsensical patterns on the skin under your breasts as he closed the gap between you again. As your lips pressed together, Paul slowly walked you back to the edge of his bed, where you lowered yourself to sit when you felt the mattress against the back of your legs.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, finally pulling away to look at you again. His hands moved up carefully to cup your breasts, and you shut your eyes. He gauged your reaction to his touch, and feeling his thumbs run gently over your nipples made your head drop back. You whined a little, that familiar, yet longing feeling you hadn't experienced in a while was making itself known deep within you.

His hot breath was fanning against your skin, and Paul asked you in the most delicate tone, a simple, yet effective, "May I?" And all you could do was nod to him.

You whined again when Paul's lips made contact with your breast, his left hand kneading the other carefully as his right squeezed your side in affection. You slid your hands up through his hair, and you felt him moan against your left nipple as his other hand rolled your right one between his fingers.

You both had to try your best to keep on the quieter side since it was so late; and no one else should have known what you two were doing. Unfortunately, Paul's... handiwork... wasn't anything to be quiet about.

"Paul," you choked out, tilting your head up a little, and he removed his mouth from your nipple to look you right in the eyes.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you nodded your head rather frantically, spurring him to get right back to work, but switching sides, lips and tongue teasing your right breast as your left now gained the attention of his fingers.

Your knees fell away from one another as you tilted your head back again, breath ragged as Paul worked his magic. You felt his hand slide down your waist to drag along the band on your pyjama bottoms, but he was in no rush to tell you to take them off.

His hand actually continued to slide down to your thigh, and he squeezed you gently as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, and you rolled your hips against his body on reflex, choking out another whine as you tugged at his hair a little harder. He smiled with a pleasant hum before pulling his mouth away from your body.

You huffed at the cool air hitting your wet breasts, but he placed another warm kiss on your lips, one of his hands holding the back of your neck, and your discomfort faded away almost instantly. His other hand was still on your thigh, but slowly trailing back up to the waistband on your pyjama bottoms.

Paul deepened the kiss just for a moment as his finger hooked into the band. When you both separated again, he rested his forehead against yours, heavy eyes opening to look at you.

"Isn't it about time these go, too?" There was something so carnal about his words, yet they still held an abundant amount of respect for you, and your comfort; and, dear God, it turned you on so badly.

You didn't even respond to his question. You just removed your hands from his hair so you could support yourself from the mattress from your elbows, raising your hips off the bed a little so he could pull the rest of the clothes off your body. You watched as Paul did just that, your bottoms relinquished to the pile of clothes building off to the side, your legs not so spread apart anymore.

It looked as if he were in a trance, hands on your thighs as he examined your nude body in fascination. You watched him watch you, still propped up on your elbows, and you felt almost embarrassed under his gaze until he mumbled, fingers kneading into the tense muscles on your legs, "perfect. Absolutely perfect."

You blushed as he tenderly spread your legs open, unhurriedly, and he groaned at the sight of just how wet you were for him.

"Oh, Darling..."

Your face felt so hot, especially when you watched him lick those damned lips of his again.

"I want to taste you, you look so damn sweet." His thumbs continued to massage between your thighs, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter. You felt like you needed to return the favour.

"I... Did you want me to--"

"No," Paul interrupted lightly with a simple shake of his head. It was like he read your mind. "Keep moaning, keep pulling my hair. Those beautiful noises you're making have me feeling the best kind of way right now."

Every word he said contributed to enhancing the pit of arousal you were feeling within, and you were almost speechless. No one had ever spoken to you that way before, not even your ex, the one with whom you felt you shared your most intimate moments with. But after what had already happened in that room, between you and Paul, comparing them was out of the question.

You could feel his breath against your heat, your blood pumping loud in your ears.

"Paul, please..." you whispered, but he just stared at you, fingers still rubbing your thighs.

"Please what, Lovely?" You knew he was doing this on purpose, especially when he rested his head down onto your left leg to give you those alluring puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't give you what you what you want if you don't tell me what it is you need."

Your mouth formed a few shapes without you making a sound. You sighed, breath shaky as you gathered enough composure to groan, "I need your mouth. Please."

"Where?" Paul asked innocently. You were secretly loving the way he was teasing you, but on the other hand, you were beginning to feel desperate for his touch. His left hand reached up towards you, and a single finger rested against the skin between your breasts.

"Here?" He questioned softly, dark eyes watching you as you shook your head. He dragged his finger so painfully slow down your body, stopping at your abdomen to ask again.

"What about here?"

"Please," you were begging him at this point, but Paul continued to take his time, drawing his finger lower, and lower, until he was just above your folds.

"Just little lower," you pleaded to him desperately, and when you finally felt him pull his hand away to hold your thighs apart, you knew he was done playing games with you.

He gave you one more sultry look before dropping his head between your legs, tongue gently lapping away at your arousal, and you cried out his name. He opened his eyes to watch you react from his place as he continued rolling his tongue against you at an even pace.

You lowered your back to the bed, legs instinctively trying to squeeze together at the feeling of Paul's sweet mouth where you needed him most, but he continued to hold a firm grip on your thighs to keep them in place.

His beard scratched at your legs a little, but in the best kind of way. His nose bumped against your clit and your hands found their way back into his mess of locks again, tugging and driving him closer to you. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting a chill up through your body.

He pulled away a little, mouth shining with your arousal, and his eyelashes lowered over his eyes as he mumbled, "Oh, my dear, you taste better than I ever dreamed you would."

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the idea of such a beautiful man dreaming about being between your legs and tasting you, and wanting this had you feeling some kind of way.

"Please, don't stop," you whined gently, and he responded with a quiet laugh.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I'm nowhere near being done with you yet. Don't you worry."

A mix of relief and lust rushed your emotions, and Paul's eyes continued to watch you as he let go of your right leg, hand coming up to his face before putting his middle finger in his mouth.

You stared in anticipation as he pulled his saliva-covered finger out from between his lips before plunging it right into you, and you cried out again, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as you pushed your hips up against his hand.

It was Paul's turn to stare, and you felt him curl his finger inside of you before adding another and repeating the beckoning motion again, free hand pressing your hip down to keep you from moving so much.

"You okay, Lovely?" He asked in a low tone, watching as your body twitched and writhed with everything he did.

"Yes, keep going, Paulie," you whimpered, encouraging his hand to quicken before he dipped back down, lips wrapping around your nub, and all you could see were stars. Your hips rocked up again, and Paul released your waist a little to let you squirm around.

"Paulie, I'm gonna..." you stumbled over your words as you felt your orgasm nearing quickly, your hands balled into tight fists in his hair still. One more finger curl was all he had to do before you released all over them with a cry. You mumbled nonsensical speech as Paul pulled back a little and admired his achievement, your arousal dripping down his hand as he let you ride it out.

"That's it, do whatever makes you feel good, my angel." His praise was addicting, your eyes rolled back as you revelled in this state of euphoria. It wasn't long before your hips fell back onto the bed, and you sighed out when Paul removed his fingers from you.

You took a moment to fixate your gaze on him. His pupils were blown, staring at you in the face with his lips parted. You relieved some of the tightness in your fists so you weren't gripping his hair so hard, mumbling a whispered apology for being so harsh with that.

Paul responded to you, not with words, but by stalking up your body slowly, silently, as a predator would to its prey; and he pressed a kiss to your mouth, tongue pushing its way past your teeth so you could taste yourself.

You groaned, sitting up slowly as to not break the kiss. You reached down towards the belt wrapped around his hips, undoing it blindly and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. You needed him, and he was strained so tightly in those trousers, you knew it couldn't have been comfortable for him. You parted from the kiss, but keeping the distance close between you two.

"Are you positive you don't want me going down on you?" Your question seemed as innocent as if could have been, and Paul just smiled a little with another head shake.

"Baby girl, as long as you're getting off, so am I."

You hummed at his response. You hoped he wouldn't quit with the pet names. Your eyes glanced down to the jeans you were in the middle of taking care of, and Paul was already popping the button off them.

His eyes trailed back up to your face before he put his palm innocently over your heart, pushing you down onto your back again.

"Just lean back and relax, my sweet thing. You just stay there and look pretty while I take care of you. Make you feel good."

You watched him from your lying position as he moved to stand by the foot of the bed, dropping his jeans to the floor after wiping his hands off on them before he turned back to you. His stare didn't seem all that possessive and dark anymore like it had been during foreplay.

He was looking at you with a type of sincerity that brought warmth to your soul.

You were under a spell, unable to disengage from his stare, even when he climbed back onto the bed, and spread your legs apart again. He briefly looked away from you to position his cock properly, and you watched the concentration on his face morph into mild enjoyment as he circled the head around your pussy teasingly.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your legs crossed around his waist, and he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Those perfect pink lips of his parted, and he whispered to you with one more squeeze to your thigh, "are you ready?"

Your hands reached out for him, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck as you nodded your head. "I need you, Paul, Please."

"Don't worry, my Love. I'll give you exactly what you need."

And with an unhurried push of his hips, he was inside of you, and the most beautiful sound escaped his lips, in limbo between a moan and a whine, and the look on his face was blissful, eyes shut and mouth hanging open at the feeling of you.

You let out a deep, concentrated, pleasing sigh. It hadn't been forever since you last had sex, but it was definitely long enough. The stretch from his member filled you up in the greatest way; and Paul took it real slow for you.

"Fuck, you're so wet. So tight," he mumbled under his breath, exhaling deeply with every roll of his hips. His eyes drifted back open to watch your face, lowering his brow and whispering to you, "my Love, you promise to tell me if I'm ever hurting you?"

Your face flushed red at his words, and you nodded a little.

"Yes, Paulie. Absolutely." Your quiet response was uttered though little moans, a hint of emotion laced in your voice.

You were partial to that specific nickname. You felt you maybe liked it too much, but there was no denying that responding to it felt so right, and Paul, you felt, seemed to think regarding you that way was okay, as well. It made you feel like you were actually wanted, and you'd be lying if you didn't say you hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

Paul leaned down, arms on either side of your head as he kissed your lips, and you kissed back, fingers unclasping so you could once again run your nails along his scalp and through his hair. He groaned at the attention, rocking a little deeper now, and you pulled away from the kiss to whine at Paul's actions.

You arched your back as his movements sped up, and you could hear his breaths quickening as he settled on a steady pace. One of his hands slid in under your back to hold you closer, and he dropped his head into the cook of your neck.

He started placing kisses along the side of your throat, and then on your collarbone. "You have no idea... fuck... how long I've waited for you." He mumbled those words against your skin, and your conscience shot right awake from its besotted trance as you hyper-focussed on his words.

"I have been dreaming about this for so many nights... for so many years..."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sure, you'd known Paul for a while, but never in your life did you think he was even remotely attracted, to you let alone actively fantasizing about the very moment you were both experiencing.

Your chest burned, intensely aware that as soon as this night was over, this feeling of togetherness, intimacy, and affection was going to die out like a candle flame, and you were going to be alone all over again. Your eyes were glassy with tears as you tried to draw Paul closer, opting to remove your fingers from his hair to wrap your arms around his body.

You began to push your hips back against Paul's, recieving a pleased hum from him. Your hands rubbed tenderly over the hot skin on his back as he continued to pour his heart out to you, breaking yours more with every word that left his mouth.

"My sweet Love; to think I've wanted you for so long... and now I have you. I'm the luckiest fucking guy in the world."

"Paul," you whimpered, head resting up against his shoulder as tears streamed down your cheeks from your eyes. You weren't entirely sure what came over you, but before you could even think, you were whispering to him, "please don't leave me."

"Never. My Love, I'll always be right here." His response was so effortless, and quick, and your ears seemed to be ringing again. He put his other hand at the back of your head, pulling you in closer as your bodies continued to rock together.

You could feel another orgasm nearing, and Paul must have known from the sounds coming from your mouth. He pulled his arm out from under your back to reach between the both of you, thumb toying with your clit as you cried out again, hips jerking harder and quicker against him, his own pace stuttering as he could feel the walls of your heat contracting against him.

"I-- I'm gonna..." you choked, and Paul rubbed between your legs even faster.

"Come undone, my Love," he encouraged weakly as he tried his best to keep going for you. You dropped your head back against the pillows and you cried out as another orgasm rushed you, more tears falling down your cheeks, as you returned to that feeling of ecstasy you were in only minutes before.

Paul leaned up, forehead and chest shining with sweat as he continued to pound into you, long hair matted against his skin as his pace fell apart, shuttering as he pulled out of you and came all over your stomach.

His head fell back, eyes falling shut as he called out your name, cum leaking out of him and all over you, but you were far from caring. His breaths were heavy as he gasped for air, and after a moment of allowing the both of you to come down from the high, he slumped back onto his arms, head rolling to the side so he could open his eyes and look at the mess he made of you.

"Oh, Love, I'm sorry about all that. Let me just..." Paul took another deep breath before rolling himself off the bed, wandering on wobbly legs towards the connected bathroom. You could hear the faucet running for a moment as you stared directly up at the ceiling, beginning to wake your body up with a little wiggle your toes.

That was, without any doubt, the best sex you'd had in your life. And as Paul returned to you, two damp cloths in-hand, you figured the intimacy was over; that you'd clean yourself up and be kicked out of the room.

But when he took a seat at the foot of the bed again, and he reached up to your tummy to wipe his ejaculation off your skin, you found yourself falling into another daze.

The cloth was warm, and Paul took his time sliding it over you to clean you up, not a single word coming from his mouth. When he felt he cleaned your stomach well enough, he reached for the other cloth, wiping the sweat gingerly off your neck, and chest.

Every move was calculated, and even when he moved to wipe up the mess between your legs, he was careful of how sensitive you were, free hand caressing your thigh while he remained largely focused on cleaning you up.

You felt the assault of tears burning your eyes again as you watched Paul tend to you, and when he looked up to your face and realized your expression, his own fell to one of worry.

"... you okay?"

You nodded your head weakly, that was until you felt him squeeze your leg again. Your bottom lip began to tremble, and your hands came up to your face as you sobbed into your palms.

"Hey, hey, Darling, what's the matter?"

Paul even sounded worried, climbing up the mattress to be closer to you. You curled up into a little ball on your side, and Paul put his hand on your arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort you.

"I... I..." you didn't want to tell Paul necessarily what you were feeling, because then that would have meant telling him you enjoyed him a little too much. More than you thought was maybe appropriate.

"Please talk to me, tell me what I can do to make this all better," he begged, and you took a while to respond to him.

"Hold me," you whimpered, and Paul, without another second passing, swept you up in his arms, cradling you as you sat in his naked lap. His right arm circled your back as his left coaxed your head onto his shoulder before he began stroking your hair.

Your arms lazily circled around him as you cried into his shoulder, and Paul pressed his lips into a line, tears of his own threatening to fall.

"Did hurt you? Did I do something wrong, Love?"

"Please don't think that," you choked back. "You did everything so right. And that's the problem."

Paul's eyebrows, which were knit together in frustration and confusion, began to relax at the realization of your words. You both knew you were going to have to elaborate a little more at one point, but Paul didn't pry. He just continued to stroke your hair and rock you, soothing you of your negative emotions.

You pulled your head away from the crook of his neck eventually, and you looked Paul in his sweet, doe eyes. "You're so kind. Too kind," you sniffled. "Half of me wants to actually listen to the words you said, but it hurts too much. After what he did to me..."

You thought back to your ex for a moment. That slimy, cheating bastard.

"I can't even pretend to believe someone would love me like that again, because he stripped me of all that trust."

Paul seemed a little hurt at your words, taking a moment to decide what he was going to say next.

"... You don't have to believe it now, but I know everything I said to you was the truth."

You felt your bottom lip quiver again, and he pulled his hand from the back of your head to cup your face.

"Everything. Even when you asked me not to leave. I can't be certain you were being serious about that, but I want you to know that I'm serious. I won't leave you if you don't want me to."

You couldn't help but tilt your head into his touch as your red eyes drifted closed. He placed a kiss on your temple, mumbling into your skin, "please believe me when I say I did have some doubts about all of this. But having you here, in my arms right now... I have never felt so sure about anything in my life. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again."

"But how can I be so sure?" Your question was barely above a whisper, and Paul held you tighter, and closer.

"You've occupied a special place in my heart for a long while, now. If anything were to try and hurt you, and I'm there to protect you, I'd be doing everything in my power to keep you safe."

You could feel Paul turn your head towards him, and you opened your eyes.

"I know our last relationships didn't end well. I know we're still hurting from the past... But you make me so happy. Like I have something worth living for, and can think about the future without wanting to look back at the pain I'm wanting to desperately leave behind."

You had more emotions stirring in your heart again, but they were ones that made you feel fuzzy inside.

"... Would it be so wrong of me to tell you I feel the same way about you?" You asked him carefully. You couldn't believe how poetic he could be just talking to you. He had all the right words to say at any given time.

"Absolutely not," he replied easily, one of the corners of his mouth twitching at the relief that the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

You reached up to cup his face, thumb drifting against his beard as he leaned in to kiss your mouth. And you let him. It wasn't to initiate anything, only to project affection unto you.

He pulled away after a moment, breathing a quiet "Please, Darling, stay with me, tonight."

You smiled sadly at his request, but you shook your head a little. "What about Rich? He's gonna find out everything." That was another nail in the coffin, Paul decided, he needed to pry out.

"Well, he's just going to have to deal with the fact that I need you," he responded matter-of-factly, and your heart ached at that.

"I don't think you have any idea just how long I've restrained myself from talking to you, let alone flirt or try anything with you. I used to care so much about what Ringo thought, but all that matters now is you."

Paul removed his hand from your cheek to caress yours holding his own face. He pulled your hand off so he could kiss your fingertips, smiling just a little to try and encourage one on your own face.

"It's just us now. No one else. Okay, my Love?"

All you could seem to do was nod your head, but that appeared to be enough for him. He gave you one more peck and a little hand squeeze before sighing. "Let's splash some water on your face and get us ready for bed, hm? I don't know about you, but the last ten minutes have been an absolute workout for me."

You blushed a little when Paul sent a wink your way, but you shifted off his lap and stood up, as did he. He took your hand in his again and guided you to the bathroom, and as you wet your face with the water under the faucet, he tossed the damp face cloths in the laundry bin next to the toilet.

His attention was back on you, and he tucked your hair back behind your ear, placing a kiss under your earlobe. You smiled a little at the gesture as you watched him through the mirror, turning the faucet off and dabbing your face dry with the towel on the counter. Paul settled another kiss at the crook of your neck, and then one on your shoulder.

"You feel any better?" He asked lowly, his words vibrating against your skin. You held back a chuckle by biting your bottom lip, setting the towel back down next to the sink.

"A little, yeah."

"As long as the answer isn't no, I can live with that." He smiled at your reflection, arms wrapping around your body as he kissed your shoulder one more time. You placed your hands overtop his, which were planted on your hips.

"C'mon, now," he whispered, one of his hands unraveling rom your body to drift to the small of your back and leading you back out into the bedroom. He left you briefly to pop the window open a little, and you climbed in under the covers, him following suit just a few seconds after.

You rolled to your side to look at Paul, and he did the same, propping up on his elbow and dropping his head in his hand, other arm reaching out so he could cup your face again. He looked so happy, having you so close to him. It was such a contrast to how you found him earlier that night, and the difference made you feel rather glad you were still awake at such a late hour.

"Thank you for everything tonight," he offered gently. "The drinks we shared, the dancing, the intimacy, for letting me confess everything to you, for staying... thank you for being you."

"Aww, why can't I say anything that romantic and poetic to you?" You whined a little, and Paul laughed gently, his hand drifting down to squeeze your arm lovingly.

"Y'know, there will be so much time in the future for you to woo me."

"If I can learn to be as quick on my feet as you, perhaps," you argued back playfully, shifting forward a little so you could curl up into Paul's chest. His hand dropped to your spine so he could pull you in a little closer, thumb rubbing gently against your skin.

"You'll get there, Lovely. Sweet dreams." You hummed a little as your eyes fell shut, the feeling of Paul's thumb caressing you, and the sound of the trees rustling in the wind outside, as well as the rise and fall of Paul's chest had you lulling to sleep in no time. He, on the other hand, remained awake for a long while, holding you close to him as if it were his only purpose in life.

He wasn't worried about anything anymore; not even about whether Ringo would find out about the both of you before either of you planned... Despite leaving the evidence of two alcohol glasses still sitting pretty on the coffee table in the den for him to find first thing that next morning.

Paul eventually fell asleep as well, arms enveloping you from the cool night air seeping in from the window leading outside. His heart was feeling fuller than it ever had before, and it was all because of you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations, I haven't written anything NSFW in YEARS, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Don't forget to like and comment, I love reading the comments on these :')

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[fantasyescapes17]

Candle (Part 1)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Genre: Yoon Jeonghan x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Wonwoo's sister so your last name is Jeon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.8k+

Part 2 Part 3

Series Masterlist [I would recommend reading the first story in this series, Patience, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

“It is not that I do not wish to marry,” you explained to the maid that was dealing with your hair. The fine silver comb tugged painfully on your scalp, but you had learned to ignore it through continued practice. “I do like the thought of being the lady of my own estate, and having children and a husband who loves me.” 

The maid hummed as she dragged the comb through your hair. “Of course, miss.” 

“But why must all the eligible bachelors of the ton be so dreadfully boring? Every conversation feels the same. If you’ve spoken to one of them, you may as well have spoken to them all,” you complained. “They constantly talk about the same subjects and offer the same compliments.” 

“What would you like them to say instead, miss?” the maid asked lightly. 

“Well, anything that I have not already heard a hundred times before!” you exclaimed as the maid fixed the last pin in your hair and released you. You turned to appraise yourself in the mirror carefully before pouting at your maid. “Daisy, I am not foolish enough to entertain expectations of true love. But is it too much to ask for a husband who will not drive me mad out of boredom? A husband for whom at least a small candle lights up in my heart- never mind a wild and burning flame?” 

Daisy smiled. “You will be late, miss. Your family is waiting downstairs.” 

“But you offer me no reassurances,” you noted with a frown. 

“Do not worry yourself too much, miss. There are plenty of men in London this season that you are  yet to meet. I am certain one of them will light your heart’s candle.” 

You thanked her and then stood up to appraise yourself in the mirror. You had chosen one of your prettiest gowns for the first ball of the season and were pleased with the way the soft pastel colours accentuated your figure and skin. You were not the belle of the ball- you would leave titles like that to more perfect women than you- but you were certainly striking enough to never be left wanting for a dance partner or company. 

God. All this effort to spend your evening listening to men offer you recycled compliments or boast about their fortunes. 

"So her highness finally arrives. I thought perhaps you were waiting for the ball to end," your brother Wonwoo remarked as you walked down to the foyer of your large London home. 

You paid him little mind. Wonwoo was not truly angry about the delay. He had no great love for social engagements or balls and suffered through them in the same way you did, albeit with fewer complaints. 

"Beauty takes time," you replied simply.

"As does the journey to the Hessington's manor. Mother and Father are waiting for us outside."

"It would not be fashionable to arrive too early," you protested. 

Wonwoo simply offered you his arm in silence and you joined your brother in stepping out of your large home and climbing into the lavish carriage that waited on the street outside. Your parents were already seated and your mother smiled when she saw you. 

"Oh darling! You look quite lovely in that dress," she told you happily as the carriage slowly began to take your family to your destination. "I should not be surprised if your  father has a queue of men outside his door to offer for your hand this season."

You smiled. "Thank you, mother. I am sure Father knows best."

Your father raised an eyebrow. He appeared bored. "I know nothing. You are perfectly capable of choosing your own husband. Unless you wish to marry a stable boy, you shall hear no sound from me."

Your mother swatted his arm. "Dearest! How can you say such a thing! It is of utmost importance that our dear daughter is married well and happy- and you must do everything you can to ensure this!"

Mr. Jeon chuckled. "I believe these matters require far more womanly expertise than I possess."

Your mother disregarded him and turned back to you. "Now darling, remember. We are in no hurry. This is only your first season and time and money are on our side. Unlike some of the other foolish mothers of the ton, I know that marrying well is far more important than marrying quickly."

You smiled. "Yes, mother."

"There is no need to accept any offers immediately. Do not court anyone straight away. Wait and watch and analyse. You deserve the very best."

You bit your lip and nodded. You had to admit that your mother's confidence in you made you feel better about your prospects. She was right. There was plenty of time. You were not in any rush and you would wait patiently until the right man for you appeared. 

Hopefully he would. 

"As for you, Wonwoo-" your mother continued, turning to your brother who had been staring out of the window absently. "Although your sister's marriage prospects occupy more of my time and attention than yours, it would be helpful if you at least indulged in a few dances and did not offend all the young ladies that crossed your path by ignoring them or pretending to be absorbed in a book."

Wonwoo flushed. He had been known to hide behind a book in order to avoid the attention of some of the more determined young ladies. Women frequently left your brother's company feeling snubbed. 

"Yes, mother," he replied with a sigh. 

"I want to see you up on the dance floor for at least two dances," she pressed. 

"One," Wonwoo pushed back. 

"Two, this is not a discussion."

Wonwoo decided against arguing with his mother and turned his attention back to the window of the carriage as it clattered noisily along the path to the ball. You chuckled- you could not wait to meet a woman who could put a genuine smile on Jeon Wonwoo's face. A difficult task indeed, but certainly not impossible. 

The carriage stopped once your family arrived at the Hessington's ball. It was an incredibly grand affair. Being the first ball of the season, it would set the standard for all social events during the upcoming months. You could tell that this would be a glamorous season indeed. 

You almost felt nervous. 

"Isn't that your friend?" Wonwoo mumbled to you as your family entered the enormous bustling ballroom full of immaculately dressed men and women. 

"Miss Jeon!" 

You laughed in delight as a young woman in a bright purple dress came over to you and embraced you warmly. It had been many months since you had seen your dear friend Ella Williams.  You wrote to her often but you were no great writer, and letters were not nearly enough to say all that you wished to share. 

“Miss Williams! Oh, I am so delighted to see you here! How have you been?” you demanded of your friend. 

Ella smiled. “I have been wonderful, as always. It is a pleasure to see you as well, Mr. Jeon!” Ella greeted your brother with a bright smile and a polite curtsey. Wonwoo acknowledged her with a small tilt of his head. Ella was no stranger to your brother’s quiet and unenthusiastic manner- so she merely giggled at him and did not take offence. 

“He is upset because he is required to dance twice tonight,” you explained to Ella. “Wonwoo, you might as well ask Ella to dance with you so that half of your promise to mother is fulfilled. Then you need only find one more partner over the course of the evening.” 

Ella batted her eyelashes at your brother. “I would not object to a dance with Mr. Jeon.” 

You waited patiently while Wonwoo signed Ella’s dance card and then wordlessly disappeared further into the room in order to speak to some of his acquaintances. Ella beamed and turned back to you. 

“Well. I shall be the target of much envy when I stand up for a dance with the elusive Mr. Jeon. Oh! But I have so much to tell you, my friend, come with me to the refreshments table and I will show you what I have prepared for us!” 

You allowed Ella to take your arm and pull you towards the refreshments. You both found seats on a bench and she pulled a small black diary out of her pocket that she showed you cheerfully. 

“Guess what this is?” she asked eagerly, but did not allow you time to formulate a response. “I spent the entire summer doing research and have prepared elaborate notes on every single marriage-minded bachelor that will be in attendance this season. I believe the usual clumsy method of turning up to as many social events as we can and simpering at random men only to be disappointed once we learn more about them cannot go on. We are clever women. We must employ the scientific method.” 

You giggled at your friend. “The scientific method? To find a husband?” 

“It is almost perfect! And it took me months to compile- I keep adding to it every time I learn more about any of them."

You looked at her book with a laugh. It really was packed full of notes. This was no small feat that Ella had achieved. 

"How does this help us?" you asked, confused. 

Ella sighed. "My dear friend. Every time a man introduces himself or asks you for a dance, you need only look him up in my little book to know everything about him! Well; perhaps not everything, it is still a work in progress but I am constantly adding to it!"

You looked down at her little book curiously. 

"Ella… you may have created something very valuable," you admitted to her slowly. "I am sure many of the young women in the room would love to have a peek at that little book."

Ella beamed. "Yes, but I shall not share it with anyone but you."

"You really are a wonderful friend."

"Of course I am. Now- have you found any dance partners yet for the evening? I am lucky to have started the evening off strong by securing a dance with your brother- it is my turn to find you an equally excellent partner."

You smiled. "I would be very grateful."

But Ella's efforts were not necessary. As you stood, you were approached by your brother and another handsome young man with a very charming smile.  

"I believe the dancing is about to begin," Wonwoo said simply as he offered his arm to Ella. He paused to look at you. "Sister, allow me to introduce you to my friend Mr. Kim Mingyu."

Mr. Kim Mingyu took your gloved hand into his own and pressed his lips to your knuckles in a suave manner. 

"Miss Jeon. I have heard many wonderful things about you; would you do me the honour of joining me for the next dance?" Mingyu asked. 

You smiled. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Kim."

"Excellent. This way."

Mingyu was a very good dancer and an adequate conversationalist. He did offer you some textbook insincere compliments about your dancing skill and your dress, but since he was good friends with your brother, any lulls in the conversation were filled with stories from the time he and Wonwoo spent together at Oxford. There was something very lighthearted about his words and manner. It left you with the impression that Mr. Kim Mingyu did not take anything very seriously-including his own marriage prospects. 

"Thank you very much for the dance, Mr. Kim,” you bowed to him politely as the music came to an end. Mingyu smiled and offered you his arm to lead you away from the dance floor. 

“It was a pleasure, Miss Jeon. May I help you find your next partner?” he offered generously. "I know multiple young men who would be delighted to be introduced to you.” 

"I would be very grateful, Mr. Kim. But I have already promised Miss Ella Williams that she may be the one to find my next partner and I could not bear to  disappoint her."

Mingyu nodded. "Very well. Your brother is probably seeking a corner to hide himself in for the rest of the evening, so if you find yourself requiring a dance partner at any moment please do not hesitate to send for me."

You laughed. "Indeed. I shall summon you as soon as your services become necessary."

Mingyu left you just as Ella came over to join you on your bench.

"Well, well," your friend teased. "Mr. Kim is certainly very handsome. And he appears to be an excellent dancer."

"Will you tell me what you have written about him in your little book?" you asked. 

Ella withdrew the book from the folds of her skirts and took a moment to flip the pages. "Let us see here…. K for Kim… Mingyu…. ah! Here he is! 

"Goodness, the page is full!" you laughed as you saw the page crammed to the brim with notes. There was barely any space left. "Is that a list of women he is rumoured to  be courting? Heavens. You shall need to prepare a summary for this man."

"I have one," she replied, her fingers pointing to two underlined words on the top right corner. Notorious rake. 

You both exchanged looks and laughed. 

"That sounds about right," you giggled before taking her arm. "Now hurry! You promised to find me another dance partner! If we sit on the bench for too long then we might be approached by someone particularly odious."

"Of course!" 

Ella grabbed your arm and guided you across the room to a group of men who stood conversing near the balcony. One of them turned and smiled when he saw Ella. 

"Ella! I did not know you would be here tonight," he greeted her fondly. He had gentle eyes and a soft smile that put you instantly at ease. 

"How could I miss the first ball of the season?" Ella asked. "Joshua, you must allow me to introduce you to my dear friend Miss Jeon. I insist that you dance the next dance with her, for she is so much in demand that you may not have another chance all season! Miss Jeon, this is my cousin Viscount Joshua Hong."

Joshua greeted you warmly. Unlike Mingyu, he made no excessively charming moves to kiss your hand but his impeccable manners put you at ease. 

"Of course. It would be an honour to dance with Miss Jeon," he promised you. "But first allow me to make introductions of my own. I am accompanied by my dear friends Mr. Choi Seungcheol and Mr. Yoon Jeonghan."

You curtsied politely to the two men. Mr. Choi was handsome, certainly, but you were struck immediately by how unnaturally perfect Mr. Yoon Jeonghan was. His features were sharp, angular, and he looked like a marble statue sculpted by a skilled artist. Jeonghan had an almost ethereal beauty to him. 

And he turned immediately to your friend. 

"Miss Williams, may I request your hand for the next dance, if you have not already promised it to another?" Jeonghan asked, as he offered her his hand. 

Ella took it without hesitation. "Of course!"

It was no punishment to dance with Viscount Joshua Hong. The man was possibly the most eligible bachelor in the room considering his title, vast fortune and gentlemanly reputation so Ella had done you a great favour. Joshua made light and pleasant conversation as you danced. He was not entirely boring, but also failed to be particularly interesting. You found yourself casting glances across the room at Ella's dance partner. 

When your dance with Joshua came to an end, you approached Ella and Jeonghan with the faint hope that you might be chosen as Mr. Yoon Jeonghan's next partner- only to find that the man in question had already left the area. 

"What happened to Mr. Yoon?" you asked your friend casually. 

"He apologised and had to leave early. Something about his sister- perhaps you know her? Miss Yoon? Fairly pretty woman who is rather well-known for strangely not receiving any offers of marriage since the last many seasons?"

It sounded familiar. "Was he a good dancer?"

"Excellent- but I was terribly nervous throughout the dance, after all, you know what everyone says about him!" Ella said with a shaky laugh. 

You did not know. "What does everyone say about him-"

Your question was cut off by the appearance of your mother, who took your arm with a bright smile. “My dear! I can see that you have been quite successful with your dance partners tonight. Not only Mr Kim Mingyu but Viscount Hong as well! Everyone is quite taken with you.” 

You smiled at your mother. “Thank you, mother-” 

“Come along now. I have many others to introduce you to, we should take advantage of this momentum. You should come as well, Ella. A certain Mr. Lee has been asking about you and you will need someone to make the necessary introductions!” 

Ella smiled and took your hand as the two of you followed your mother.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

The Hessington’s ball was, in your mother’s expert opinion, a grand success. You had danced almost every dance with an eligible young man and the general consensus among the ton was that you were a delightful young woman who would likely receive her fair share of attention and gentleman callers. 

It was difficult to not want to bask in all the attention. 

“Mother! May I go to the assembly rooms with Ella and Mrs. Williams this evening? I believe we have no other engagements,” you reminded her eagerly as she attended to her knitting in the drawing room. Your mother looked up at you. 

“Will Mrs. Williams chaperone?” 

“Of course.” 

Upon receiving her permission you hurried upstairs to dress for an evening at the assembly rooms. You had heard from Ella that Viscount Hong would be in attendance. While you had no specific interest in Joshua  himself, you could not deny that the Viscount was well-connected and always ready and able to make introductions with other eligible young men. 

Daisy helped you into a pretty dress. Since an evening at the assembly rooms was not nearly as glamorous as a ball, you kept your attire simple but could not resist finishing off your look with a string of pearls around your neck. 

“You look lovely, miss,” Daisy complimented you kindly. “The pearls suit you very well.” 

You smiled. “Thank you, Daisy.” 

The Williams’ carriage arrived promptly to pick you up, and you travelled to the assembly rooms with Ella and her mother. You were delighted when Mrs. Williams promptly sat down at one of the many card tables and announced her intention to play whist all evening. The older woman appeared to have no plans of following you or Ella about the room, or being an overbearing chaperone. 

"I have decided to cast my net upon Mr. Xu Minghao tonight," Ella whispered to you, gesturing to a handsome young man in the corner of the room. "I shall ask Joshua to introduce me. Would you like to come?"

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "I might play some cards first. I have been looking forward to it for a while. Do you think it would be impolite for me to sit down at any of these tables?"

"I see Mrs. Patty there. She will surely welcome you at her card table; although I would be careful. I hear her gambling habit can be… excessive. And she gossips even more than she gambles."

You giggled. "I shall be fine with Mrs. Patty. She likes me. Go on and demonstrate your charms to Mr. Xu."

You were welcomed warmly at the card tables by Mrs. Patty and the other ladies, all of whom complimented your success at the Hessington's ball the previous evening while dealing you into their game. You were not a very experienced card player, but it did not signify. The bets were small at the ladies’ table. On the other hand, the table of gentlemen across from you were clearly playing for much higher stakes. 

You had a clear view of the men's card table. A few familiar faces were seated there- including Mr. Kim  Mingyu and Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. The occupant that was of particular interest to you, however, was Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. Jeonghan had leaned back in his seat in a relaxed and careless manner, a handsome smirk on his face as he observed his cards. 

Really, he was unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to focus on your cards when a man as perfect as Yoon Jeonghan sat directly in your line of view? It was hardly surprising that you lost the first round of the game with the ladies. 

Jeonghan looked up suddenly and his intense gaze met yours. You were a little flustered at having been caught staring, but the corner of his lips curved up in a hint of a smile. Jeonghan acknowledged you with a simple tilt of his head. You forced a polite smile back and quickly turned away. 

When you dared to lift your eyes in his direction once more, he had already turned his attention away from you. 

“Really Mr. Yoon? Will you continue to win until you bleed us all dry?” you heard Mr. Kim Mingyu demand from the other table. The other men nodded in agreement; it appeared that Mr. Yoon had won almost every hand this evening. 

“You are bleeding yourself dry, Mr. Kim. Perhaps you may wish to study the rules of the game before you hand your money to me?” Jeonghan suggested lightly. 

“If I play another round with you I shall be in danger of losing my estate.” 

There appeared to be a general consensus among the men at table that they had lost enough money to Mr. Yoon for one evening. You watched with interest as they all left the table in search of refreshments and other entertainment. Mr. Yoon lingered at the table a few moments longer to collect his belongings.

It was a rare opening- you waited until your current round ended and took the chance to excuse yourself from the ladies table. 

“Pardon me, Mrs. Patty but I think I have had my fill of cards. I will take your leave now,” you said to the older woman who dismissed you easily. 

You took a deep breath. Perhaps it was an… audacious move (if not an entirely improper one) for you to approach Mr. Yoon while there was nobody else in your company. But you were quite determined to learn more about this man with the angelic features and confident gaze. You could not simply wait until Jeonghan decided to take note of you- you would bring the conversation to him. 

“Mr. Yoon,” you greeted him politely. 

Jeonghan turned to you with mild surprise. This was a crowded room, yes, but it was still bold of you to approach him without a female chaperone.  

Although to be fair, Yoon Jeonghan had never been one to put too fine a point on the rules of propriety.

“Miss Jeon, if I am not mistaken,” he greeted calmly. He gave no indication that he found you approaching him to be improper. “We were introduced at the Hessington’s ball last evening. I heard from my stepmother that you had excellent success and danced every single dance.” 

“I do not know if I was particularly successful at anything; to dance every dance at a ball is not unheard of. But to win almost every hand of cards while playing a game of chance… that is what I would consider success,” you teased him.

It was a bold attempt at flirtation- you could only wait and see what move Jeonghan would make. 

Jeonghan folded his arms across his chest. You could tell that he was biting back a smile. “Perhaps my opponents were simply too drunk to remember the rules of the game,” he suggested.  

“Or perhaps you have devised a way to eliminate the influence of chance on the game’s outcome entirely.” 

Jeonghan could not resist a chuckle. “Miss Jeon. I must protest this line of questioning. It seems to be in danger of impinging upon my honour as a gentleman. I hope you don’t mean to accuse me of cheating at cards?”

“Res ipsa loquitor, as they say in Latin, or- the thing speaks for itself,” you continued to tease him. “Do you deny it?” 

“I shall not deny it. Instead, I shall generously grant you the opportunity to withdraw this dangerous allegation you have chosen to make,” he continued, “for I am confident that you possess no evidence to support your claim. Please- have a seat. It would not do for you to remain standing while we debate my alleged crimes.” 

You allowed Jeonghan to pull out a chair for you and he expertly moved behind you to push it back in before taking his own seat. You folded your hands in your lap and smiled at him. You were enjoying this conversation. 

“Your words are clever Mr. Yoon, but they do not cry innocence,” you insisted. 

“I am not claiming to be innocent.” 

“Then you admit you are guilty?” 

“I shall not answer your allegation either way,” Jeonghan replied with a chuckle. “But I am concerned for the impact your allegations shall have on your honour when you find yourself unable to justify them with sufficient evidence.” 

You laughed. “So you are greatly concerned for my honour, are you, Mr. Yoon?” 

“I would be concerned for the honour of any young lady in your position.” 

“Then how do you suggest we resolve this? For I find it impossible to believe that you should have been able to win so many rounds of a game of chance without having found some manner of tilting the scales of luck in your favour,” you insisted. 

Jeonghan leaned closer to you suddenly. His dark eyes boldly met yours and your senses were instantly overwhelmed by him. His clean scent, the sound of his soft breathing and his handsome face hovering a few inches from your own. Jeonghan’s voice (suddenly low) sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. 

“If you do not withdraw your allegation,” he whispered. “I shall have no choice but to demand satisfaction.” 

Oh. This man was dangerous. 

He pulled back and you felt a rush of adrenaline. Noone had ever flirted with you quite like this before- and it was, clearly and undoubtedly a delightfully dangerous flirtation, for what man would innocently lean so close and whisper such words in the presence of a lady unless he meant to be unequivocal about his nefarious intention? 

It appeared you had walked into the lion’s den of your own free will. 

“Satisfaction?” you asked him, trying not to reveal how flustered you were.  “I hope you do not intend to challenge a lady to a duel, Mr. Yoon.” 

“A duel? No, not at all. I can think of better ways for you to restore my honour.” 

“I have no intention of restoring your honour,” you replied boldly. 

“Perhaps I shall be able to persuade you otherwise. Tell me Miss Yoon- have you recently lost anything? Perhaps a valuable item that you carry upon your person?” Jeonghan asked in a knowing tone. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You had not carried much with you and you quickly checked that you still possessed your handkerchief and reticule. As you turned your head, however, you realised that there was a strange lightness around your neck. 

Your hand flew up to your bare neck. 

“My pearls!” 

Jeonghan smirked. His arm moved subtly across the table and you caught a glimpse of something white and shiny clasped in his hand just before he tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat. You stared at him in shock and disbelief. 

“Mr. Yoon- have you just stolen my pearls?” you demanded in a hushed tone. 

Jeonghan looked pleased with himself. 

“Not to worry, my lady. I have every intention of returning them to you tomorrow, at the Hongs’ ball- where you shall do me the honour of dancing the final dance of the evening with me. An act which will, I believe, be adequate recompense for the baseless accusations you have brought upon my honour.” 

You looked up at him with a smile.

So it was to be a game.  

“You don’t play fair, Mr. Yoon,” you remarked. 

“Remind me to further discuss the merits of fairness during our dance at tomorrow’s ball,” Jeonghan suggested as he stood from his seat and reached for your hand. He pressed his lips against your knuckles- softly, tantalisingly, and perhaps lingering for half a second longer than appropriate before giving you a roguish smile. “Have a pleasant evening, Miss Jeon.” 

You watched as he walked away to join his companions at the refreshment tables. Your heartbeat thumped with excitement while the adrenaline from your unbelievably shocking encounter with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan slowly ebbed. 

Well, you thought to yourself. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had certainly lit your heart’s candle. 

Indeed, he seemed quite in danger of tipping it over and setting the entire bloody place on fire.

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

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed so much love for my first fic Patience, and also thank you for reading Candle! Jeonghan was such a crucial character in Patience that it was always my intention to write a companion fic for him.

I should be able to upload the next part of Candle in a few days, if all goes well. I'm also in the process of plotting for Wonwoo, Mingyu and Hoshi, in no particular order.

Any feedback is welcome! I'm not sensitive lol.

[cuubism]

Made in an Instant (2/5)

part 3 of Wish. Chapter 2: Dream's eldritch baby shower

--

Later on, Lucienne and Matthew put together a baby shower for Dream in the Dreaming. It’s very sweet. Hob invites Death, though by the time he does she seems to already know, he’s not sure how. Death brings Desire, Despair, and Delirium along with her, which Hob is a bit dubious about, but he can’t exactly tell Death what to do. Even Dream’s remade version of the Corinthian shows up, which Hob is even more dubious about.

They all meet in Fiddler’s Green, ostensibly to surprise Dream, though Hob tips him off beforehand because Dream doesn’t actually like being surprised very much. “Just pretend you weren’t expecting it,” Hob tells him. When they arrive, Dream doesn’t do a very good job of pretending, though he does seem touched. Lucienne catches Hob’s eye and gives him a little smile, and he realizes she was probably counting on him to do just that.

They set up on the grass under one of Fiddler’s Green’s large shade trees. For some unfathomable reason, the Corinthian is the one who brings cake. Hob doesn’t know who allowed him to be in charge of that.

Corinthian sets the cake on a picnic blanket. It looks extremely normal, which is only more unnerving.

“That doesn’t have eyes in it, does it?” Matthew asks skeptically from where he’s perched on Hob’s shoulder—presumably positioned there to keep Hob between himself and the Corinthian. Thanks for that, buddy.

“So what if it does?” says Corinthian. “It’s important for the baby to develop proper bloodlust.”

Seemingly unperturbed, Dream takes a slice and starts eating it with a tiny fork. Under the vanilla frosting, the cake is pure red. Hob hopes it’s just red velvet.

He’s too unnerved to eat any of it himself.

Despite the possibly cannibalistic cake, Hob is briefly hopeful that it might be a nice event. No one’s tried to kill each other in the first five minutes, so that’s a plus. Maybe things will actually be normal.

Then Desire sits down in the circle.

“Why are you here,” Dream says with open hostility, and Hob mentally braces himself.

Desire just grins at Dream toothily. “She takes after me,” they declare. “I can tell already. We may be enemies, dear brother, but I hold nothing but fondness for my little nibling. I will be Auntie and you cannot stop me.”

“Auntie?” repeats Dream with derision, but Desire does not seem put off.

“Indeed. I do believe we will be the best of friends.”

“Your influence can only be negative,” says Dream.

Desire waves a hand. “We all need negative influences in our lives. And you speak as if your influence will be any better.”

Dream’s mouth pops open in outrage, but Desire thrusts a gift into his hands. Not only did they bring a gift, Hob reflects, but it’s even wrapped. Babies make people so weird.

Dream looks at them suspiciously, then at the gift with even more suspicion, but carefully unpicks the wrapping.

Inside is a knitted baby blanket in the shape of a large red heart.

Dream stares at it while Desire grins at him. “For sweet dreams,” they say.

Hob thinks it’s meant to be at least somewhat mocking but it’s… kind of sweet, too? In Desire’s twisted way.

“Do not taunt me,” Dream says at last, glaring at Desire, and they roll their eyes.

“Can’t you accept one sincere expression of love?”

“Are you capable of sincerity?”

“Enough,” Death cuts in, and they both quiet. “I didn’t bring you to cause trouble,” she says to Desire.

“I’m not!”

Dream still looks suspicious, but when he looks down at the blanket in his hands again, Hob sees something soft flit briefly across his face. “If you are sincere,” he says, “then I thank you.”

Desire settles back, satisfied. Somehow, Hob actually believes that they genuinely want to be their child’s Auntie. He doesn’t know how that will turn out, though.

Dream sets the blanket in his lap. “Perhaps you should attend your own grandchildren before worrying about mine.”

Desire waves a hand. “Oh, we’re thick as thieves, don’t you worry. I gave Rose dating advice just the other day!”

Dream looks alarmed by that, as does Death, but before either of them can react, Delirium, who’s been bouncing in her seat, jumps forward and hands Dream her gift. “Open it! Open it open it!”

Her gift is not so much wrapped as it is… an immaterial swirling ball of sparkles. Dream takes it, and it hovers in his hands, then explodes in a shower of light.

Inside is a mobile hung with glittery fish, to put above the crib. Only it’s not really a mobile, because the fish aren’t actually attached to any wires. They just hover in the air, swimming around each other in mesmerizing circular patterns. Hob has to admit that even to his adult eyes, it’s… pretty hypnotizing. Almost trance-inducing.

“I made it!” Delirium says.

Unlike with Desire, Dream has no cutting words for Delirium. “Thank you, little sister,” he says solemnly. He sets it before him, and the fish dart up to spiral around his head, then return to their meditative spin. “You must come to visit, and set it above her crib.”

Delirium claps her hands in delight. “Babies have such fun imaginations!” she says. “Even I can feel them.” She throws her arms around Dream in a bear hug. He tolerates it in good humor, but Hob sees his tiny smile over her shoulder.

Everyone else has brought gifts for Dream too. He seems nervous about it, not being used to receiving nice things. Hob urges Lucienne to go next as he knows she’ll have been sensible about it—God only knows what Corinthian’s picked out. Hopefully just the bloody cake.

Lucienne gives Dream a newborn-sized onesie that says future librarian. Dream raises an eyebrow. “Claiming my daughter as your apprentice already?”

She smiles. “More an offer of babysitting.”

Lucienne is one of the few people in Dream’s vicinity that Hob thinks is actually capable of taking care of an infant. Everybody else in the Dreaming… he’s really not so sure.

“I thank you, Lucienne,” Dream says, and clasps her hands with a small, but warm smile.

Then Despair, who’s been keeping to herself so far, passes Dream a small package wrapped in newspaper. Inside is what seems to be a plastic teething toy shaped like her hook-and-ring sigil—though with the sharp hook suitably blunted.

Hob’s immediate first thought is will the baby even have teeth, which is insane and makes him wonder how prepared he actually is for any of this. But before he can ponder it more, Despair says, “When she is hurting, I can ease it.”

Hob’s been a bit leery of letting Despair near the baby to begin with. But from what Dream has said in the past, when she isn’t being pulled into her twin’s schemes Despair can be the kindest of the Endless. Hob is still wary of that form of kindness, especially when it comes to Dream himself. But he thinks perhaps he can see what Dream means.

Matthew gives Dream the book Quantum Physics for Babies, which he seems to have procured from a Waking world bookstore despite there most definitely being a copy in the Dreaming library somewhere. “Listen,” he says, “I gotta give the kid a better start in life than I had. Speaking of which, should we set up a college fund?”

“Hob can afford higher education,” Dream says placidly.

“Great,” Hob complains, “just put all the childcare costs on me, then.”

“S’what you get for knocking up a guy who’s got no money,” Matthew says, then immediately croaks in regret for having said that out loud, hopping several feet away from Dream.

Dream just gives him a look but doesn’t comment. It’s not like Matthew’s wrong, after all.

Fiddler’s Green crafts a flower crown of budding blossoms, and floats it down onto Dream’s head, which makes him smile faintly, touching the soft petals. Corinthian gives him a stuffed toy cat with a baby-sized knife stashed in the belly; apparently, it can be eviscerated endless times and will just repair itself. Hob had been expecting body parts so he can’t complain, really. An indestructible toy might actually come in handy.

Death doesn’t have a physical gift for Dream. Instead she leans in close to his side and whispers something in his ear. When she finishes speaking, Dream is close to tears. And Hob thinks he knows what she’s said.

It’s something he hadn’t even considered. Dream had said the baby wasn’t Endless, but Hob had still been assuming she was like, kind of Endless, some sort of ethereal nonhuman creature. To think he was wrong makes his stomach drop; he nearly grasps onto Dream’s arm for balance before the past few seconds catch up to him and he remembers what Death said. Presumably said. Christ, not even born and the baby’s already giving him a heart attack.

“I thank you, my sister,” Dream says, with more than his usual solemnity, clearly—to Hob’s eyes anyway—blinking those burgeoning tears back. Hob finds his hand and squeezes it, close to tears himself.

“You know I just want you to be happy, Dream,” Death says, cheery despite the heavy topic. Not so heavy for her, though, Hob supposes.

“I do.” Dream almost seems to believe it.

Then, Death hands him a package wrapped in brown paper. Dream reads the label, frowning. Then just stares at it, for at least a full minute.

“Dream?” Hob asks tentatively.

Dream picks open the wrapping on the package and opens the box. He lifts out a child’s art kit, finger paints and crayons and so on. He doesn’t say anything.

Desire looks pale. “Is that from—?”

“Brother!” Delirium squeals, and snatches not the gift itself, but the wrapping from Dream’s hands. She turns it over, lifts it above her head to look at the underside, tilting her head and frowning. “No address.”

“Where did you get this?” Dream demands of Death.

“It was left on the doorstep, so to speak,” Death says, then doesn’t elaborate further.

Hob almost doesn’t want to ask, given their reactions, but he’s dying with curiosity. “Who is it from, then?”

“Our brother,” Dream says. It might as well be a sentence to death for the way he intones it.

Oh. Hob has heard about this. Or at least, he’s heard Dream say there are seven Endless and then only talk about six. He’s heard the space around that name.

“He’s not coming, though,” says Despair, twisting the lank strands of her hair between her fingers.

“I don’t think so,” says Death.

“Why would he do this?” Desire demands. “If you’re gonna stay away then just stay away.”

“But family,” says Delirium. She’s still holding the crumpled gift wrapping in despondent hands.

Desire snorts. “What family?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Death says, defusing the argument. “Whatever they may be, he clearly wants to show he cares. I think we should leave it at that.”

Neither Desire nor Delirium look like they want to ‘leave it at that,’ but Delirium only fidgets nervously and Desire huffs, rolling their eyes, when Death casts them a look, but ultimately stays quiet. Meanwhile Dream has set the art kit down on the grass before him and is studying it, brow pinched. Hob rests a hand on his lower back.

“We will not solve the matter now,” Dream finally says.

The art kit vanishes, whisked away by dream sand to Dream’s chambers, or possibly deposited somewhere in Hob’s flat, it’s hard to be certain. Hob’s unsure whether it will make another appearance. Dream doesn’t seem like he’s quite ready to deal with that yet, and knowing him, their daughter will be as old as Hob before he is.

Gradually, the tension dissipates. Delirium folds the wrapping paper into a flower and tucks it behind her ear. Desire pulls the entire rest of the cake towards themself and starts picking at the frosting with their fingers. Despair joins in soon after.

Lucienne gathers herself and tries to rally them all. “Any other gifts?” she says.

“Hob’s gift! Hob’s gift!” Delirium chants.

Indeed, Hob is the only one left who hasn’t gone. Before he can even speak, Desire smiles slyly. “Hob doesn’t need a gift. He already gave Dream his sperm.”

“Desire!” Dream and Death say simultaneously.

“Wrow,” drawls Corinthian. “Let’s hear more about that.”

“Let’s not.” Lucienne glares at Corinthian. How she survives this on a daily basis, Hob really doesn’t know.

“Let’s not,” he agrees, and Corinthian grins at him with all three of his mouths. Hob shudders, but ignores the nightmare in favor of pulling a gift box from the fabric of the Dreaming.

He’s gotten better at manipulating the Dreaming. He’s pretty sure he even managed to hide his gift from Dream despite it being in the Dreaming the whole time and made of dream stuff.

Indeed, Dream takes the box, eyes widening in surprise as touch reveals its origins. He opens it and takes out a small rectangle, somewhat akin to a mobile phone in appearance. He tilts his head, studying it. Hob taps it, and the screen lights up, showing a camera view of the spare room in Hob’s flat they’d converted into a nursery.

“It’s a baby monitor,” he explains. “Has sound, too.”

Hob knows plenty well that, while he might be able to convince Dream to take some time off after the baby is born, Dream isn’t going to be able to just be with them all the time, even if he wants to. His job is too all-encompassing and too important. And Dream won’t complain about it, because he never does, but he will be sad about it, and he will worry about his baby when he’s not there. Hob just knows it.

Hence, the dream baby monitor that’s connected to the Waking world. Dream can, of course, look in on Hob via dreams if he needs to, or send Matthew to the Waking to be his eyes from afar, but he’s not omniscient, he can’t just know what’s going on in their flat. Except now he can.

“Getting it to connect to the one in my flat was the tricky bit, but I think I’ve managed it,” he says, and Dream turns to look at him.

“You made this?” he says.

Hob scratches the back of his neck. “Well, the Dreaming was inclined to help, I think.”

Lucienne is smiling. Death, too. Dream just keeps staring at him, perplexed, or surprised, Hob’s not sure.

He nudges Dream in the side. “I wanted you to be able to see her.”

“To see her,” Dream echoes. He looks again at the screen of the baby monitor. Touches the dream-glass with a light fingertip. His eyes shine, but he doesn’t cry—he never does in front of his subjects, and rarely does even in front of Hob. Hob rubs his back.

“Thank you,” Dream finally says, quietly, and tucks the baby monitor carefully into the inner infinity of his coat. “You have become quite adept at dreaming, it seems.”

Then he lifts Hob’s hand to his mouth and kisses his palm.

Delirium makes a squealing, cooing sound. So does Corinthian, but mockingly. Hob’s pretty sure he hears Desire gag.

But as usual, he only has eyes for Dream, and cradles his cheek in his palm, thumbing over the corner of his mouth. Dream’s eyes hold promises for later that needn’t be spoken in present company. But above all is the love there, the devotion, the promise that is the two of them. 

“Can we please open the wine now?” Desire begs, and the tension is broken, but Hob catches Dream’s gaze intermittently throughout the rest of the afternoon, and he knows what he sees there, subtle though it is. It’s happiness.

“He loved it,” Hob tells Lucienne later, when the group’s mostly dispersed.

She smiles, quietly pleased. “I know.”

[ksyongi]

pairing: seventeen!hhu x fem!reader

genre: suggestive, fluff, smut, kissy kissy romance

warnings: smut, cursing, kissing, pet names, mentions of other members

wc approx: 1,750

minors DNI

m.list

req: "can you do one where they get very touchy and want to do more than make out but you prank them into playfully not being interested atm and move around a lot and they follow you around bc they know you are faking it and can’t resist it." @kookluvsu

an: decided to play around with this req!!! i took forever to finish this, sorry for the long wait!

seungcheol: you know he wants it by the way he was looking at you since you arrived. the only problem was that he couldn't have you there and then since you were in the practice room with the rest of the members. the way you were using his sweater and how its so big on you made him have to calm himself down. what a great time to trigger his size kink. so he did not waste a second of their break. he pulled you into one of the storage closets, no security cameras in sight. "finally can have you to myself." his eyelids flutter shut, capturing your lips in a kiss. he was so desperate that he was kissing you with such force and neediness. you knew you didn't have much time to even do a quickie before the guys come around to find you. seungcheol's hands were already fiddling with the hem of the sweater you had on before you had to push them off. you raise an eyebrow at him, "let's not do this alright love?" he opens his mouth to interrupt, knowing damn well you want this as much as him. "but-" "no, no but's." his lips form a pout, he swears if he places his fingers on your wet heat, you'd be soaked. fine. he'll play your stupid game. he dragged himself back to the practice room, untucking his shirt to cover the visible tent in his pants. you could see the hidden pain in his face, trying to keep his expression neutral. you giggled to yourself, ignoring the look he shot you. you could say you were surprised when they cut short the practice because the instructor had to run off somewhere..so sudden after seungcheol had a word with him..weird. you honestly wanted to have more fun with seungcheol, but you had to be thanking your lucky stars that he hasn't snapped yet. in honest fact, him possibly bribing the instructor was one of the things that you expected him to do. he was all back to normal now, seeing him wave to his members as you were leaving. so how could you not have expected him to recline his chair back, and go into the back seats of his car, that he re-parked at a hidden corner in the carpark. "come here sweetheart, you asked for it." he mumbled, tearing your brand new lingerie off you. "that was a new one.." you gasp, holding the piece of fabric in your hands, "i can buy you a new one. would you hurry up? i'm getting fucking impatient now."

wonwoo: one arm on the gear stick, the other one on your thigh. he was pulling you close but the middle console was preventing him from doing so. his lips were planted on yours. you could feel his hot breath on yours, the car getting warmer and the windows started to fog up. his tongue swiped on your bottom lip and you instantly granted him access. suddenly your phone started ringing. you could hear a small whine come from him. you pulled away, far enough so he cannot chase your lips anymore. you look at the contact lit up on your screen. you'd usually ignore calls outside of work but just to tease wonwoo, you decided to answer it, especially because its his friend. “hey josh! what’s up?” joshua’s words become a blur when wonwoo’s hand started moving towards your clothed entrance. “josh, could you give me a sec? i gotta do something real quick.” you don’t wait for him to respond before muting your side of the call. “control yourself woo.” “why would i when my girlfriend has dressed up so pretty for me? so pretty for me to ruin?” he whispers. you could feel your undergarments get soaked and your pussy start to throb. you simply just continue the call with joshua after no more words had to be said. wonwoo pressed two fingers on the wet material, making a small moan come from you. "hey, you okay?" joshua asked, voiced full of concern. "yeah, just not feeling well..fuck..." you glare at wonwoo to be met with a pair of innocent doe eyes. you roll your eyes at him, and you're met with a harsh slap to your clit, one that makes you have to suppress a moan. "watch it brat." wonwoo grits. you brush him off and continue the call with joshua. wonwoo hooks his fingers around the band of your lace underwear, pushing it aside and inserting two fingers into your wet entrance. a really sinful sounding moan arose when he started pumping his two digits in you. "yeah...i think you should get some rest y/n, i'll talk to you tomorrow." you knew for a fact joshua was red on the other side of the line. "yeah will do josh, bye." and with that you end the call and drop your phone. "fuck woo.." "gosh..that took forever" he dramatically sighs, putting his chin on his free hand and increasing the speed of the other one in you. he watched you chase your release with an amused smile. "y-you better apologize to josh tomorrow. you manage to choke out. he clicks his tongue, "we'll see about that."

mingyu: making two cups of noodles? no. making out while the boiled water slowly turns cold? yes. you'd also decided to take the chance to prank mingyu, something stupid jeonghan asked you to do at your previous gathering, be uninterested. but the way his crotch was rubbing on your pants made it 100x harder. mingyu took your bottom lip and started sucking on it at the slightest made you let out a soft moan. your hands grabbing his pecks to stabilize yourself. his hands started to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, you knew damn well where this was leading to. you're pulled apart by the low grumble from mingyu's stomach. you shake your head, "you idiot. lets eat." he shakes his head furiously, "no i'll be fine, we can eat after." thats where your prank is perfectly laid out. "no gyu, control yourself." he sulks and puts on the biggest pout he could. you'd kiss it away usually but for the sake of the prank, you cant. you can see his shoulders slump as he re-boils the water, then turning around in a huff and looking at you with the most pleading eyes ever. you feel the guilt pang in your chest but you shake your head and walk away, just getting as far as possible before you give in. you hear feet shuffle behind you and you're met with the sight of your boyfriend looking all like a sad puppy. you put a finger on his chest and push him away, "just cook the ramen gyu. the faster you do it, the faster we can do whatever we want." his eyes light up at the thought and he's shuffling back to the kitchen. of course you want to prank your boyfriend further and play dumb. you're done with the meal and mingyu finished even faster of course. so now he's giving you that look ; the look when he is horny and wants to just rail you. mingyu knows you want it too. you're just playing one of your stupid tricks. mingyu's next move surprises you. he hovers over you, his head dipping so his mouth is at the shell of your ear. "i know you want me to just take you here on the couch right now. how about you be a good girl and stop this act of yours right now. i'll be nice to you and fuck you well and rough if you listen." and with that, you're pushing him back down, hands finding his hair as his find your hips. you press your lips against his, not wasting any more time. "who gave you this idea princess?" he asks between breathers. "jeonghan," you quickly respond before going back to kiss him. his eyes roll at your response. he'd have to have a word with jeonghan afterwards.

vernon: he was stuck in the study the whole day. and it was getting on your nerves. you didn't expect him to come out anytime sooner so you decided to get some sort of entertainment by pranking him and getting him needy at the same time. killing two birds with one stone. the door was tilted slightly and he could be seen sitting at the desk, computer in front of him and headphones plugged in. his eyes darted to the door the second you pushed it open. "hey babe," he smiles, tilting his laptop screen down. "all done for today?" you place your hands on the table, leaning forward puckering your lips asking for a kiss, which he complies with, giving you a short sweet peck. "almost, just need to add in some final touches." you smile at his answer, happy to finally have him to yourself soon. the prank almost slipped your mind. you slide yourself into his lap, his hands automatically resting on your hips. you grabbed his shirt, pulling him in, you could feel him get hard underneath you. he pulled you close, his hands shifted to grope your ass, a groan arose from your throat snapping you out of your trance. "well, better finish that piece you're working on, don't wanna disturb you." lifting yourself off him, his hands stay on your waist. vernon is not usually vocal, so he had a confused frown on his face. you quickly flee, leaving a flustered vernon behind you. well you had to compose yourself but he didn't give you much time before trudging out of the room, his eyes scanning all the rooms for you. his eyes landed on yours, he dragged his feet towards you, his expression not wavering since you last saw him. he pulled your sweater, acting all clingy all of a sudden, "don't you have to finish that piece you've been working on this whole afternoon?" you sigh, hands refusing to touch him before you just jump at him. "well it's fine, i can finish it some other time." his voice slightly suggesting something you both know damn well what it was. "you sure bout' that?" you tease, eyes never moving. "because you seemed like you wanted to finish it and-" vernon cuts you off, "just kiss me already...please." he whispers. you're taken aback, but you instantly let your body melt against his.

[flamedraco]

TNT Duo Halloween Bingo

I want to host a TNT Duo fic/art prompt event! Starting from today (October 1) to the end of October 31st!

The prompts are as follows: Shadows Vampires Costume Party Trick or Treat Ghost Demon Witch Folklore Scary Movie Possession Graveyard Zombie Werewolf Full Moon Blood Serial Killer Masquerade Haunted House Fae Haunted Forest Cursed Mirror Painting Familiar

And here are some BONUS PROMPTS (these are just for fun and a bit more detailed than the previous ones): Horror of a Popular Fandom AU: This prompt is when you take an AU that's popular in fandom culture, and you twist it into something horror based. For example, I plan on doing a horror version of a Hannhaki AU. But you can make horror versions of any AU if you try hard enough. Coffee Shop, Flower Shop, Canon Divergence. If the AU is popular and widespread across fandoms as a whole, it can count. Go wild with this one.

Sci-Fi Horror: This one is pretty simple, there is a lot of potential for horror stories when it comes to Sci-Fi elements. Whether you're going with something FNAF inspired or tackling the fear of the unknown with space, there are options.

The Deep Blue Sea: The ocean is a horrifying place and there's a lot of potential for scary spooky shit to happen miles under the surface of the water. This prompt can just be anything involving underwater horror, whether that be ancient eldritch magic and lost cities, or just something large and terrifying that a human can't possibly comprehend in its entirety.

Eldritch: Honestly surprised I didn't think of this when I was coming up with the prompts for the original Bingo sheet itself. This one is very simple, general eldritch horror in whatever form you as a writer or artist or whatever else sees fit. Admittedly there's a lot of room for eldritch shenanigans right there on the board, but consider this a little extra for any creatives who might want a bit more freedom on how and why something is eldritch.

This concludes the bonus prompts.

I meant to post about this event earlier but didn't have the bingo sheet ready until today (thank you Boo from my Discord server who put it together!)

I would like to stress that this is an event for c!TNT Duo, as I do not support William Gold in any way shape or form. I just love the characters and love Halloween so I figured it would be a fun project to work on throughout October.

There's no pressure to participate, nor any real rules other than it being strictly for the characters. Tag your fics and art with "TNT Duo Halloween Bingo". And that you, obviously, cannot have a fanwork count for multiple bingo squares. If it uses two or three of those concepts it can only count for one. Of course, keeping all of them together in a oneshot book or art book or whatever is acceptable, just don't use one fanwork to count for multiple prompts.

There is no prize, this is just meant to be a silly fun thing for anyone who might want some Halloween inspiration for the characters.

Please enjoy!

-Flame Draco

[machveil]

Has anyone brought to you the question of what type of car Konig drives? I can’t see him fitting in anything but a giant truck, but also the idea of him in a little VW Bug makes me wheeze. (Of course there’s always the third option of motorcycle, but that might just be because motorcycles are hot af)

OKAY ANON— you activated my brain and had me dig through a 300+ asmr playlist I have on YT for a very specific video so I’m going on a tangent and a half about this haha

I’ll start with the smallest thought portion because this is going to be long…

Retired!König strikes me as owning a motorcycle, first and foremost. he’s always liked the way they look, so now with a hefty savings account and ample free time, he’s decided this can be his retirement project. he could buy a new motorcycle, really treat himself, but this guy is a working man! he buys a beat up, ‘well-loved’ bike (even the seller was surprised someone was actually buying it)

even though Retired!König definitely has enough cash saved up to make the process of fixing the bike up fast… he doesn’t. he wants this to be a pastime he can keep up, even it means he can’t ride the bike for a long time. he’d order parts individually every week or so - smaller parts, maybe in batches. he’ll grab a beer, put on some music, open his garage, and let the neighbors have a show of him dismantling and breathing new life into this motorcycle

all in all, I think it takes Retired!König a year, a year and a half, to fully finish the bike (of his own volition). by the end it’s beautiful - new sleek paint, high end parts, the works. …he could possibly be so into it that Retired!König opens an actual garage shop and fixes up vehicles (mechanic!König anyone?). yeah, he’s retired, but having a hobby that makes you money? can’t say no to that, Maus

ANYWAYS, on to the meat and potatoes of this post

so, my beautiful, oh so smart anon, thank you for sparking my brain into remembering THIS VIDEO. you CANNOT tell me this isn’t König coded, the entire thing SCREAMS König to me (actually, the entire channel does, but I can only fangirl so much)

König owning a Jeep scratches my brain right - I’m not knowledgeable on cars/trucks, so if you think there’s a better off-roading/camping vehicle I will believe you 100%. also, I’m sorry, I’m watching the video as I’m writing this - König would definitely take his fluffy, little kitty camping with him. the guy in the video has a dog, but my cat dad propaganda will never stop

it doesn’t matter where or how old König is, he loves camping and immersing himself in nature - he needs a vehicle that can keep up with him. it started as a kid where he’d flee into the local woods after school or on weekends for alone time. he convinced his mama that he’d be okay if he camped out in the woods, and after one dinky camping trip he was sold. every chance he gets he’s off in nature - hiking, camping, he tried caving once but he was too big :( he liked the entrance to the cave though. he adores bird watching, definitely has high end binoculars. he’d buy a camera too, but he’d rather enjoy nature in the moment rather than fumbling to take a photo. König thinks that some things don’t need to be captured in a photo, it’s okay just sitting down experiencing it, just remembering it

so König enjoys having a vehicle that lets him get away from people, he doesn’t mind driving til he’s almost running on empty. he’d gladly drive out into the middle of nowhere just to sit down and take in nature. always carries a box of trash bags in his truck so he can pick up litter along the road. and, since his vehicle is what allows him to travel, he takes very good care of it

back to his Jeep, he decks it out like the guy in the video. when König camps he treats it as a ‘how long can I stay out here’ ordeal, or up until he has to go home for obligations. so König tries to maximize space, I’ll say it every time - König has a place for everything, he’s an organized king✨

I’m not going to lie, I’m just going to say look at the guy’s Jeep in the video. they way he has it set up is just how I imagine König’s Jeep - this guy has a net attached to the ceiling for supplies, I could see König bungee cording a cooler in the back (completely organized), I just have so many thoughts on König camping this is too much haha

I’m trying to stay focused on the car aspect, but like… camping with König :( I guess I could make that another post if people want to see that

I’m sorry the latter half was so all over the place, I tried to keep it simple and edit it down, but I couldn’t anyways… he definitely owns some type of car that can handle camping. I’m partial to this specific Jeep though, call me biased lol

I looked up that VW Bug and I’m SCREAMING, this poor man haha! he’d be so hunched over, anon, his poor back. König definitely loves the aesthetic/look of the VW Bug, but he’d rather deep clean his home than sit in that (which says a lot). if you own a cute little car he’d offer to drive you everywhere. he claims that he’s being a gentleman, that you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, but in actuality he just doesn’t want to sit in that cramped little vehicle. he’s so sorry, Maus, let him make it up to you by being his passenger princess?

[221beloved]

Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

(Link to ao3)

“John?”

John turned his eyes away from the trees, which were slowly changing their colour at this time of year, to look at Sherlock, walking next to him. “Yes, love?”

“They are eating gingerbread.”

“What?” John didn’t see anyone eating gingerbread, nor did he understand what Sherlock wanted to tell him with that observation.

“There!” Sherlock nodded to their left, and indeed, there was a couple sitting on a bench, happily munching, an open packet of gingerbread standing next to them.

John frowned. “Okay. And… what now?”

Sherlock turned to stare at him, his eyes wide, his expression almost shocked.

“John!” he called out in disbelief. “They, are eating, gingerbread!”

“Yes…?” John really didn’t get the point. “We’ve established that. What now?”

“It’s warm enough for them to sit on a bench in the park, yet they are eating gingerbread, John! Christmas is two months away!”

John blinked at the man, a little surprised at Sherlock’s outburst, then broke into giggles and nudged Sherlock’s hip.

“Wow, I knew that you pretend you don’t like Christmas, but that you’re so sensitive to people eating food that’s associated with the season, wow…”

Sherlock huffed next to him. “I do not pretend not to like it. I don’t have to.”

John tilted his head. “You seem contend enough when we’re decorating and having a nice time.”

“Well, you do like Christmas, for some reason that I cannot fathom, and since I like you there is some kind of… acceptance towards it.”

John grinned. “Hm, yes. Acceptance.”

“But only when it’s spend with you,” Sherlock added. “Only you. Well okay, Mrs. Hudson can come up as well if she needs to, but more I just can’t withstand!”

“Hm, I think your mother usually starts calling you in early October to ask you to attend Christmas dinner, right? Shouldn’t be long until her first call.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sherlock grumbled in remembrance of the yearly tradition of her asking and him refusing until the last possible moment.

“You know, it would be much easier if you’d just tell her, yes mummy, I will attend Christmas dinner, thank you for the invitation, yes I will bring John, yes, no gifts this year.”

“It would be much easier if she wouldn’t call me two times a week for almost two months to pester me about the same thing.”

“But would you come then?”

Sherlock decidedly didn’t answer that question, instead he kicked a chestnut that had the audacity to lay on the way.

“Oi!” John blurted. “Don’t you dare treat chestnuts like that.”

Sherlock looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“We used to build little figurines out of them.”

Sherlock only blinked at him. “What?” he repeated dumbly.

“Didn’t you? In primary school? They’d give you chestnuts, sometimes acorns, some toothpicks, and then you could build little chestnut men. I’ll show you a picture when we’re home.”

“That’s…” Sherlock lifted his brows almost appreciatively and nodded. “That’s surprisingly ridiculous. Bordering on hideous, even for primary school.”

John chuckled. “No! It was a very serious matter for us. Once one of us had found the first chestnut of the year we’d look forward to the day our teacher would come to class with a bag of them.”

Sherlock eyed him with a strange look, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that I’m sharing a flat with you, let alone my bed.”

John’s grin turned to a soft smile. “It’s because you love me, you nutter.”

“Yes. Yes I do. And I’ll never stop. Well, as long as you don’t start building those chestnut things again.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then both doubled over with laughter.

The rest of the way home was without any more disturbances, chestnuts and Christmas forgotten for the moment.

--

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