#conversely if we don't have anything established yet

[reginrokkr]

Relationship vibe check. As it suggests, this post is aimed to see where the mood is in terms of the relationships we've discussed in the past. By liking this post, I would take it as a thumbs up that we're all good to continue as before. If you feel like you'd like to change the direction of the dynamic that we discussed, you needn't be specific on this post. Just poke me on the comment section with whatever crosses your mind and I'll approach you via IM / Discord!

[maelancoli]

Adding Tension After the Ship Happens

i feel a lot of slow burn ships lose steam after the characters finally get together, whether it's just from sleeping together or them actually engaging in a relationship, so here are some ideas for how to maintain steam.

their problems are not solved now that they've crossed the thresh hold

first things first, the plot itself i'm sure has other details than just their relationship. even the most fluffy of fluff has other things going on than kisses and giggles. don't abandon these details once the relationship truly begins. and if there was any kind of unresolved tension point or previously mentioned ex/trauma/insecurity/fear bring it back! bring things back around that might put a strain on a new, tender relationship. this can either make them have problems or be a way to develop their bonds and *show* it in action. any of these foreshadowing/resurrected points can be added in edits if you didn't start out with them or with retconning if you're writing rp/fanfic. all the writers do it. we see it in tv everyday it's ok if u gotta pull a rabbit from a hat.

their relationship will not be suddenly smooth and solid as if they have been married 20 years

okay they kissed/fucked/agreed to be together. now what? what circumstances kept them from getting there sooner? are those circumstances still present and how will they deal with it as a team? you also don't have to have characters officially together once they've done something physical. there is still discussion to be had and boundaries/expectations to establish. those conversations could be interesting to explore. and, even more-so, this is the perfect point for plot to happen and keep them from being able to have those conversations when they should. you can add angst, you can add miscommunication, you can add anything that tickles your fancy. especially a perfect time to have an ex return to cause some tension and uncertainty if they haven't made it official. they don't know what they are yet and that uncertainty is a delicious point to write it and really give the characters a hard time

utilize the main plot's tension

again, if you're writing more than just a contemporary fluffy romance, the romance should enrich the main plot. the romance as a subplot should be a component which merges with the main storyline and does not take away from it. if you don't want to milk the will-they-won't-they anymore than you already have it's time to build the relationship up in the midst of OUTSIDE conflict. let them disagree about how to resolve problems. let them butt heads. let them be scared and do and say stupid shit because they're scared. let them be worried or angry or frustrated and have to figure out how to balance their newfound vulnerability with who they are and were before that point. let them hurt each other a little so they can come back together stronger.

utilize the characters around them

if it is a plot which is mainly romance filled, then think about the tension from the lives around them. think about their loved ones and how their own issues could influence the plot points the characters have to face together. this could be a time for them to be introduced to loved ones. you could throw in a group trip with silly mishaps and shenanigans. you could even have loved ones try to break them up or doubt the love interest. navigating new relationships while also dealing with friends and family can be a source of plot and tension in and of itself. this can be a point to let love interests reassure each other and prove their salt. it can help them grow closer. it can be the heroic moment for one of them to stick up for the other or prove they're there for them no matter what.

overall if you're struggling with what to do after the slow burn feels like it's sizzling out it's time to zoom out. make sure you are not losing the whole picture of their environment or steamrolling past the real development of new relationships.

[warpedpuppeteer]

It's interesting how Buck's love interests are all written in a way that ends because of the reason they meet/happen in the first place and then of course, we have Eddie.

Abby, who changes Buck's view of a healthy relationship but then turns around and ghosts him, making him wait for months on end and letting him realize she's not coming back on his own.

Ali, who meets Buck during a dangerous situation in his line of work and then leaves him for how dangerous his work is.

Taylor, who lashes out at Buck for using her as a fake date and saying she thought she could trust Buck to be a friend who then ends up using him for her career and chose to put his friends in danger.

Natalia, who's there to help him embrace and deal with his temporary death but it leads to their break up because of the constant talk surrounding death when Buck's not comfortable with it.

We can't confirm for Tommy till it ends but it's important to note how he offers to get Buck into his interests like flying and muay thai yet doesn't show effort with Buck's interests like dressing up according to the bachelor party theme despite Buck being stressed about it. And we also have the fact that the entire reason they got together was due to Buck's jealousy for Eddie which he then claims to be was for Tommy. Makes me think they are either going to end because of differing interests OR because of the jealousy issue popping up again.

Funnily enough, every scene above has an Eddie parallel:

Eddie co-parents with Buck and not only does this not stop after a dangerous event but Eddie also has Buck down as a legal guardian (healthy relationship - Abby).

Eddie is in the same dangerous line of work and they have each other's backs. This happens right off the bat too.(dangerous job - Ali).

The Lawsuit era and The Dispatch era - both where they "betray" each other but manage to work through it (betrayal/lie - Taylor).

Eddie doesn't pressure Buck to talk about his temporary death until Buck's ready and is more focused about him living than in his death (death doula - Natalia).

Eddie who has different interests than Buck (poker, basketball and UFC/MMA) but also manages to show interest and actively takes part in whatever Buck comes up with; he suggests their outfit for the themed party AND ends up staying there for Buck even when others leave (different hobbies & showing interest/taking part - Tommy).

Absolutely fascinating when you start noticing that Buck's relationships keep failing for one reason or another and then we have him and Eddie who face the same sort of situations but they still come out of it stronger together.

It's clear that there's a reason Buck is able to overcome anything when it comes to Eddie (that conversation with Maddie about being there for each other even at their worst 👀) and we've already established that everything Eddie looks for in a partner is already something he has found in Buck. So really, all that's left is for them to realize that hey, the one I'm looking for is right in front of me! 🤷🏽

And yes, it's been said to death (hah) but you don't find it son you make it. And Buck and Eddie have already made it.

[starskq]

FAMILY / J.Y

Pairing ◊ fem!reader x yunho

Genre ◊ VERRYYYY SUGGESTIVE, toe curling fluff, established relationship

Warnings ◊ VERRYY SUGGESTIVE, yunho is a bit of a tease here, dirty talk, softdom!yunho, yunho is just so soft, mention of marriage and kids, mention of family (grandparents, uncles, cousins, siblings, parents, etc.)

Word count ◊ 8,2k

Summary ◊ You and Yunho had been dating for a few years, and it was time for you to introduce him to your family.

a/n: I love yunho with my whole heart, and i kept giggling while writing this huhu. Enjoy!

You sat on the couch, your hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. The room was warm, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence. You had been thinking about this moment for days, rehearsing in your head how you would bring it up to Yunho. The invitation to your mom's birthday was tucked away in your purse, a constant reminder of the conversation you needed to have.

Yunho walked into the living room, a cheerful smile lighting up his face as he plopped down beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "Hey, babe," he said, his voice as bright and warm as his smile. "What's up? You seem a bit on edge."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Yunho, I need to talk to you about something."

His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he tilted his head, a puppy-like expression that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "Sure, anything. What's on your mind, love?"

You reached into your purse, pulled out the invitation, and handed it to him. He took it, glancing down at the elegant script on the front. "An invitation?" he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"It's for my mom's birthday," you explained, your voice trembling slightly. "She and the rest of my family have invited us to spend the weekend at my childhood house."

Yunho's face lit up with excitement. "That sounds amazing! I'd love to meet your family and see where you grew up." He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours. "But why do you look so nervous about it, sweetheart?"

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. "It's just... we’ve been together for a few years now, but I haven't had the chance to introduce you to my family yet. We live so far away; this is the first real opportunity to do it."

Yunho's expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "Hey, it's okay. I understand. It's a big step, but I'm really excited about it. I want to meet the people who mean so much to you."

You looked into his eyes, finding comfort in his unwavering gaze. "I guess I'm just worried. What if they don't like you? What if it's awkward?"

He chuckled softly, his laughter a soothing balm to your anxious heart. "Babe, your family is going to love me. How could they not? I'm very lovable." He gave you a playful wink, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"I know you are," you said, smiling despite yourself. "But it's still a little scary."

Yunho pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapped securely around you. "We'll face it together, okay? And no matter what happens, I'll be right there by your side."

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. "Thank you, yuyu. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. "You don't have to worry about that, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the warmth of his embrace chasing away your fears. When you finally pulled back, Yunho's eyes were bright with excitement. "So, when do we leave for this big family weekend?"

"Next Friday," you said, your voice steadier now. "We'll drive down after work."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Perfect. I've got a whole week to plan how to charm your family."

You laughed again, the sound lighter this time. "You don't need to plan anything, Yunho. Just be yourself. That's more than enough.’’ He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours. You really had the best boyfriend ever. 

Friday arrived pretty quickly, quicker than you anticipated. You loaded the last of the bags into the trunk of the car, taking a deep breath as you closed it. Yunho was busy adjusting the GPS, and his usual cheerful demeanor made the process seem more fun than it probably was. You climbed into the passenger seat, your nerves still buzzing beneath the surface.

Yunho looked over at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, squeezing your hand.

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. "Yeah, I guess so."

He leaned over and kissed your cheek. "Don't worry. It's going to be great. We'll have a fantastic time."

As he started the car and pulled out of the driveway, you looked out the window, your mind racing. The drive to your childhood home was long, giving you plenty of time to think. Yunho, always perceptive, sensed your anxiety and reached over to hold your hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your skin.

"Tell me more about your family," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "I want to know everything."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Well, my mom is amazing. She's warm and caring but can be a bit overprotective sometimes. She's been looking forward to meeting you ever since I told her about us."

Yunho smiled, his eyes focused on the road. "She sounds wonderful. I can't wait to meet her."

"And my dad," you continued, "he's a bit more reserved, but once he warms up to someone, he's really funny and kind. He loves talking about his hobbies, especially fishing and gardening."

"Fishing and gardening got it," Yunho said with a nod. "I'll have to brush up on my knowledge about those."

You laughed, feeling a bit lighter. "He'll appreciate that. Then there's my younger sister, Mia. But you already know her."

‘’Yeah, I remember. The future artist." Yunho said with a playful grin.

You smiled. Your lilttle sister and Yunho already met when she came to visit you during a weekend. You knew they got along great, so you did not worry about that. ‘’And my older brother, Daniel, he's a bit of a jokester. He likes to tease, but it's all in good fun. He's really protective, though, so don't be surprised if he tries to give you a hard time at first."

"I can handle a bit of teasing," Yunho said confidently. 

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "And then there's my extended family. My Uncle John and Aunt Clara, they practically raised me alongside my parents. Uncle John loves sports, especially baseball, and Aunt Clara is really into cooking and baking."

"Baseball and baking, got it. I think I can manage," Yunho said, his tone light and reassuring.

"And there are my cousins, Sam and Emily. They're twins, a few years younger than me. They're both really outgoing and love to have fun. They might drag you into some of their crazy plans. And my grandparents. They are not that old, but they are old school.’’

Yunho laughed, the sound filling the car with warmth. "I look forward to it. Sounds like a lively bunch."

You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, they are. I just hope they all like you as much as I do."

Yunho glanced over at you, his eyes filled with affection. "I think they'll love me, but even if they don't, as long as I have you, that's all that matters."

You couldn’t help but smile. He had this capacity with you to make you smile constantly. The rest of the drive was filled with more stories and laughter as you briefed Yunho on your family dynamics and shared memories from your childhood. The closer you got to your old home, the more your nerves settled, replaced by a growing excitement to share this part of your life with Yunho.

Finally, you turned onto the familiar tree-lined street, the house you grew up in coming into view. It looked just as you remembered, the front yard meticulously maintained, the porch swing swaying gently in the breeze. Yunho parked the car and turned to you with a big smile.

"Ready to do this, babe?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine excitement.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. "Yeah, let's do this."

You walked up to the front door with the bags in your hands. It swung open, revealing your mom's warm smile. She stepped out onto the porch, arms wide open. "There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "We were starting to think you'd forgotten the way home."

You laughed, the sound mingling with the nostalgic scent of your mom's favorite lavender perfume. "Hi, Mom. It's good to see you."

She pulled back, her eyes shining with joy. "It's about time you came to visit. We miss you, you know."

Your dad appeared behind her, his expression softer but equally welcoming. "Yeah, kiddo," he said, giving you a hug after your mom let go.

"I know, I know," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt mixed with happiness. "Life's just been so busy."

"Busy enough to forget your old folks?" your dad teased, ruffling your hair affectionately.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "I could never forget you guys."

Yunho stood behind you, holding a beautifully wrapped gift. He shifted slightly, drawing your parents' attention. "Mom, Dad," you said, stepping aside and gesturing towards him, "this is Yunho."

Yunho took a step forward, a cheerful but slightly nervous smile on his face. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n. It's so great to finally meet you."

Your mom's eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth. "Oh, we've heard so much about you, Yunho. It's lovely to meet you, too."

Yunho extended the gift to her, his hands steady despite the subtle tension in his posture. "I brought this for you, Mrs. y/l/n. I hope you like it."

Your mom's face lit up as she took the gift. "Oh, Yunho, you didn't have to! But thank you so much." She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a beautifully handcrafted vase. "This is gorgeous. Did you pick this out yourself?"

Yunho nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yes, I did. I thought it might go well with the flowers in your garden."

Your dad stepped forward, offering a firm handshake. "Good to meet you, Yunho. And thanks for the gift. It's very thoughtful."

Yunho shook his hand, his grip confident. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. I've heard so many wonderful things about both of you."

Your dad chuckled, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "All good things, I hope?"

Yunho laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. "Absolutely. Y/n always speaks very highly of you."

Your mom looped her arm through yours, leading you both into the house. "Well, we're just glad to finally meet you. And Yunho, please call us by our first names. We're family now."

As you walked through the familiar hallways, the smell of home-cooked food wafting through the air, Yunho leaned closer to you and whispered, "I think that went well, don’t you?"

You squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of affection. "You were perfect," you whispered back.

Your mom placed the vase on the counter in the kitchen, already thinking about which flowers to fill it with. "Yunho, would you like something to drink? We've got lemonade, iced tea, and coffee."

"Lemonade sounds great, thank you," Yunho replied, his smile genuine.

Your dad gestured towards the living room. "Let's sit and chat for a bit before everyone else gets here. I want to hear all about how you two met."

Yunho's eyes met yours, a spark of excitement and slight nervousness in them. "Well, it's a bit of a funny story," he began as you all settled into the comfortable, worn couches.

Your mom handed Yunho a glass of lemonade, and he took a sip before continuing. "We actually met at a coffee shop. Y/n was there with a mutual friend, and I kind of fell in love at first sight."

Your mom's eyes softened as she looked at you. "That sounds just like something out of a movie."

You felt your cheeks warm, embarrassed but happy. "It was pretty special," you admitted.

Your dad leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And how long have you two been together?"

"Three years now," Yunho said, glancing at you with a look that made your heart flutter. "And they've been the best years of my life."

Your mom reached out to squeeze your hand. "We're so happy for you both. You look so good together."

Yunho beamed, his confidence growing. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Your dad nodded in agreement. "Yes, we're glad to see our y/n so happy. And Yunho, you seem like a great fit for our family.’’

As the afternoon sun descended towards the horizon, the rest of your family started to arrive. The doorbell rang, and you felt a familiar rush of excitement. "That must be Mia," you said, standing up. Yunho followed you to the door, eager to meet everyone else.

You opened the door to find your younger sister, Mia, standing there with a wide grin. "Sis!" she squealed, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug.

"Mia!" you responded, hugging her back just as tightly. "I've missed you so much!"

Yunho stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Hey, Mia! Great to see you again."

Mia let go of you and gave Yunho a big hug. "Yunho! It's been a while. How have you been?"

"I've been great," Yunho said, his cheerful demeanor making Mia laugh. "How about you? Still painting up a storm?"

"Always," Mia replied with a wink. "And I've got a new piece to show you guys. I brought some pictures."

You all moved back into the living room, where Mia showed you her latest artwork on her phone. Yunho admired each piece, genuinely interested and supportive, which made Mia proud.

Just then, the front door opened again, and you heard the unmistakable voice of your older brother, Daniel. "Is that my little sister I hear?"

You stood up, a mix of excitement and apprehension in your chest. "Daniel!" you called out, meeting him halfway for a hug.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, his voice warm but his eyes scanning the room. When he spotted Yunho, his expression grew more serious. "And you must be Yunho."

Yunho stood up, extending a hand. "Yes, nice to meet you, Daniel."

Daniel took his hand, his grip firm. "So, you're the guy who's been taking care of my sister."

"That's right," Yunho said, maintaining eye contact and matching Daniel's firmness. "She's very important to me."

He nodded slowly, his gaze scrutinizing. "Well, it's good to finally meet you. Let's see if you can keep up with our family's shenanigans."

Yunho smiled, the challenge in Daniel's tone not going unnoticed. "I'll do my best."

Your mom called everyone to the kitchen, where snacks and drinks were laid out. As you all gathered around the kitchen island, the atmosphere began to relax. Yunho chatted easily with Uncle John about the latest baseball game, and Aunt Clara was already discussing her favorite recipes with him, thrilled to find someone who appreciated good food as much as she did.

Sam and Emily, your cousins, arrived next. They bounded into the house with infectious energy, their laughter filling the room. "Hey, cuz!" Sam called out, pulling you into a hug. "Long time no see!"

"Emily, Sam, it's great to see you guys!" you said, hugging Emily next.

They turned their attention to Yunho, curiosity in their eyes. "So, this is the famous Yunho?" Emily asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

"That's me," Yunho replied with a grin. "I've heard a lot about you two."

"All good things, I hope," Sam said, shaking Yunho's hand.

"Definitely," Yunho said, laughing.

Emily nudged Yunho playfully. "We might have to put you through a few tests to see if you can keep up with us."

Yunho's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Bring it on. I'm ready."

As the evening progressed, Yunho fit right in with your family. He joined in on the laughter, participated in the friendly teasing, and even helped your mom in the kitchen, much to her delight. At one point, you found yourself standing back, watching him interact with everyone, and you felt a swell of pride and affection.

The house buzzed with conversation and laughter, the air filled with the comforting smells of your mom’s cooking. Emily nudged you playfully, glancing over at Yunho who was deep in conversation with Uncle John about last night's baseball game.

“You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was so handsome,” Emily whispered, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Seriously, where did you find him?”

You chuckled, feeling a bit of pride. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Emily sighed dramatically. “I need to start hanging out at coffee shops more often.”

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again, signaling the arrival of your grandparents. You excused yourself and walked over to the door, your heart swelling with affection as you opened it to see their familiar faces.

“Grandma, Grandpa!” you exclaimed, hugging them both tightly. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your grandpa said, his voice gruff but warm. “Now, where’s this young man I’ve been hearing so much about?”

You guided them into the living room, where Yunho was now chatting with your dad. “Grandma, Grandpa, this is Yunho.”

Yunho stood up, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he extended his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir, ma’am.”

Your grandpa took Yunho’s hand, his grip firm as he sized him up. “So, you’re the one courting my granddaughter, eh?”

Yunho swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, sir. I care about her very much.”

There was a tense moment of silence before your grandpa’s face broke into a wide grin. “Well, as long as you keep treating her right, we won’t have any problems.” He clapped Yunho on the back, laughing heartily.

Yunho let out a relieved breath, smiling. “I promise, sir. She means everything to me.”

Your grandma stepped forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. “And such a handsome young man,” she said, patting Yunho’s cheek. “You’re just as charming as she said.”

Yunho’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he laughed nervously. “Thank you, ma’am. You’re too kind.”

As everyone settled back into their conversations, you could see Yunho visibly relaxing. He had navigated through your grandpa’s initial test and won over your grandma with his charm. Your heart swelled with affection and pride.

Your mom called everyone to the dining table for dinner. The table was laden with a feast that your mom had spent hours preparing. As everyone found their seats, Yunho helped your grandma to her chair, earning another appreciative smile from her, before pulling out your chair for you before taking his own seat beside you. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, and you felt a wave of warmth wash over you.

Your dad started the conversation as your mom brought out the dishes. "So, Yunho," he said, leaning forward with interest, "tell us a bit about what you do for a living."

Yunho smiled, glancing at you before answering. "I work as a software engineer. I develop applications and systems for a tech company."

Your dad raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "That sounds like a challenging job. How did you get into that field?"

"I've always been interested in technology," Yunho explained, his enthusiasm evident. "I started learning to code as a teenager and fell in love with it. I went on to study computer science in college, and I've been working in the field ever since."

"That's fantastic," Uncle John said, nodding appreciatively. "Technology is such a big part of our lives now. You must be very talented."

"Thank you," Yunho said, his cheeks tinting slightly pink. "I enjoy what I do, and it's always rewarding to solve problems and create something useful."

Emily leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, Yunho, what's it like dating my cousin? She's always been a bit of a handful."

You shot her a playful glare, but Yunho laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's never dull, that's for sure. But in all seriousness, she's the most amazing person I've ever met. I'm very lucky to have her in my life."

You felt your heart swell at his words and squeezed his hand under the table. He turned to you with a soft smile, his eyes full of affection.

Mia chimed in, her voice full of curiosity. "Yunho, do you have any hobbies? What do you like to do in your free time?"

"I enjoy a lot of things," Yunho said, his face lighting up. "I like dancing, playing the guitar, and I dabble in cooking, though I'm nowhere near as good as your mom."

Your mom beamed at the compliment. "That's lovely to hear. Maybe we can have a cooking session together sometime."

"I'd love that," Yunho replied sincerely.

Your dad then asked, "What's the most challenging project you've worked on?"

Yunho thought for a moment. "I once worked on a project to develop a new security system for a large corporation. It involved a lot of complex coding and troubleshooting, but in the end, it was very rewarding to see it all come together."

"That's impressive," Daniel said, a hint of respect in his voice. "Security systems are no joke."

Yunho’s natural charm and humor began to shine through as the conversation flowed. He shared funny anecdotes from work and college, making everyone laugh with his witty comments and endearing stories.

At one point, you reached for the bread basket, but before you could, Yunho had already passed it to you, anticipating your need. Your mom noticed and smiled warmly. "You two make a great team," she said.

Yunho grinned, looking at you with adoration. "I try to keep her happy."

"You're doing a wonderful job," your grandma said, her eyes twinkling. "And I have to say, you're quite the catch, Yunho. Handsome, intelligent, and attentive."

Yunho's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. "Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that."

As the main course was served, Yunho continued to engage with your family, asking questions about their interests and sharing stories of his own. His attentiveness and genuine interest in getting to know everyone were clear, and your family responded warmly to him.

"Do you play any sports, Yunho?" Sam asked between bites of mashed potatoes.

"I enjoy playing soccer," Yunho replied. "I used to play in a league back in college. It’s a great way to stay active and have fun."

"Soccer, huh?" Uncle John said. "We should have a family match sometime. What do you think, y/n?’’

You laughed. "I'd love that, but you know I'm terrible at sports."

"We'll go easy on you," Daniel teased.

As dessert was brought out, your mom's famous apple pie, the conversation took a more relaxed turn. Yunho leaned closer to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you having a good time, love?’’ he whispered.

You nodded, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Yes. Thank you for being so wonderful."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. He leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "Anything for you."

As everyone settled into dessert, your grandpa cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Yunho," he began, his tone serious but with a twinkle in his eye, "there's something I've been wondering about."

Yunho straightened in his chair, giving your grandpa his full attention. "Yes, sir?"

"When are you planning to ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage?" your grandpa asked, his eyes moving between you and Yunho with a knowing look.

You felt a wave of heat rush to your face, and you quickly took a sip of your drink, trying to compose yourself. Before you could answer that you were still young and didn’t want Yunho to feel pressured, Yunho spoke up, his voice steady and confident.

"Actually, sir," Yunho said, his eyes meeting your grandpa's without hesitation, "that's in my plans very soon."

You choked on your drink, coughing as you tried to process what he had just said. Yunho reached out to pat your back gently, a smirk playing on his lips. "Careful there, sweetheart," he said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

The room went silent for a moment, everyone looking at Yunho with a mix of surprise and anticipation. Your mom's eyes were wide with excitement, and your dad leaned forward, clearly interested in Yunho's response.

"You've thought about this already?" your grandpa asked, his voice softer now, more thoughtful.

"Yes, I have," Yunho replied, his gaze now shifting to you. His eyes were filled with love and certainty. "I love [Your Name] more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I've been thinking about how to make it special and memorable."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of shock and overwhelming happiness. You looked at Yunho, unable to believe what you were hearing. He gave you a reassuring smile, his hand finding yours under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Your grandma clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Oh, Yunho, that's wonderful to hear! You have our blessing, of course."

Your dad nodded, a proud smile spreading across his face. "It's clear how much you care for her. Just make sure to treat her well, always."

"I promise, sir," Yunho said earnestly. "She means the world to me, and I will do everything in my power to make her happy."

Mia leaned over, her eyes wide with excitement. "This is so romantic! I can't believe this is happening!"

Daniel, who had been watching Yunho closely, finally broke into a grin. "Well, Yunho, it looks like you've got a lot of support here. Just remember, I'm still watching you," he added with a playful wink.

Yunho laughed, his confidence unwavering. "I'll remember that, Daniel."

Your grandpa raised his glass, a gesture that everyone quickly followed. "To Yunho and y/n,’’  he said, his voice filled with warmth. "May your future be filled with love and happiness."

"To Yunho and y/n’’ everyone echoed, raising their glasses in celebration.

You looked at Yunho, your heart bursting with love and gratitude. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "I hope that was okay," he whispered. "I didn't want to put you on the spot, but I wanted your family to know how serious I am about us."

You nodded. "It was perfect," you whispered back. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, his eyes shining with sincerity.

As everyone resumed their conversations, the atmosphere now even more joyous, you realized how truly lucky you were. Yunho had not only won over your family but had also shown you just how deeply he cared. 

The evening had wound down, and the dining room was a happy mess of empty plates and half-finished desserts. You and your mom had started cleaning up, bringing dishes into the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. The warm glow of the kitchen lights cast a cozy atmosphere, and the sounds of laughter and conversation from the living room drifted in.

You were at the sink, rinsing off a stack of plates, when you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist. Yunho's chest pressed against your back, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. "Hey, beautiful," he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day melt away. "Hey yourself," you replied, smiling. "I didn't realize you were so sneaky."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I couldn't resist. You looked too cute standing here, working so hard."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Well, someone has to clean up this mess. And don't think I didn't notice you charming everyone out there."

"Just doing my best to fit in," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Did it work?"

"You know it did," you said, turning your head to catch his eye. "Everyone loves you. Even Grandpa."

"Grandpa's great," Yunho said with a smile. "But I have to say, your Grandma might be my favorite. She wouldn't stop talking about how handsome I am."

You laughed, shaking your head. "She does have a knack for making people feel special."

Yunho's arms tightened around you, and he nuzzled your neck. "Speaking of making people feel special, how are you holding up? It's been a big day."

You sighed, leaning into his warmth. "It's been amazing. I'm so happy everyone got to meet you. And what you said at dinner... I didn't see that coming."

He smirked, his breath tickling your ear. "I like to keep you on your toes."

"You definitely do," you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "But it was perfect. I love you so much."

"I love you too," he whispered, kissing your neck. "And I meant every word. I'm serious about us."

You turned in his arms, facing him. "I know you are. And that makes me so happy."

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "You make me happy, every single day."

You kissed him softly, feeling the world fade away for a moment. You were lost in the moment, it was usual when you and Yunho kissed. His hands cradled your face, and you felt wrapped up in his love and warmth. The sound of the door swinging open barely registered until you heard a familiar, teasing voice.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” your mom said, her voice filled with amusement.

You broke the kiss, stepping back from Yunho, your face heating up with a blush. “Mom!” you exclaimed, trying to sound more composed than you felt.

Mia stepped into the kitchen behind your mom, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like someone’s getting a head start on the honeymoon,” she teased, winking at you.

You felt your cheeks grow even hotter. “Mia! Seriously?”

Yunho, ever the charmer, grinned at them both. “Just making sure your sister knows how much I appreciate her,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere.

Your mom chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, we can see that. But Yunho, could you help Grandma with her luggage? She’s staying in the guest room, and I think she could use a strong pair of hands.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Yunho said, immediately stepping away and heading towards the living room. “I’ll take care of it right away.”

As he left the kitchen, your mom and Mia turned their full attention to you, their faces lit up with matching grins. “You’ve got yourself a keeper there,” your mom said, her voice full of warmth. “He’s tall, handsome, and so intelligent. What a catch!”

Mia nodded enthusiastically. “And did you see how he just swooped in to help Grandma? Total gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering embarrassment. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

Your mom gave you a knowing look. “Pretty amazing? Honey, he’s more than that. He’s head over heels for you. The way he looks at you… it’s like you’re the only person in the room.”

“And he’s funny, too,” Mia added, leaning against the counter. “He had everyone laughing all through dinner. You’re really lucky.”

You nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude and happiness. “I know. I feel really lucky to have him.”

Your mom patted your arm affectionately. “You deserve someone who treats you well and makes you happy. And Yunho seems like he’s doing just that.”

Mia nudged you playfully. “So, when’s the wedding? I need to plan my outfit.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’’

Your mom’s eyes softened, a look of pride and happiness on her face. “Just remember to take things at your own pace. We’re all here to support you, no matter what.”

Mia wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “And we’ll be the best wedding planning team ever, when the time comes. No pressure, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth and love from your family surround you. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to know you’re all here for me.”

The evening had finally quieted down. The house was still, save for the occasional murmur of conversation from inside. You stepped out onto the porch, seeking a moment of peace under the stars. The cool night air was refreshing, and the gentle creak of the porch swing was a comforting sound.

You spotted your grandma, wrapped in a cozy shawl, already seated on the swing. She looked up and smiled as you approached. "There you are, dear. Come sit with me."

You settled onto the swing beside her, the familiar scent of her lavender perfume wrapping around you. "Hi, Grandma. I needed a little break from the chaos."

She chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "It’s been quite the evening, hasn’t it? But a wonderful one."

You nodded, feeling a wave of contentment. "It has been. I’m so happy everyone got to meet Yunho. And I’m really glad you like him."

"Like him?" she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Oh, dear, I more than like him. He’s a wonderful young man. You’ve found someone very special."

Your heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Grandma. That means a lot to me. He’s been so amazing, and tonight… it just felt perfect."

She patted your hand gently. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, my dear. Watching you tonight, seeing the way Yunho looks at you… it’s clear how much he loves you."

You blushed, but her words filled you with joy. "I love him too, Grandma. More than I can put into words."

Your grandma smiled, her gaze turning wistful. "Love is a beautiful thing. It’s about finding someone who makes your heart feel at home, who supports you, and who you can share your life with."

You looked at her, feeling a surge of affection. "Like you and Grandpa?"

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with memories. "Exactly like that. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’ve always been there for each other. That’s what matters most."

You squeezed her hand, feeling a deep sense of connection. "Thank you, Grandma. For everything."

She smiled, her expression soft. "I’m just so proud of you, my dear. And I’m thrilled to see you so happy."

Just then, the porch door creaked open, and Yunho stepped out, his eyes searching the dimly lit space. When he spotted you, he smiled warmly. "There you are. I’ve been looking for you."

Your grandma caught the hint immediately. "Well, it looks like I should give you two some time alone." She patted your hand one last time before standing up. "Goodnight, Yunho. Thank you for a lovely evening."

"Goodnight, ma’am," Yunho replied, giving her a respectful nod. "It was a pleasure."

As your grandma made her way back into the house, Yunho walked over to the swing, sitting down beside you. "I missed you," he said softly, taking your hand in his.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. It’s been such a wonderful evening."

He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. "It really has. Your family is amazing. And your grandma… she’s something special."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "She really is. She’s always been a source of wisdom and love for me."

Yunho kissed the top of your head, his voice filled with affection. "I can see where you get it from."

The night air felt cool and refreshing as you nestled against Yunho's shoulder on the porch swing. The stars above sparkled, and the soft hum of crickets filled the silence. Yunho's arm around you provided a comforting warmth, and you felt a sense of contentment wash over you.

Yunho broke the silence first, his voice playful. "So, what do you think? Did I pass the family test?"

You laughed softly, looking up at him. "You passed with flying colors. They absolutely adore you."

He smirked, leaning in closer. "Even your Grandpa? I thought he might have been ready to grill me a bit more."

"You handled him perfectly," you said, smiling. "You handled everyone perfectly."

"Well, I had to impress my future in-laws," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You blushed, playfully swatting his arm. "Yunho!"

He laughed, pulling you closer. "What? It’s true. I meant every word I said at dinner. I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted."

You gazed up at him, feeling a rush of emotions. "You’re everything I’ve ever wanted too, Yunho."

He grinned, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. "So, when are we setting the date?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re really jumping ahead, aren’t you?"

"Just planning ahead," he said, winking. "I need to make sure everything is perfect for my perfect girl."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And you love me for it," he replied, giving you a quick kiss.

You sighed happily, resting your head back on his shoulder. "I do. I really do."

He chuckled, his voice softening. "Seriously, though. I want to make you happy. And I can’t wait to build a life with you."

You squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of love. "You already make me happy, Yunho. More than you know."

He smiled, looking thoughtful for a moment. "So, have you ever thought about what kind of wedding you’d want?"

You blushed again, caught off guard. "Well, maybe a little. Something simple, I think. Surrounded by family and friends. Nothing too extravagant."

"I can see that," he said, nodding. "Simple, but beautiful. Just like you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, poking his side gently.

He laughed, his eyes shining with affection. "Good to know."

There was a comfortable pause, the swing gently swaying as you both enjoyed the peaceful night. Yunho broke the silence again, his voice teasing once more. "And what about kids? Ever thought about that?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. "Wow, you really are planning everything, aren’t you?"

"Just curious," he said, smirking. "I think you’d be an amazing mom."

You smiled, feeling a warm glow inside. "I think you’d be an amazing dad."

His expression softened, and he kissed your forehead. "I hope so. But one step at a time, right?"

"Right," you agreed, feeling the excitement of the future you both envisioned.

Yunho’s teasing grin returned. "But seriously, I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress. You’re going to look breathtaking."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re too much, Yunho."

"Only for you," he said, his eyes filled with love. "Because you’re worth it."

The porch swing swayed gently as you and Yunho continued to talk, the night wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Yunho’s arm was still around you, holding you close, his warmth a comforting presence. His teasing smile had faded into something softer, more intimate.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. “You know,” he began, his voice low and husky, “I’ve been thinking about more than just our future wedding.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his tone. “Oh? Like what?”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “Like what I want to do to you tonight.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Yunho, my whole family is here.”

He didn’t seem deterred. In fact, his playful grin only widened. “That just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

“Yunho,” you protested weakly, but there was no denying the thrill his words sent through you.

He nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. “I’ve been thinking about how beautiful you looked tonight. How much I wanted to pull you into a room and have my way with you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you squirmed slightly in his embrace. “You’re impossible,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky.

“Impossible? Or irresistible?” he teased, his hand gently caressing your arm. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing every inch of you. About hearing you say my name when no one else can hear.”

You bit your lip, trying to stay composed. “Yunho, seriously, we can’t do this here.”

He laughed softly, the sound full of mischief. “I’m not doing anything. Just talking. But I love seeing you get all flustered.”

You turned to glare at him, but his playful expression melted your resolve. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

He nodded, his eyes twinkling. “I know. But you love it.”

You sighed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“That’s the plan,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear again. “I want you thinking about me all night. About what I’m going to do to you when we’re alone.”

“Yunho,” you whispered, feeling a mix of frustration and arousal. “You’re terrible.”

“Terrible? Or amazing?” he countered, his voice filled with playful confidence.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite yourself. “Both.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “You should behave. My family is just inside.”

“I am behaving,” he said, feigning innocence. “Just having a conversation.”

You rolled your eyes, but the affection in his gaze made your heart swell. “You’re incorrigible.”

‘’I love you too, babe,’’ he said, chuckling ‘’And I love making you blush.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with warmth. “You’re lucky I love you.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “I know. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

You kissed him softly, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite his teasing, you knew Yunho was the one for you. And as you pulled back, his playful grin returned, making your heart flutter.

“Now, about those things I want to do to you…” he began, but you cut him off with a laugh.

“Yunho!”

He laughed too, holding you close. “Alright, alright. But just you wait until we’re alone.”

You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “I can’t wait.”

As you sat there together, the night wrapped around you, you knew that no matter how much he teased, Yunho was your perfect match. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As you and Yunho sat together on the porch, still basking in the playful teasing and warmth of each other's company, you heard the door creak open. Your dad stepped out, his expression a mix of amusement and sternness.

"It's getting late, you two," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Time to call it a night."

You nodded, feeling a bit sheepish. "Okay, Dad. We'll head up."

Yunho stood up, helping you to your feet. "Goodnight, sir," he said respectfully.

"Goodnight, Yunho. Goodnight, sweetheart," your dad replied, giving you a nod before heading back inside.

You and Yunho made your way upstairs to your childhood bedroom, the familiar creak of the stairs under your feet bringing back memories. As you opened the door, Yunho's eyes widened in delight.

"Wow," he said, looking around the room with a wide grin. "This is amazing."

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

The room was exactly as you had left it, with posters of your favorite bands on the walls, a collection of stuffed animals on the bed, and your old vanity table cluttered with trinkets and makeup from your teenage years.

Yunho walked over to your bookshelf, scanning the titles with interest. "You were always quite the bookworm, huh?"

‘’Yeah, those were some of my favorites growing up.’’ You said, smiling, as you walked up to him. 

He picked up a well-worn copy of a fantasy novel, flipping through the pages. "I can see why. This looks like a great story."

You watched him fondly, feeling a mix of nostalgia and affection. "It is. I used to stay up all night reading that one."

He put the book back, then turned his attention to your old vanity table. "And this... this is quite the collection." He picked up an old bottle of perfume, sniffing it and wrinkling his nose playfully. "Did you actually wear this?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I did. It was all the rage back then."

Yunho grinned, setting the bottle down. "I can see why. Very... unique."

He moved over to your dresser, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a pair of colorful, frilly underwear. "And what do we have here?" he teased, holding them up with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Did you really wear these?"

Your face turned bright red as you snatched them from his hand. "Yunho! Those are from when I was a teenager!"

He laughed, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "They're adorable. You must have been quite the fashionista."

You shoved the underwear back into the drawer, closing it firmly. "Okay, that's enough. Stop snooping."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close. "I’m just teasing, sweetheart. It’s cute. Seeing where you grew up, learning more about you... I love it."

You sighed, leaning into his embrace. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And you love it," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"I do," you admitted, turning to face him. "But if you keep teasing me, you might end up sleeping on the floor."

He chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I’ll behave. For now."

You smiled, pulling back to look at him. "Good. Now, let's get some sleep."

As you changed into your pajamas, Yunho continued to explore your room, occasionally commenting on the various items he found. "I can't believe you still have this old teddy bear," he said, holding up a well-loved stuffed animal.

"Mr. Snuggles," you said, smiling. "He’s been with me since I was a baby."

Yunho placed the bear back on the bed, then turned to you with a soft smile. "I’m glad I get to share this part of your life with you."

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Me too. It means a lot to me."

He kissed the top of your head, then gently guided you to the bed. "Come on, let’s get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow."

You climbed into bed, feeling the familiar comfort of your old room. Yunho joined you, pulling the covers over both of you and wrapping his arms around you.

The warmth of his body and the rhythmic sound of his breathing began to lull you into a peaceful state. However, it wasn't long before you felt his lips on your neck, planting soft kisses that made your heart race.

"Yunho," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "We should get some sleep."

He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your skin. "I know," he murmured, his hand sliding up your side, "but you just look so irresistible."

You shivered under his touch, trying to keep your voice steady. "Behave, Yunho. My family is just in the next room."

"I'll behave," he promised, but the mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise.

His hand continued to explore, slipping under your pajama top, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He pressed himself closer to you, and you could feel his growing arousal against your back. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered, his voice low and husky.

"Yuyu," you said again, more firmly this time, trying to regain control. "We can't do this here."

He chuckled again, his hand moving to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. "I'm not doing anything," he said innocently. "Just touching you."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. "Yunho, please."

He didn't relent. Instead, he continued to whisper filthy things in your ear, his voice filled with a dominant edge that made your breath catch. "I can't stop thinking about how good you feel," he murmured. "How much I want to hear you moan my name."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stay quiet. "Yunho, we can't. My parents—"

"Your parents are asleep," he interrupted, his hand sliding down to your waist. "And even if they weren't, they wouldn't hear a thing if you're quiet."

You felt yourself trembling with desire, torn between wanting him to stop and needing him to continue. "Yunho, please," you whispered, your voice desperate.

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."

You bit your lip harder, your breathing becoming more labored. "Please stop," you managed to say, though your body betrayed you, pressing back against him.

"Stop?" he echoed, his hand slipping lower, fingers brushing against your core. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"

You let out a shaky breath, your resolve weakening. "We can't make noise."

He grinned against your skin. "Then you'll just have to be very quiet," he whispered, his fingers teasing you through your pajamas.

You stifled a moan, your body aching for more. "Yunho, this isn't fair."

"Life's not fair, baby," he said, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Now, be a good girl and stay quiet."

[charrlote365]

The Fox's Roulette.

Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SAEROM Word Count: 15.798 Tags: Romance, pits, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Saerom

PART 1 The neon lights from street flickered through the window, casting a yellow ray across the polished counter of my bar(PIC 1). The bar has already closed but I was not quite finish working yet, because tonight, my regular customer, also a close friend was visiting. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, I never thought owning and working in a bar would give me a chance to have a KPOP idol as a friend. Saerom, the leader of fromis_9(PIC2), honored my humble establishment as her first choice to have her favorite activity: Drinking.

Saerom and I had formed a friendship over the years. Despite her celebrity status, she found happiness and comfort in my small bar, away from the spotlight world. I knew her even before we were friends, because after all, I was also a Flover, and you don't have to guess who is my ult bias. It's her. Thankfully she didn't know about this, so we can have a comfortable chit chats. I always know that she was a shy soul, despite of her sharp glares on performances.

As the late night seeping through, the empty glasses were pilling up, yet Saerom's laughter filled the air. She looked happier than usual(PIC3), her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the alcohol. I watched her with a mixture of amusement and concern, knowing she had drunk a bit too much than usual.

"Hey, Saerom," I said, leaning against the counter. "You've had quite a few tonight. Maybe it's time to call it a night?"

Saerom pouted, raising a glass filled with beer high up, her gaze unfocused(PIC4). "But I don't wanna go home yet. I drove here by myself, so I can't drive back home now. You don't want anything bad happen to me, your biggest spender, do you?? bad bad bartender.. hehe..hiccups. Hey, can't I just stay here with you?"

PART 2 I can't believe what I just heard. "What did she just say?!!", I shouted loud in my heart. I hesitated, torn between my duty as a caring friend and the unspoken rules of propriety both as a fan and decent human being. But it seems the devil has won this time, I just can't let go this chance, to spend the night together with my most beloved person on earth, Lee, Saerom.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," I relented with a smile. "You can stay, but only if you promise not to cause too much trouble."

Saerom grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I promise."

As the night deepen, Saerom and I settled into our usual spot by the tinted window. The conversation flowed effortlessly between us, filled by laughter and personal stories.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, her voice was swaying around. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I replied, trying to guess why the sudden change of mood.

Saerom hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid in her glass as if searching for the right words. "Are you… a fan of our group?"

Panic gripped me as I struggled with the secret I kept. I wondered why she asked that so suddenly. But with a deep breath, I looked her in the eye and confessed, letting honesty flow from within.

"Yes," I admitted, the word slipping out before I could stop it. "I am."

Saerom's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."

"Well, I'm glad that you do. At least I know you like us as a KPOP group, I think we're not doing that bad afterall", she said with a giggle yet with a slight hint of sadness.

"So! Next question! Who do you like the most in fromis?" Saerom asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I felt my heart skip a beat, panic rising in my chest. I hadn't expected her to ask that now, and now my secret admiration for her was on the brink of being exposed. I searched for words, trying to think what answer should I give.

"Well, um…" I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "Honestly, it's you."

Saerom's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I feared I had crossed a line. But then, a warm smile spread across her face, and she leaned in closer, she put her hand on mine.

"Really? You don't need to lie to me" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine excitement.

I nodded quickly, feeling the tension ease. "Yeah, I swear. I'm dead serious."

"What about me? Why am I your favorite?" she asked while closing her eyes with a gentle smile on her face, waiting for me to spill all her good qualities.

"It's how you're so talented and dedicated, yet still so humble. You have incredible stage presence, but you're also kind and down-to-earth. And then your smile always lights up the room and makes everyone around you feel special. You have this way of making people feel seen and appreciated. That's what makes you my favorite, and also to be honest, I really like your visual"

Saerom's eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand gently. "Aww you're making me shy now but thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."

"Hey," she began, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I have an idea. Wait here."

Before I could ask what she meant, she stood up from her chair and disappeared into the back room where she'd left her bag. A few moments later, she returned, holding a neatly folded outfit.

"I brought my idol outfit from last performance," she explained, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I thought… maybe I could change into it. As a thank you. For being such a great friend and fan."

I blinked, taken aback by her unexpected offer. "Are you sure? You don't have to do that."

Saerom nodded, her smile widening. "I want to. Just give me a minute."

With that, she went into the restroom, leaving me to process the surreal turn of events. My heart raced with anticipation as I imagined her in the dazzling outfit I'd only seen if I went to the stage.

PART 3 A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Saerom stepped out. She was a vision in her idol attire, the sparkling white dress catching the light and casting a radiant glow around her. She struck a playful pose, clearly enjoying the moment(VID 1).

"So," she said, twirling her body slightly, "what do you think?"

I was frozen. She always look amazing, but able to see her up close in her idol mode hit different. "You look amazing," I finally managed to say something, my voice filled with admiration. "Thank you, Saerom, This means a lot for me."

"I'm glad you like it," she said softly. "I had wanted to do something special for you anyways". "Btw, I feel a lil bit bored, let’s play a game,” she suggested, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Roulette. But with cards. We’ll guess if it’s black or red. Whoever wins gets to ask the loser to do a truth or dare.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A little risky, don’t you think?”

She giggled, “That’s the fun part! Besides, you can’t back out now. your beloved Saerom has challenged you! hehe”

I couldn’t resist her playful challenge. I Grabbed a deck of cards from behind the bar, I shuffled them thoroughly and folded one card in half, placing it in front of us. Saerom watched with focus, although I knew she was absolutely drunk like a drunk overworked old man.

“Ladies first,” I said, gesturing to the card.

“Red,” she declared confidently.

I unfolded the card—black. She groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “Alright, bartender. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I replied, not wanting to waste my chance.

She leaned closer, her alcohol reeked warm breath against my nose. “so my Master, what is you first command?", she said jokingly.

PART 4 I chuckled, while thinking. "May I take pictures of you tonight?". She slightly tilted her head back, "Is that all? I don't have to do anything?". "Yes, that's enough for now", I answered while taking my first picture of her on that night (PIC 5). She looked very gorgeous, her eyes are beautiful, and I couldn't believe it that I was the only person her eyes are looking at for the whole night.

We continued the game. This time my turn. “Black.”

Saerom’s eyes twinkled as she unfolded the card—red. She clapped her hands in delight. “Yes! Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I said, feeling a bit excited.

Her eyes scanned the empty bar, almost like checking if we're really alone, then returned to me with a sudden foxy smile. “I dare you..to show me your kinks through action, you can't back down now! haha!”

I was frozen. "A-are you crazy? I think you drank too much". "No..I'm not joking..", she replied. I looked deep into her eyes trying to confirm her decision, and it seemed she's excited about it. With that, I then asked her to raise her arms, exposing her milky, foldy pits that I love so much(PIC 6). Feeling a bit shy, I closed my eyes then moved my head closer to her pits, the scent of her perfume mixed with her sweat becoming more pronounced. They smelled sweet, almost flowerily. She tilted her arms back slightly, giving me better access, and my heart raced as I put my nose right on her pits and breathed in the delicate smell from her. I lost myself from her scent that I kissed her pits and licked them. She giggled slightly from the tickle yet didn't say anything. I kept continuing kissing and licking her pits, savoring the slightly salty, sweet and sour taste of her foldy pits meat and fat. The scent, the warmth of her pits filling my tongue, emitting an intimate taste that made my heart beats faster. Her hair brushed against my cheek, and I could feel the slight rise and fall of her breath. The world outside the bar seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in this moment.

PART 5 Regaining my consciousness, I realized I had gone too far. "I-I'm, sorry! I think I got carried away!"

She smiled shyly , her eyes were like she's in absolute intoxication, her breath was uncontrollable from what I just did to her, “It's okay, that was fun, I kinda enjoyed it”, she said with a giggle, her voice was gentle.

Alright, Round three. Saerom guessed red again, and this time she got it wrong again. She didn’t hesitate. “Truth or dare?”, I asked.

“Dare,” she said, feeling bold after what just happened.

She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “So what do you want me to do?”, while looking sweetly to me.

I paused, considering. I must have gone crazy that time, because my very next request, was asking her to take off her clothes.

Saerom raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled, accepting the challenge. She held up her hands and began to slowly taking off her white dress, one finger at a time, clamping down her dress hook, then her bra, and lastly, her nipple pads. Her movements were deliberate and almost mesmerizing. I have never seen a woman undressing in front of me, let alone someone that I adore very much. Flovers keep calling her fox, but what I see she's more like a swan, every gestures she made was so satisfying to see, she almost like a ballerina, gentle and grand.

Her nipple pads came off, revealing her breast. I have never been so intimate to anyone in my life, yet right now I finally able to get into the hidden part of her personal world. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she neatly folded the dress and bras and set them aside.

“There,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a mix of challenge and shyness. “I'm nude now. Happy?” (PIC 7)

“Very much,” I replied, my heart beating faster, I couldn't even blink, my eyes are locked onto her breasts. There was something about seeing her like this, more relaxed and natural, that made the moment even more special. I gulped, while holding myself from doing anything stupid.

Round four. I guessed black, and won. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I said, my confidence somehow went unwavering.

I grinned, leaning closer to her. “Now, I dare you to make me as your lover tonight”.

PART 6 Without missing a beat, Saerom stood up, with bare naked body. Without a single word, she came to me and sat on my lap, facing me so closely. She kissed my lips, we ate each other lips and tongue like its a alcohol laced lollipop, it was sweet, sticky, intoxicating and I couldn't get enough of it. I was overwhelmed with all the feelings. Love, Lust and sense of loyalty filled my head all at once. She let out a little moan as I started to kiss her neck. I teased her by gently groped her breasts. she let out a little groan again, only turning me on more. I slowly started to kiss her down her chest, on her tits, sucking on her nipples. I kissed down to her tummy, while gripping hard on her thighs, then removed her underpants. I carried her on my shoulder like she was a doll. Her bare skin pressed against my chest and shoulder, they were so soft yet tender. Her body is truly the epitome of health. I laid her down on a sofa I had in the bar and I spread her legs out for me. I could see her bare pussy, open wide for me, they're perfectly shaved, with small labia and slightly pinkish. Some transparent liquid was oozing out from the precious hole, they looked almost like its begging me start stick in something into it.

I licked all the love juice that was oozing out, swallowed it, and gently bit her clit as she let out another moan. She was too perfect, too much of a goddess. she deserved the best this world could offer. My feelings to her has grown from a friend, to a fan and now the only thing I want in the world is to spend the rest of my life with her. I love her, I love her so much I could die at any moment. She started to moan louder as I licked and sucked hard. I put my fingers in her entrance and started pumping my 2 fingers into her at the same time. I curled up my fingers, making sure to hit her g-spot every time. I thrusted hard while my other hand rubbing her clit fast. I sucked her breast again, making sure all her sensitive parts are teased. Her breath hitched and she started to moan louder and finally her body convulsed wildly as she finally came. that's all I needed to know i was doing a good job. I used my hand to hold on to her hips and arched her body forward, so that we're now facing each other very closely.

PART 7 Her eyes met mine, we exchanged our breath from very close proximity and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. We then shared a kiss, turning all of our emotions into physical contact. Now that she knows I love her pits, I asked her if I could rub my dick onto her pits. She was shyly hesitant at first but she could not refuse it. She then sat on the floor raising her hands up while I stick my dick's tip on her pit fold and started rubbing it all over her pits(PIC8). I could feel the texture and the warmth from her lymph node, her pits actually enclaved deep enough to enclose my whole dick's tip. Fckkk suddenly I felt was going to come but I managed to hold it. I then moved to her back and asked her to squeeze my dick with her pits and inner arms like a sandwich. I knew she does workout regularly and that explained why her arms felt tight like a pussy. I rubbed my dick into her pits slits faster and faster, her sweat and my pre-cum made her pits extra wet and slimy as she clamped down even tighter and let out a moan "emmwahh", her moan was so cute that I finally couldn't hold it, "Ahh!! Saerom ahh!!" I spurted out my cement all over her pits and breast. My heart beat so fast that it could stop any moment and I was so lightheaded I thought I would faint, I have never felt so weak yet completed and happy in my life.

After that, she borrowed my bathroom to take a shower, while I cleaned up the mess we made on the bar's floor. When she was finished, she came out still fully naked, sitting on the bar's chair asking for a glass of scotch. "Really? more drinks??" I was baffled. "Of course! Drinking is number one!" with a smirk on her face(PIC 9). Looking at her breasts suddenly made my dick standing hard rock again, and it was clearly visible to her. Suddenly, she smiled naughtily and whispered, "Hey, wanna go another roulette round after this?" -End

[azullumi]

"baby, stay beside me a little longer" ; aventurine

premise — how you spend your day with him.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, domestic, not proofread, text messages, 1.7k words ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (hi, we don't mention the event fics we have to do hahaha)

note — i miss him and i had the urge to write skincare aventurine. 3 DAYS LEFT UNTIL HIS BANNER

morning

As sunlight streams through the window accompanied with the gentle chirping of the birds outside, there’s no guarantee that one of you always wakes up first before the other. Sometimes it’s him that wakes up first and sometimes it’s you—it occasionally depends if one of you has plans later on or has a free day.

“What’s on your schedule for today?” You ask him, watching him as he buttons his shirt. Daylight illuminates the room and the sound of leaves rustling outside as the breeze flies past fills your morning, albeit you are still laying in bed, not having the desire to move. Aventurine is the opposite of your state right at this moment—already fresh out of his bath (the faint scent of his soap clings to his skin), dressing into his work clothes, though his hair is still messy. Honey-dyed locks tousled, with some strands sticking to the back of his neck and some on his face.

“I have a client to interview this afternoon. It was scheduled for next week but they changed it to today.” There was a hint of frustration in his tone as he spoke. You could immediately tell that the reschedule caused some issues with his plans so you didn’t press on any further. “Will you be home late tonight then?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll be home early.”

“What do you want to eat for dinner?” You say, remembering that you had no plans for today so you’ll just be staying home the whole time. Aventurine puts on his blazer, humming as he thought for a moment, before he answers: “I was thinking of taking you out tonight.”

You beam a smile at him, watching as he fixes the mess out of his hair and sprays perfume on himself soon after, knowing that the scent of it will follow you while he’s gone. “Oh, really? Where?” However, he doesn’t answer but instead, walks towards you and bends down to your level to give you a quick peck on your lips.

“You’ll see.”

He’ll often ask for your help in tying his tie. He knows how to do it, even much better than you, but he prefers the messy work of your hands than his own. Some of his co-workers would point out how his tie looks messy as if he did it in a rush and while he may laugh and nod, he won’t do anything about it. To him, it’s a reminder of you.

MORNING LAZINESS. It just happens but it’s not always that it does—you’re there besides him still too sleepy and grumbling on not wanting to leave the bed yet and how could he refuse? Sure, your hold on him is not that tight and he could easily slip out of your grasp, and sure, you may be close to falling asleep again and you won’t notice if he leaves but your skin is warm and close, your hands are soft on his, and the sound of your breathing comforts him. How could he?

noon

Your middays are often spent separately—both of you accomplishing your own sets of responsibilities. Aventurine would occasionally send you messages asking if you have had lunch already, asking what you’re doing, and telling you about how everything is going for him. Although the conversation doesn’t last that long, always being interfered with by either someone or something.

Your phone buzzes and the screen lights up as you receive a new notification. You were expecting a nonsense reminder from one of your apps but instead, it was a message and it was from none other than your lover, Aventurine.

However, on rare occasions that the both of you are at home and have no set plans for the day, he’ll spend his time together with you. You want to go on a spontaneous date? Sure, he was going to ask you out anyways. Feeling lazy and just want to be in bed the whole day? That’s fine, he wasn’t planning on doing anything. . You want to do something together but not want to go out? Perhaps you can bake and try out this new recipe, that is if you have the needed ingredients at your home.

evening

Evenings are saved for the both of you, which means nothing related to work. It’s the only time of the day where you and he are free from any of your responsibilities—unless, of course, he still has some things to do but that rarely happens. He’ll often come home with a gift or a bouquet of flowers that you like; he’ll only answer you with, “Just because,” if ever you would ask him what’s the occasion. It’s just something that he does, something that you should get used to.

However, there are moments where you have to spend your night alone as he has to come home late and there are moments that you’ll wait for him and he’ll come home to find you asleep on the sofa. A pang of guilt hits him as he crouches in front of you, brushing a few strands away from your face and whispering an apology that only the moon could hear. He’ll carry you to bed soon after.

The way you spend your evenings with him can vary—it could be a game night between you two which will become heated due to how competitive the both of you can be, or a movie night wherein looking for what to watch can take a longer time than the movie itself, or just something simple and relaxing for the both of you.

“You always have so many interesting stories to tell.”

“Is it bad?” You answer him, worry lingering in your voice. You were telling him of how your day went and how you saw something fascinating when you went out earlier, and he was sitting behind you, drying your hair since you had just taken a bath. You could feel his fingers run through your hair, the dryer in hand as he pointed the nozzle towards the crown of your head. The air blowing from it feels warm—just enough to not feel like it’s going to burn off your scalp—and combined with the gentleness of his hand, it all feels comforting, soothing.

“No, it’s not. I just feel bad and perhaps,” He turns off the dryer and places it down beside him, “I also feel guilty.”

You immediately turn to him, eyebrows knitted as your expression warps into a mix of surprise and concern: “But why?”

He hesitates, averting away from your gaze, “I don’t have much to tell you, I don’t have exciting or interesting stories to say.” He’s afraid you’ll find him boring, that you’ll get tired of him but what he doesn’t realize is that you won’t, and you never will.

“That's completely okay. You don't need to have something to say all the time.” You’re fine with it—even if you have to sit in silence with him, even if the days are becoming repetitive and tiring, as long as you’re with him, as long as you feel his hand in yours, it will all be fine. You touch the side of his cheek, “I’m just happy to spend time with you and talk about anything, or nothing at all. How has your day been?”

He turns his head to look at you—an alluring pair of vibrant and pristine hues, a pool of clear and vivid richness hidden in the depths of his eyes meets your gaze once more; “Nothing much happened. I met some clients and helped them, had a short meeting, and just did my work.”

“You didn’t go to the casino?”

“I was planning to but I wanted to see you more.”

A soft laugh escapes from your lips: “Is that so?” And he only hums as an answer, leaning forward to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him before he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder. And you swear you hear him whisper the words, “I love you.”

Most likely has a nighttime skincare routine which he does with you (there’s no way his skin is that flawless and fair for no reason like you’re telling me that’s genetics???). He’ll be coming out of the bathroom with a clay mask or sheet mask on his face and he can’t speak because he doesn’t want to mess up the placement of the product and he’ll help you in putting yours on. The both of you on the bed with your robes on, hair either pushed back or tied, and there’s a pair of cucumber slices on your eyes along with a mask on your face.

He has trouble sleeping and it takes a lot for him to fall asleep—he’ll tire himself out, going on late night runs, exercise, drinking anything that could help him feel sleepy, anything. He’ll often spend his time tossing and turning while in bed and perhaps even counting sheep in his mind but somehow, just listening to your voice or the sound of your breathing makes it all easy for him. He’ll listen to you talk and tell stories and he’ll feel his eyes getting heavier in each second, as a warm and soft feeling envelops him like a blanket, and your voice will turn into a distant lullaby that guides him into slumber.

He wouldn’t even notice that he’s falling asleep in each second but maybe you do, maybe you’ll see the way he relaxes as his eyes threaten to close and his breathing comes steady, and maybe that’s why your voice keeps on getting softer until it turns into humming as you stroke his hair gently. He’ll apologize in the morning, telling you that perhaps he was so tired and he didn’t mean to fall asleep but you’ll assure him that it’s all okay.

Through the mundane things, in the boring days and the exciting ones, in days that you and him argue, in days that it all feels unbearable and suffocating, in every single moment with you, he’ll love you (tear him apart from skin to bones, see him for his heart, and you’ll notice your name carved into it).

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[rimunagenius]

Only Angel — K.M

❝ words : 1.5k ❞

❝ warnings : RPF!! , suggestive , body worship , jealous!Kate , fwb theme ❞ (dk if i forgot anything, if i did lmk!)

❝ rimunagenius speaks : sorry this took a literal fortnite to complete LMAO (pls idek if this good :// )…anyways i have summer school bc o my fuck ass chem teacher soooo lowk might take a while to put other stuff out but i’ll try i promise!! ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Kate noticed you on the baseline at every single one of your home games. Your black and gold cheer uniform fitting you insanely perfect. Your short skirt and your form fitting top. You looked so pretty, so beautiful, so angelic, you were truly a distraction sometimes. The way you moved hypnotizing her whenever she wasn't focused on her team. 

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

It took about five months of dancing around the physical attraction you both had towards the other before making what was happening between you two something. You both had amazing futures set out for you, establishing yourselves in your sports. You were on track to become a professional cheerleader, NFL cheerteams already inviting you to camps. 

Kate was optimistic that she'd become a prospect in the upcoming draft. Deciding to continue to put all he focus into basketball. So why on earth were you both suddenly trying to pursue something that could be nuclear to your careers. 

Kate had been buried between your legs for the better part of an hour. "Oh my god, Kate. I love you." The initial shock in the declaration immediately set a new tone in the atmosphere that you two had spent months building up. 

Her lips paused the attack on you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips, now accepting the consequences of your own actions. "Im sorry, what?" There was no denying the cultivation of feelings you two began to nurse. There was no point in lying to herself that she didn't feel the same way. 

"Forget it, just please, don't stop." You squirmed under her gaze. Now growing increasingly uncomfortable with the look she seemed to be giving you, and now uncomfortable with the abrupt confession. 

"You know that I can't just drop basketball." She sighed, her forefingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The frustration that immediately began to build within your chest, at her action of dismissing your confession. 

"Alright, whatever. Forget about it, didn't mean it anyways." You sighed heavily, suggestively spreading your legs, signalling her to continue, foregoing any act of bashfullness and self preservation you had to give. 

"No, because we had this conversation. I need to focus on basketball right now. Not to sound rude but you're not in the picture yet. I'm pretty sure I'm not even in the picture for you're life right now." The short tone she took with you was something almost foreign. 

You didn't like the tone, rolling your eyes at her. Suddenly the small smirk you grew accustomed to in this scene, inching it's way onto her face. So over the awkwardness but totally enthralled by the way she manages to manipulate the situation to make  it seem less harsh than it really is, annoys you. She’s so good at making you forget about why you were mad at her when she has that look on her face. Chuckling softly, looking away to your left, you grabbed her blonde hair at the back of her head and shoved her head back down where you both were needing. 

The slight aggression and dominance you took elicited a gravel moan from the depths of her throat. The reverberation could be felt everywhere. You guys just couldn't help but feel the way you felt for each other. 

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

Kate didn't know what it was but the feeling brewing in her chest from the sight of you with another girl had her on a whole new level. You guys never put a label on what it was between the both of you. You guys just had a common ground.

Thats why she didn't know why she was pounding the living shit our of your door at two in the morning. Team outing at a local bar in Iowa City, invite extended to you from your mutual friends, turned into you leaving with another girl. She was your friend, deciding you were tired of your shoes, opting to go home and drink your own beer without people bothering you and asking if you two were single. Seemed like the most optimal solution. Until you realized that the pounding on your door signaled you forgot to tell Kate. 

Kate had felt the anger and anxiety build up in her the longer her fist repeatedly connected with the wooden door of your apartment. The dread of finding another girl in the apartment where she thought only you two seemed to find yourself in more often then not was unsettling. Mainly because she thought this was going somewhere but you just called it casual. She had you. 

"Jesus Christ, Kate. It's two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?" You looked at her perplexed, the cold breeze hitting you from the hallway. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crop top and the short sleep shorts you made yourself comfortable in now suddenly sounding like the worst idea. 

"Who did you leave with?" Is she fucking serious right now? You looked at her like she had suddenly grown two more heads. 

"Are you serious? That's why you came banging on my door at two in the fucking morning? Because you wanted to know who I left the bar with?" The animosity in your voice growing as she continued to keep the straight face she had since you opened the door, but moved on her feet in anticipation. 

"Yeah. Was she a friend or...?" You genuinely laughed at the way she was acting. Two nights ago you had confessed that you loved her accidentally, but truthfully, and all she could say was you weren't what she envisioned herself with in the future. Atleast not yet. So you both decided to continue doing what you have been for the last two months. 

"Like you care?" You scoffed, walking away from the door, letting her in. She closed the door behind her, kicking her shoes off, and hanging her jacket up on the hook next to yours. You walked through the whole apartment, knowing she’d follow. She did. You didn't say a single thing but just look at her while she saw no girl had been in your apartment. 

"She was my friend, Kate. She was in one of my classes and we came here for and she only stayed for like twenty minutes before she walked to her floor." You now stood in the middle of your room, a room Kate had been all too familiar with. 

"That's it?" Kate's brows raised, her body inching closer to yours. 

"Yes. I'm not easy you know." You rolled her eyes, unintentionally getting a rise out of Kate. For some reason she seemed to like when you had an attitude with her. "Don't even think about it, Kate." You looked at her, the knowing gaze her eyes held that your eyes were trained to remember. 

"Why not? You’re always easy for me." Her voice dropping and becoming faint as she slowly reached one hand to your waist. She knew you’d let her have her way. You always did. You were just equally as dirty and needy for Kate as she was for you. She couldn’t take you anywhere…she loved it. She got to have you in private any way she wanted.

"You're seriously asking that after you just stormed into my apartment thinking I was sleeping with another woman when that wasn't the deal we made. The lack of boundaries you seem to have." You sighed as her other hand connected with your waist, pulling you into her chest while her lips started their attack on your neck. 

"Mhm." She hummed softly, planting an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. 

"Kate, are you serious?" You were genuinely shocked that she just forewent her previous accusation against you, and suddenly thinks she'll get lucky tonight. It was slowly working, dammit.

"Why are you still talking, baby?" Her hands on your waist slipped underneath the hem of your crop top, her cold, ringclad fingers, slowly traveling the familiar path that brought her so much pleasure. Her eyes now looking into yours, she smiled before looking at your lips. 

Who were you to resist her when she looked this good? You probably should have but there was no going back after you connected your lips. It didn't take more than two seconds to have her slowly backing you up against the side of your bed, making you fall onto your back. 

You inched your way towards the headboard, you resting neatly on the pillows as you watched her discard her shirt. She got onto the bed, working her way from you bare legs, all the way up your stomach. The way she crawled slowly above you, ravishing you before she intended to tear you apart was so sultry and almost cinematic that you couldn't even breathe. 

Later on, the talk needed to be had. You both would have to unanimously decide to commit to one another. There was nothing casual about the way her lips traveled to every part of your body, with small chants of appraisal leaving her lips, ghosting your skin with goosebumps in their wake...nothing casual about it. 

"You're like an actual angel, baby. Can't get enough of you." Her lips barely articulated the words that she desperately needed to get off her chest, as they tried to kiss you everywhere all at once. You almost didn't catch it when she kissed up the apex of your thighs, mumbling 'mine' over and over again. 

In her eyes, you were literally an angel, needing to be worshipped.

She's an angel

My only angel

[philistiniphagottini]

I wish for late night conversations over coffee or tea with Al-Haitham as his wife (so fem reader). Where it progress from snacking on cut fruits to eating a selection of nuts with coffee/tea to tea snacks and more tea as the conversation never stops until we fall asleep cuddled into each other.

(Imagine Kaveh waking up to that. Dunno if he’s happy for them or mildly annoyed at Al-Haitham)

(Doesn’t have to be exactly like this, I leave it to your artistic discretion)

Hi, thanks for dropping by with a request! This is just a bit of fluff and there really is no plot, I hope you don't mind. I wrote this last night when I couldn't sleep and this helped. Hope you enjoy~

cw. fluff, established relationship, female reader, chubby reader, minors DO NOT interact

“Can’t sleep?”

You paused just as you were about to take a sip of coffee, the rim of the mug pressed to your lips as steam curled around your warm cheeks. The chair you sat in softly creaked as you shifted, craning your head and peering down the hallway of your humble home as the familiar voice of your husband drifted into your ear. He stepped from the seconds only a few seconds later, his footfalls light as he joined you in the kitchen. You hummed softly in response to his question as you took a big sip of coffee. It was just a touch on the hot side, making you feel incredibly warm on this stuffy, Sumeru night. 

You placed your cup down with a soft clink as Alhaitham invited himself to make his own hot drink. It made the corners of your lips twitch into a small smile as you reached for the plate of delicately sliced fruit that you had meticulously prepared as your midnight snack and silently bit into your food as you watched Alhaitham move around the kitchen with a lazy stare. It was only when he sat down in the chair across from you did you decide to speak up, the taste of fruit lingering on the back of your tongue as you swallowed with an audible gulp.

“And what about you, Mr Scribe?” you inquired. “Why are you up at such a late hour?”

You pushed the plate of food in Alhaitham’s direction as he reached for it, a murmured ‘thank you’ falling from his parted lips before he took a bite. He hummed in thought as he swallowed his mouth full of food and you were eager to stuff another piece of fruit into your mouth and idly chew as Alhaitham’s voice filled the silence. 

“Your side of the bed was cold” Alhaitham replied. 

You huffed loudly, eyes dragging over to the clock on the wall. You squinted against the flickering lights on the wall as you tried to decipher what time it was. The answer made you run your hands through your unkempt hair. 

“Huh. Didn’t realise it was that late” you mused with a soft whisper. 

Though you weren’t sure why you were whispering. It’s not like your housemate, Kaveh, would stir tonight anyway. He had come home late tonight in another drunken stupor and promptly passed out in his room. He tended to sleep like a log and you wouldn’t hear him complaining until the morning, when he was in desperate need of your hangover remedy to ease his troubles. 

“Is something on your mind?” Alhaitham asked before taking a sip from his mug.

You mimicked his actions, the golden band around your ring finger flickering in the dim light. Alhaitham’s matching ring flickered back. It took a moment to ponder his question, considering the best way to answer it. It seemed a little silly to admit that there was nothing particular on your mind. It just seemed tonight your brain didn’t want to shut off. Your thoughts were a little jumbled. You were reminiscing on the past yet also contemplating the future. It kept you tossing in bed for a while and you had retreated out here when sleep eluded you. That was hours ago and you still didn’t feel tired enough to attempt to try and sleep again. 

“Anything and everything” you finally replied.

You took another piece of fruit and frowned. You were running out of snacks. You pushed your chair out, intent on getting up and fetching more but Alhaitham was already on the move, standing from his seat and heading to the pantry in search of more treats. Your eyes sparkled when he returned with a selection of nuts to compliment your coffee. 

“That’s a broad topic” Alhaitham said as he filled the plate with more food. “Care to narrow it down?”

You took a moment to think, tapping your fingers against your plump lips. “How do you fall asleep at night?”

“Pretty comfortably next to my wife” he stated quite simply

You rolled your eyes as a loud snort bubbled up your throat. “Okay, smooth talker, would you like to propose a topic then?”

Alhaitham quirked a bemused eyebrow as you took another long sip of your hot coffee and added:

“Can be anything. As long as it tires me out.”

That was how your long conversation with Alhaitham started. The more you engaged with him the more relaxed you started to feel. Time slipped away from you as you indulged in midnight snacks, coffee and deep conversations. It left you feeling a little light headed as the shadows slowly started to creep away from the rays of light threatening to spill over the horizon. By the time the conversation reached a natural conclusion, you were feeling exhausted and tired enough to give sleep another try.

A giddy smile pulled on your lips as Alhaitham dragged you over to the couch, your bodies pressed and tangled as you squeezed both of your bodies on the old sofa. You ended up half sprawled across Alhaitham as he lay beneath you one arm encircled around your plump waist as his free hand dragged the throw rug over the back of the couch and draped it over you. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing a soft sigh of content as his natural smell filled your senses with a hazy lull. Your eyelashes fluttered over your cheeks as they slipped close, arms snaking around his waist as you held him closer.

“We haven’t talked like that for a while” you mumbled softly.

A soft smile tugged at Alhaitham’s lips as he threaded his fingers through your silky tresses of hair, tucking the long strands behind your ear before lazily massaging them against your scalp. A light noise stirred in his throat as his warm breath puffed against your skin.

“You sure can talk a lot” Alhaitham joked, his tone flat like he was making a statement. 

You hummed in agreement. “It’s fun talking to you” you mumbled, hot breath tickling his throat as you snuggled closer in his comforting embrace. “We don’t do this often anymore. We should do it again. Right?”

The more tired you got, the less sense you started to make. But Alhaitham knew what you were trying to convey.

“We should” Alhaitham agreed. 

He pressed his lips to your forehead as you fell deeper into the lull of sleep, mind teetering just on the fine edge of unconsciousness as he whispered into your hair.

“Get some rest.”

You grunted softly. “You can explain to Kaveh why we’re hogging the couch, when he wakes.”

"If he wakes" Alhaitham corrected before planting another kiss to your forehead. "Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.”

[alllgator-blood]

Okay I promise my next post will be the angst comic part 4 but FIRST. THE ONE AND ONLY THING I SHIP

LITERALLY THE SECOND PERSON WHO GUESSED THE PAIRING GOT IT CORRECT??? THAT WAS FAST. This is a situation where I have to go "okay hear me out" because it makes 0 sense to anyone but me. This is really long and very dependent on my au comic nobody but me has read, but the TL;DR is:

I feel like they'd be a good pairing because shamura loves to learn but doesn't care about material goods, and mystic seller is used to all gods talking to them only BECAUSE they offer material goods. So when somebody actually wanted to know about *them* personally and what it's like to be a weird angel thing, the two established a bond. Also they're both agender and most likely asexual AND don't seem to be socially aware despite being ancient wise beings that know seemingly everything, so they understood each other like instantly.

I have a lot of sketches of them hanging out but here's a shitpost sketch thing I made AAAAAGES ago

Okay so from an in-game standpoint, mystic seller pops up to tell you how the post-game works with purgatory and all that, and introduces the purged bosses. Really ratau could've done that as the established Tutorial Guy, or even narinder but there IS the chance that you killed both of them (lol) so mystic seller is the unkillable, all-knowing angel that shows up to say "you suck at killing people. The bishops are trapped in purgatory, you know. You should probably do something about that".

But from like a CHARACTER standpoint what do they stand to gain? They're not even from your dimension so why should they care, they're just here for your god tears? From the dialogue about the bishops we can see that they don't really give a shit about any of them, EXCEPT! SHAMURA? Mystic seller doesn't feel emotions like "our kind" does but one of the only times they do, it's to say it's a shame what happened to shamura. They also say they didn't barter with them much, because they "needed little".

SO THAT HAD ME THINKING. My au comic (which is hundreds of sketched panels and the full thing will never see the light of day unless I post it unfinished. Eugh) is about shamura going around chronicling everything they witnessed during the time they were alive, and they notice everyone is like...selfish. Trying to be the last god standing. Really obsessed with trinkets and charms, so some of the gods just go around harvesting relics from the other gods and using their powers to survive a little longer. Shamura has visions of the future of siblings they don't know they have yet, so they try to be friendly with the rest of the pantheon to form a family and it always bites them in the ass, so they have to kill them.

Eventually they end up with all these fuckin god tears and they're thinking "what do I even do with these? Nobody wants them and everyone has them", and BOOM. MYSTIC SELLER JUMPSCARE. They do the whole introduction where they say they have loot in exchange for god tears, shamura just drops off the tears and is like "I don't care about trinkets, bye" and the seller is like. What Thy Fuck. Because every other god is pretty adamant on getting something good in exchange for the tears. So they call them back and ask if there's ANYTHING at all they want. And shamura, being the self-proclaimed wisdom god, just asks the seller to talk about themself for a while, who's just like okkaaayyy?? Nobody else ever asked what it's like to be a bizarre circle headed angelic creature that collects magical bits and pieces, but shamura LOVES to learn, and the two bonded that way. Shamura would bring the mystic seller god tears, the seller would tell them a story, they'd write it down to put in their archives and the conversations eventually got more personal when the stories started to run out. They both realized they don't understand how other people work, but they knew how *each other* worked so they could kinda learn how to function as normal people with each other's observations.

When I say I ship them I mostly mean like a QPP situation because I think they'd be good partners in the most autistic asexual way possible, where they don't make out sloppy style or outright say "I love you", but they have an understanding of one another that doesn't apply to anyone else really. They don't have to rely on conventional relationship stuff to know the other one cares deeply for them in the most nonverbal, oddly specific way possible. I know shamura's the smart one but I really feel like that extends to everything except understanding how people work, hence all the stuff that happened with narinder and the rest of the family. So finding someone else outside the pantheon who is quite literally inhuman, otherworldly, genderless and uninterested in Carnal Desire would definitely make them feel the closest thing to romantic love that they can. Also, since mystic seller lets the gods name them, shamura named them "sunshine" after hearing one of their followers singing that "you are my sunshine" song to the person they loved the most. I always liked how shamura has their little moon crown and the mystic seller is depicted as the sun in some of the art? They go together well is what I'm saying and I'm kinda surprised nobody has done anything of them yet.

I WILL SAY I have angst planned for them once I do the introductory comics, it has to do with how narinder's imprisonment happened literally right in front of where mystic seller sets up shop, so canonically it's safe to assume they watched shamura get lobotomized in real time :')

But for now...I must go back to kallamar angst cause I've been putting off posting this part. It gets very mentally ill very quickly so I needed to balance it out with fluff......

[lunarw0rks]

Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.

The Things We Say // 141 Drabble

Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.

Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n

A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.

⋘ » ☆ « ⋙

AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.

Price

One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.

Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.

His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?

The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.

He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.

❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.

John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.

But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.

To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.

John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.

—

❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.

❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.

What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.

In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞

—

The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.

His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.

❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.

The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.

His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.

John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 

Simon

Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.

It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.

❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.

Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.

❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 

Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.

He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.

It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.

He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?

❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.

—

Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.

Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.

You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.

Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.

Soap

Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.

❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.

He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.

He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.

The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.

❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.

You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.

❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.

Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.

He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.

You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.

❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.

❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.

You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.

Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.

—

It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.

❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.

❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.

Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.

If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.

With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.

The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.

All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.

Gaz

Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.

You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 

❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.

❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.

He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.

It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 

But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.

His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.

—

❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.

Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.

—

❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.

What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.

❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.

It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.

Alejandro

Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.

What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.

❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞

You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.

Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.

❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞

Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.

It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞

—

Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.

You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.

About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.

The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.

The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.

—

The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.

Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.

König

There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 

You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞

With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞

He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?

❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.

How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.

He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.

Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.

The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.

—

❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.

He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.

He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.

König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.

Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.

If you made it this far - THANK YOU!

[yannaryartside]

CARMY NEVER WANTED TO CREATE A MENU WITH SYD.

AND WHY THAT IS THE CORE THEME OF THE SHOW

PART 1: THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIEVES

So, one of the bases of creating an efficient character arc is to give the character something they want, and something they need. In the pursuit of getting what they want, the theme of the show and obstacles will show them what they need. Most of the time, they need healing from an emotional wound that prevents them from growing into the ultimate version of themselves, capable of winning the challenges of the story. I will try to explore Carmy's wound and, more importantly, the lie that created that wound.

In 'The negative trait thesaurus" by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, it reads:

"Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie-an untruth that the character believes about himself."

When I started therapy (disclaimer: this is not professional advice; I am just talking from how I interpreted all of this), I was introduced to the concept of "limiting beliefs:" lies we have told ourselves about our own nature or the nature of the world. The most difficult beliefs to leave behind are those established in our early childhoods, and we told ourselves those lies to make sense of the world, to make peace with realities we were not equipped to comprehend yet. 

Some examples of lies people belive:

"I am too stupid to learn anything; my teacher said so" "It was my fault that I was molested." "I am a bad person for wanting a different life."

When people believe these lies, they will act accordingly, maybe attracting situations that hurt them but keeping the lie active in their lives. They may self-sabotage or create bonds with people who also believe the lie, even if it doesn't seem this way. 

In some cases, people may develop complete personalities or behaviors to prove the lie wrong, but deep down, they still believe in the lie. Carmy falls into this last category. This is where we find the most contradictory parts of his personality, how he can act shy and insecure in some instances and appear confident and even aggressive in others. 

Long post underneath.

THE RESENT OF A MOTHER:

We can only assume here because I think Storer is gonna let us know more about this soon, but I think I got an idea of this wound when I saw the only moment Carmy was alone with Donna on "Fishes."

I have a lot of things to say about Donna herself, but let's begin with the obvious: the conversation in this scene had little to do with the dinner itself. This was a woman stating that she felt alone and not valued, probably due to being abandoned by her husband and having to overwork herself at the beef to support her 3 kids, all while being a single mother. We don't know if this feeling of abandonment is something she has carried since childhood, but in the state of current womanhood, it wouldn't be uncommon. The work of women (especially mothers), particularly the emotional labor, is rather invisible and not valued at all.

But again, this is something she has used as fuel to resent her kids, who, at the end of the day, didn't ask to be here. Her anger has to go somewhere since she cannot direct it toward the people that ctually caused it. To get to the point:

THE BEARZATTO SYBLING DYNAMIC

Carmy said, "You are not alone; I am here with you." (This kind of comes back to telling Syd she was not alone at the end of the season.) This scene is about a kid trying to communicate to his mother that he loves her and trying desperately to connect with her, to get her to express her affection for him as well.

It tells me that growing up, he felt like he had to "earn" her affection. Donna likes to make her kids feel guilty about her unhappiness, so the kids feel that they are constantly walking on shells because they think their mother hates them, or at least that she resents them and that it is their responsibility to fix it.

In the scene, Carmy asked,

"What is so hard, Mom?"

I think what he was actually asking is, "What is so hard about being with us, to love us? What did we do to you that made you resent us this way?" He is asking because he wants to know, to finally understand. Why do you drink, Mom? Why do you yell? Why do you say such hurtful things?

When she answers, "Nobody makes things beautiful for me," you can see in his face the disconnection. He knows he can't do anything about that.

Then, a crucial part in the scene occurs when Donna calls him "Michael, " which indicates that the only one of her children who could make her feel happy was Michael, or at least that is how the other two kids felt. You can see the hurt in Carmy's eyes in the scene because this answer dismisses his effort to connect to his mother in his own right. She asks him to just leave. He offers to wait to connect with her. Then, it comes to the most chilling moment on the scene, the "we have a problem" using his full name, with resentment in every word. She hugs him while crying, kisses him, and then slaps him.

This is rejection. There is a book called "The Five Wounds of the Soul": wich are Rejection, Abandonment, Humiliation, Betrayal, and Injustice. I think Carmy's wound is rejection, for never earning his mother's love, particularly comparing himself to Michael.

Michael took responsibility for the Beef, finally giving their mom a break. It was Michael's job to make sure everyone was having a good time, to compensate for the discomfort that caused being in Donna's presence, to make sure all of them stayed as a family, which was Donna's intention, so Michael thought he had to make that happen for her. Therefore, Michael is the only one of her kids who succeeds and makes her happy. We know Donna rejects Natalie and Carmy. About Natalie, we can write another whole essay.

THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIVES

According to this scene, I think Carmy thinks that her mother didn't love him because he is not Michael; in fact, he is the most "not like Michael" someone could be. He was shy and stuttered and didn't have friends or girlfriends, comparable to Michael's ability to control every room he was in. Carmy was sensible and no macho alfa as Michael presented himself to be. Carmy left home and the family business, and both Michael and Donna expressed that they feel like he thinks he is better than them. Michael admitted later to admiring Carmy's work in Copenhagen, but Donna never did. carmy grew up having to live with the crumbles of Donna's attention that Michael left behind, wondering every day what was so wrong with him that made her reject him, and wondering what he could do to change that.

The lie that Carmy belives, could be sumarize this way:

I need to earn people's love. I need to always go the extra mile, doing the most possible at all times to earn people's love.

This all goes back to his trauma with Michael. It goes back to his career as a chef and how he became the best. He didn't need to succeed on a larger scale in the culinary industry to earn Michael's respect and love; he needed to be the best in the world, so he did that. He judges his own social abilities, comparing them to Miachae's. He left that promising career only because of Michae's death. He got the girlfriend Michael wanted for him (not saying it was the only reason, but it was there).

PART 2: WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH SYDNEY?

Well, what does a person who feels they always need to do the most? They do the most. I want to bring you back to the moments Carmy had to develop menu ideas with Syd on s1 and s2.

When Syd suggested items for the menu in s1, he gave her an inconclusive, not enthusiastic "maybe."

When she had to actually cook the thing for him to approve, he tried to make her feel small about it. He felt the need to remind her that she was "impatient and green," according to her previous bosses. He commented about her possibly ruining the flow by using time to cook her recipe. Yikes all around, but the core here is that he was treating her like an enemy, like competition, while she was trying to save the restaurant with what they had on hand to use the most efficient solution.

Then, when Carmy tries the dish and feels stunned by it, he has to make an ambiguous excuse on the fly and just finishes every chance of them using the recipe by saying, "is not ready yet"

And what does he do next? He goes to show the crew a recipe that is extremely complicated for the level they are operating at currently—they said so themselves. I think the recipe is a variation of Donna's butter chicken recipe. To put a nail on that coffin of his intentions to earn her love and approval at the end of it all.

But why does he do all this? Because he needs to be the hero, subconsciously, he is still that small kid begging for acceptance and love; he must go the extra mile. He cannot accept Sydney's help and partnership, because that will take away from him earning what he wants on his own merit.

In S2, he seems unenthusiastic about starting the menu in the first place. Then Claire comes along, and he tries to make it work with Syd and the menu, but I think he subconsciously thanks the universe for not having to go to his core wound. That is what self-sabotage is. That is why he bailed on the food tour with Syd, using such a stupid excuse as helping somebody else move out and never mentioning it again. He never asked her what she liked or what ideas she thought of. For most of the creative process, Syd is alone, working on her own creative crisis. The menu ends up being like two recipes they made in collaboration and then all of his family's traditional recipes. It is two of Syd's recipes and the rest of Carmy's. Then, desserts Marcus did on his own. The collaboration was superficial at best.

All of this creates the core theme of the show. The Bear was once a chaotic place (like their childhood home) that needs to evolve into an efficient, peaceful place built on love, support, and mutual collaboration like a functional family should be. Sydney is the member of this found family that forces Carmy to confront his core wound and learn he can actually be good enough while still accepting help. Therapy probably will play an important part in this theme, alongside with Carmy learning there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, that earning your parent's love is not something a kid can do.

Thankyou for reading. Gif and images are not mine.

[cambion-companion]

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

~

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)

✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.

canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.

The taste of intimacy is acrid.

It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.

Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.

"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."

Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.

Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.

He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.

But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.

This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."

You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.

And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.

Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.

And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.

"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."

Shit. Shit.

"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"

"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."

A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.

Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.

"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."

You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.

"For?"

The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."

"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."

Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.

But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.

He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.

Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.

But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.

Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.

"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."

A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.

You must know something better than him.

Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.

The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.

"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."

There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.

You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.

"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"

Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.

You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.

You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.

The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.

But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.

He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.

When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.

His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"

You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.

"I'm quite relieved."

[greg-montgomery]

i saw your post about jealous!hotch, so I was wondering if you can write something where there isn't an established relationship between hotch and bau!reader (yet ;))), the reader is a huge fan of an actor/character (kind of like how we, hotch girls, fangirl over Aaron 🤭) and Hotch got jealous whenever he hears her talks about the actor/character and then the reader was wondering why he's acting unusual, (like he would mutter something to himself like how he's much better than the man the reader talks about but they don't hear it, or he's suddenly not in a mood, etc.) and the team knows why he's acting unusual (he's jealous) and they're entertained watching the both of them be oblivious, and hotch kind of slipped or something that revealed his feelings for the reader🤭 if you can't write it, then it's okay!! feel free to change anything however you want<33

hehe what if aaron was jealous of thomas gibson himself 🤭🤭🤭

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“I am definitely taller than him.”

“What was that, Hotch?” you asked, after hearing him mumble something under his breath.

“Nothing,” he said more clearly this time. “Go back to your very important conversation with Garcia. The meeting doesn’t start until ten, so you have plenty of time.”

“Thank you,” you answered with a smile, pretending you didn’t notice his sarcasm.

“So he’s tall and respectful? What else would a girl need?” Penelope swooned, picking up from where you two had left off.

“I’m telling you! Penny, I swear…Greg is my dream man.”

You had turned your spinning chair to the side so you could face Garcia, and missed the way Aaron rolled his eyes at your words.

“And they got married the day they met?” she asked, her hand on her chest.

“Yes! It’s so romantic. And don’t even get me started about all the physical touch. It’s definitely his love language.”

“Ugh…He sounds perfect.”

“He is.”

“So are you gonna show me how he looks like?”

“Right!” you exclaimed. “I have a whole album of pictures of him. Wait.”

You pulled out your phone and found a screenshot from the episode of “Dharma & Greg” you were watching the night before. “That’s my baby.”

Aaron should be feeling lucky you were still turned to the side and couldn’t see the way he was desperately trying to take a peek at your phone.

“Oh,” Penelope said. But it wasn’t the kind of ‘oh’ you were expecting.

“What?” you asked disappointed. “Don’t tell me he isn’t hot. He’s literally a doll.”

“No, I…” she said. She seemed startled. “He is…um…really good looking. But…Y/N…Do you not notice something in particular about him?”

“Like what?”

“Tall. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Cheekbones.”

“Yeah, like I said: my dream man,” you simply said, unable to understand where she was going with this.

“He’s not all that.”

That was Aaron.

“How would you know?” you were quick to ask him.

“I googled this Thomas Gibson guy who played Greg,” he said, acting casual. “He’s average at best.”

“He is not average,” you defended him.

“I can’t tell which one of you is more stupid,” Penelope said softly, mostly to herself.

“What?” you both replied at the same time.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just remembered…I have to go make a phone call.”

Once you were left alone with your boss you crossed your arms against your chest and furrowed your brows. “Average…”

“He’s just some guy.”

“He’s not. He’s the most handsome man in the world,” you said.

“Sure.”

At his last word, you got up from your seat and walked so you could stand right in front of him with a smirk.

“What?”

“You sound almost jealous of him.”

“Why would I be jealous of him?”

“I don’t know, Hotch,” you replied, your smirk getting even wider. “Why would you?”

He stared at the picture of your celebrity crush he had previously googled. “He has nothing I should be jealous of. I mean my hair is better, and I’m pretty sure I’m taller.”

“I knew that was what you said earlier!”

“Shut up.”

You giggled and tilted your head looking at him. The way he said those two words almost reminded you of Greg.

“You kind of look like him.”

“I don’t see it,” he said, taking a glance at his phone again.

“I think I do.” You smiled softly.

Maybe your dream man was your grumpy, stubborn, and very very adorable boss after all.

[muddyorbsblr]

everybody's watching him…but he's looking at you

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: morning after 'after hours visits'

Summary: Old scars start hurting once again in the wake of your brazen and disrespectful visitor from the night before, and Tom's there to comfort you…on and off the field

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, exit stage left); unprotected p in v sex; morning sex; insecure Reader in the first scene; language; sleazy pervy teammates [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "He moved his large hand" and ends at "nothing but a distant memory"

You and Tom were once again woken up by the blaring of your alarm filling the room, your boyfriend adorably groaning before tightening his arm around you in a near perfect repeat performance of yesterday morning.

"Do you have to be at the briefing room early again today?" he grumbled, his fingertips tracing up and down along your spine. "Draw names again?"

"No…" you sighed, your tone immediately making him tense up.

"Sweetheart?" He tilted your head to look up at him, his sleepy eyes gradually becoming more alert as he met your gaze. He moved your hair away from your face, tucking the stubborn front strands behind your ear. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept."

"I couldn't," you blurted out, wincing the second the words came out of your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

There was a lump at your throat so large you could barely choke out the words. You already felt like shit making him worry about you like this, you didn't want to make it worse.

"Please talk to me, my love," he whispered, tracing this thumb along your lower lip before bringing you closer to press a kiss to your forehead. "I won't much help if I'm flying blind. Something's eating at you and--"

"Why aren't you tired of me yet?" The words just flew out of your mouth, your voice tiny and if you were being completely honest with yourself…you were embarrassed that you'd even allowed the question to take over your thoughts to the point of sleeplessness. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have--"

Before you could say anything else, he tightened his arm around you and sat up, positioning you so that you were sitting on his thighs.

"I should have seen it," he whispered, concern filling his eyes as he traced the lines of your face. "That woman's words from last night, they got to you. Affected you in a way neither of us thought of preparing for."

"Sweetie, this isn't on you." You did your best to just wave off the conversation, placing your hands on his shoulders and trying to work at the now tense muscles. "I know we've been through this before, we don't have to do it again, I shouldn't have said any--"

"Stop." He wrapped his hands around your wrists, stopping you from what you were doing. "It doesn't matter if we've had this conversation before, if we have to, then we'll have it again. As many times as you need." He gave a quick tug and your chests were pressed together, his arms snaking around your back and offering you no escape. "I love you." He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Only you. You know that, right?"

"I do, I really do. I just--I didn't realize how bad what happened last night fucked me up until I realized I couldn't close my eyes without reliving…" You took a shaky breath, the memories of the last serious relationship you had before Tom trying to drown you. "Without reliving what happened before. I mean…if I had a nickel every time a would-be homewrecker knocked on my boyfriend's hotel room door dressed in lingerie, I'd have two nickels. And that's just the ones that I know about."

He didn't say anything in return. He just proceeded to press light kisses across your face, holding you tighter against him. "My sweet goddess," he whispered into your skin, sighing when he'd kissed his way to your lips. "No one will ever succeed in luring me away from you. If you only knew how in every moment I have to myself, all I can think about is having you with me again…" He kissed along your collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name and declarations of love with every kiss.

"God why do you even put up with me I can't be that good in bed--" You let out a yelp as he flipped your positions on the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a soft thud.

"You should know by now that nobody gets to talk about the love of my life like that. Even you, sweetheart." He latched his lips onto the spot between your neck and shoulder that had you weak and squirming beneath him. "I've known since before our first night together, before you first kissed me, that I would spend my future loving you. Regardless of how you felt for me. I resigned myself to the fact that part of me was forever yours before you ever let me share your bed."

"Sweetie…" How was it that he somehow always knew how to draw you back from that dangerous ledge your mind often went to? "How are you not sick of handling my stupid little moments yet?"

"Firstly, they're not stupid. I would never belittle your fears like this," he mumbled into your neck, working his arm underneath you to lift your hips off the bed and pull you closer as you writhed underneath him. "And secondly…I quite like handling you." You felt him smirking against your skin at the squeal that hitched at the back of your throat. "Comforting you, loving you, is not and will never be a chore for me."

As he captured your lips in another soft, slow kiss, his words from last year began to echo in the back of your mind all over again. I know you're not ready yet, but I want you to know that I am. I've always been.

The guilt sat heavy in your heart knowing that you knew exactly where he was and where he wanted to go, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to stop looking at your life in complete disbelief. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It happened before, what was stopping the universe from making it happen again?

"I'm still scared that one day I'm gonna wake up and you've disappeared," you confessed when he pulled away, inwardly wincing at how pathetic the words made you feel. "I haven't been as afraid the last few years but last night…it brought all those fears back to the surface I mean what if I wasn't here when she showed up--"

"Then I would have told her that I'm in a happily committed relationship and I have no need for anyone else. I would have turned her away," he said, answering your unfinished question. He laid you back down flat on the bed, proceeding to kiss his way down your body, stopping when his lips hovered over your heart. "I need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. That I'm yours for as long as I live. You're the last woman I'm going to love."

You inwardly cursed at yourself for still being unable to say the words, the sentiment still refusing to move past the lump in your throat. I'm on the same page with you. I want to be yours for the rest of my life. Can I keep you?

Instead you lifted a shaky hand to weave through his short dark blond curls, finding yourself breathing a touch easier when you heard him sighing in contentment at your touch. "You should know I feel the same way. I'm no good with words but I'm getting there I'm trying I really am--"

"You don't have to say anything right now, sweetheart. When you're ready, and only when you're ready, I will be right here with you. I always will." 

He moved his large hand down the side of your body, curling around your knee to hook your leg around his waist. Your moans began to fill the room when he lowered his head and captured your nipple between his lips, licking and sucking it into a stiff peak. "What're you--"

"What time do you have to start wakeup calls?"

The words threw you in for a loop, your mind stumbling and scrambling to recall your morning schedule. Briefing room by 8, players should be in the field by 7:45, twenty to thirty minutes to run across the hotel and get to the other three players assigned to me…

"7:15," you said between heaving breaths, letting out another moan when he repeated his attentions on your other breast.

"Then we have time…" he mumbled, kissing his way back up to your lips, a devilish grin painted across his devastatingly handsome features. "We'll leave this room together and I'll go to the field, then you can go start the rest of your wakeup calls."

You started to whimper and moan against his lips as he started to roll his hips into yours, already feeling his quickly hardening member rubbing against your entrance. "Wait sweetie I still have to take a shower, change my clothes." Dammit Y/N keep your mouth shut why are you turning down morning sex, you absolute buffoon, you hissed at yourself. "I can't go to the field smelling like sex--"

"We can shower together," he answered back smoothly, stealing another kiss from you before speaking again. "And I packed a change of clothes for you for this exact scenario."

"And what scenario is that?" you asked him breathlessly, a thrill running through your whole body as he stroked your thighs before parting them the slightest bit more and settling his hips between them. Your hand slammed down on the mattress, gripping the sheets when you felt the tip of his length rubbing up and down between your folds, teasing your entrance.

"The one where I want to keep you in bed a little while longer," he rasped, starting to inch his way inside you, letting out a shuddering breath before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "We're not leaving this room until last night's insolent visitor is nothing but a distant memory."

There must have been an angel smiling down on both you and Tom today, seeing as you were assigned to work the field again, even functioning as an assistant cameraperson as a few people from one of the crews set to shoot footage of today's Training Week events fell ill.

You were set to assist in filming the penalty shootout later on in the afternoon, handling a relatively smaller camera that would focus on the players watching rather than the players shooting for the home dressing room. For the morning, however, you were mostly guiding the photographers through the field, ensuring that they were at a safe enough distance so that the chances of them getting hit by a stray ball were significantly slimmer.

"Oi, if you stare a little harder your eyes'll burn a hole through 'er head," Jill's voice broke Tom out of his thoughts, elbowing him lightly when he stole one last glance at you before running into the playing area.

When he finally got to his teammates, his skin brisled at the discovery that they too were staring shamelessly at you, talking about the little mouth-shaped bruises that peppered your neck and chest. It didn't help that he might have added to that count this morning while he was comforting you.

"I mean if she didn't want us to look then she woulda worn something that doesn't show off her tits so much. And those hickeys are practically a red neon arrow going Look over here, gents."

Tom shut his eyes, making a conscious effort to unclench his jaw before facing them, putting on a whole performance as he smiled at them and pretended he didn't want to conveniently forget that he was a gentleman and strike them clean across their cheek. "Lads," he greeted them through gritted teeth masked as a smile. "Shall we proceed with some drills?"

"In a minute, Y/L/N is about to lean down and--No, come on sweet thing, move your hand outta the way!" The loud holler from his teammate had you snapping your head in their direction, and he could see your neck visibly tensing when you saw his teammate with hands cupped over his mouth, not even bothering to seem ashamed of the distasteful remark.

You were called over to a table by the bleachers, and finally the immature lewd comments about you seemed to stop and they all proceeded with drills for a short while. If only his teammates hadn't once again opened their mouths once they paused to take a break.

"You gents think she and her boyfriend would be opposed to a threesome? Too pretty of a thing for just one man to keep to himself."

Another one chimed in. "Downright greedy is what it is. Everyone should have the God given right to see a mouth that sinful stuffed with--"

"You know, I really don't think her boyfriend would appreciate hearing you all talk about her like she's some sentient sex doll," he finally blurted out, fighting the urge to clench his fists as his heart thundered in his chest.

"Pssh come on, I know you have your woman but even you with your A-list standards have to admit that she's a looker."

She is and she's mine, he inwardly seethed. "You can appreciate someone's beauty without being so crass about it."

"Loosen up a little, Thomas. Pretty sure her boyfriend would be proud knowing nearly every man with a pulse here wants a go at that. And it's not like he can even hear us, whoever the lucky bastard is." His teammate sighed as he looked over at that table again, making Tom hold himself back with all his strength as he watched him so brazenly adjust his shorts in front of everyone in the field. "Just one night. Lucky bastard just gotta share for one night."

Your words from last night rang loud and clear in his mind. He refused to let this go on. It was time to make things less private.

"Actually the lucky bastard can hear you all just fine," he announced loud enough for all the horny assholes to snap their heads to look at him. "And I can tell you right now neither of us are open to sharing."

"You know…I didn't see you come back to the room this morning," Simone commented with a teasing tone when she passed by the table you were sat at. "Not to be a bit of a Nosy Nancy but…if your clothes were with us, where'd you--"

"Boyfriend," you answered simply, smiling at the memory of this morning's shower with Tom in his room. And the numerous, extensive kisses you shared before parting ways for the morning. "Apparently he kept an outfit change for me in his luggage. Contingencies."

"Nice boyfriend," Joelah commented, plopping down on the seat next to you and jutting her chin toward the laptop in front of you. "Whatchu workin' on?" Before you could answer, she placed a hand on your shoulder, making you face her as she silently counted the marks on your neck and chest. "Fuckin' A you weren't kidding about your boyfriend thinkin' he's a vampire do you have more…"

"I do," you answered with a little chuckle, giving them a casual shrug. "The ones from earlier haven't even started showing yet--"

"What?!" Joelah and Simone all but shrieked, eyes wide and jaws on the ground as the former waved Douglas over. "Please tell me you know something about who the mystery man is, we still have three guesses."

The player shrugged in response. "All I know is that Jill knows and she refuses to share with the class. Just said something about if we paid enough attention we woulda figured it out by now because, and I quote, it's 'damn near impossible to miss the smitten on that man'."

"Honestly you guys Jill just basically dropped a name and asked me point blank if we were a thing," you offered, giving them a tiny smile. "So I said yes." You turned your gaze back to Joelah. "As for your earlier question, I'm doing security penetration testing on the auction site for the match-worn jerseys. Trying to make sure no one can just insert their bid without actually putting in the money and all that."

You turned back to the laptop to go through a few more test cases before sending over a checklist of some more advanced attacks for the development team to test out, as you wouldn't have enough time in the day to spare in this consult for those. From the corner of your eye you saw Joelah lean back in her chair, facing the England team.

"Ungh Don't talk about penetrating right now, babes, it's making me think things" she groaned, the frustration in her tone so potent you could practically hear her pout. "Unholy things. For a certain Player Number 6 with that obscenely tight jersey and that arse I mean just fuck me running look at the sheer power in those moves."

Without looking up from your computer you darted your eyes toward the field to sneak a fleeting glance at Tom, the stupidly tight shirt you masterminded him into stretched so tight across his back muscles you could see the definition even from this far, and his stance putting his ass and thighs on borderline sluttish display. You had to purse your lips and bite back your words before you voiced a similar sentiment, only yours mentioning that you knew exactly what power those legs held while he took you against the shower wall earlier this morning.

"Ohh Christ on a bike was I too loud?"

"I don't think so," you answered her, typing away your findings and starting on your final test. "Why what's up?"

"He's looking at the table, I'm no better than those horny asshats making crude comments at you I feel like a right knob--Wait…hold on…" She pointed at herself and you heard a faint "Me?" coming from her before she started patting your shoulder to call your attention. "Never mind he's not looking at me I think he wants to talk to you."

That was enough to make you look up completely from what you were doing, meeting your boyfriend's gaze from ten yards away. You gave him a tiny smile, raising your eyebrow in a playful questioning look. He raised his hand and gave you a little wave, prompting you to do the same.

He then started to mouth a message to you that had your breath catching in your throat with a borderline inhuman sound. I. Love. You.

"Wait hold on--?!" Simone shrieked from the side. You could hear that she and Joelah had clasped their hands together like best friends in a high school hallway, watching one of their own getting a Promposal.

"What?" you mouthed back, barely able to hold back the smile that was pulling at your mouth. What he did next had you breaking out into a full on toothy grin, joyful tears prickling at the back of your eyes.

He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered his message again. "I said I love you, Y/N!"

You felt the air leave your lungs, unable to hold back your joy as you saw that heartbreakingly handsome face beaming at you. With cupped hands over your own mouth, you hollered back at him, "I love you, too!"

A hand clasped around yours, and Joelah looked at you with wide excited eyes. "He's--??"

"He's the boyfriend," you confirmed with a vigorous nod of your head. The other women looked at you jaws slack and silently prompting you to give up some more details. "Going on seven years."

"So he did all…" Douglas motioned at all the marks on your chest. "That??"

"And the ones that haven't started showing yet," you shot back with a cheeky wink.

"Ohh my lordy me I just realized," Joelah gasped. "Keeping things low key?! You already told us before and we were just being so fucking dense about it! You were so slick with that!" You only gave her a little shrug, giving yet another confirmation, before she jutted her chin again to point at something behind you. "Your man's coming over."

You took a breath before turning to see Tom breaking into a light jog making his way to you, immediately reaching for your hands when he got close enough. "Hello, sweetheart," he said with a heaving breath, the exhilaration radiating off him in waves as he moved his hands up your arms until he got to your shoulders. "You looked so tense, I needed to check on you." Once your shoulders relaxed he wrapped an arm around your waist, grasping your chin with his free hand, coaxing you to unclench your jaw. "Are you alright, goddess?"

"I am now," you sighed contentedly, feeling the tension steadily leaving your body with each passing second. "Thank you for checking on me."

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. "I'm here for you, my love. Always," he said softly, framing your face in his hands. "But now that I'm here, perhaps I could…steal just a little kiss?" He looked at you with those pleading eyes that never failed to get you weak in the knees.

"You know I can't say no to you…especially when you ask so nicely." You barely had time to take in a breath before he braced his hand behind your back, tilting his head to close the remaining inches of distance between you and press his lips to yours.

The faint sound of the ladies next to you clapping and squealing surrounded you, made louder when he splayed his hands at your upper back and your hip before dipping you. He smiled against your lips when you let out a muted squeal of your own.

Jill's voice broke through your moment, remind you both exactly where you were. "Alright adorable as you two are, get your arse back out on that field, Hiddleston. You can kiss your girlfriend all you want after today's training."

You giggled from your position, holding on to his shoulders as your upper back rested perfectly comfortably on his thigh, as he pulled away with numerous soft pecks to your lips. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, pressing one more kiss before righting both your stances.

"I love you, too," you said back, unable to wipe the smile off your face as he jogged toward the field. Once you turned to face the rest of the women at the table, the sound of a frustrated shriek and stomping on cement hit your ears. Followed by a distant 'It's not fair!!' that had you all laughing amongst yourselves before Jill called out to Douglas to get back on the field as well.

Later that night you knocked on Tom's hotel room door, a look of slight concern on your boyfriend's face as he eyed the bag in your hand before a smile graced his features, realizing why you had your luggage with you.

"My roommates kicked me out," you said, making a whole show of sticking out your bottom lip in a little pout. "Something about it being pointless to keep my things there if I don't sleep there anyways." You tried to bite back the smile as he stepped toward you, running his hand down your arm until he took the handle of your overnight bag from you. "You don't happen to have a place for me to crash, would you?"

Your giggles filled the hall as he wrapped his other arm around your waist, your feet leaving the ground as he brought you into the room, kicking the door shut. "I only have the one bed," he answered you, his voice raspy as your bag hit the floor with a soft thud. "You'd have to adhere to a few rules, however."

"And what exactly are these rules?" you shot back, failing to stifle your whimper when he laid you down on the bed, smirking down at you as he worked his hands under your shirt.

"First…no clothing." He made quick work to pull your shirt over your head before pressing his lips to your now bared stomach, sucking and biting another bruise onto your skin while he unclasped your bra. "And second…you'll have to sleep in my arms at all times." He kissed his way up your body until his lips ghosted over yours. "Do we have a deal, goddess?"

You closed the last bit of distance between you, pressing your lips to his before answering him. "Always."

A/N: Meow meow protecting his bb is precious and must be protected at all costs. Everyone working the event finally knows and that means we're on to…game day! I might be giving these two a little break though to work on other series and also…the rest of my requests that've been there since 500 followers and we're already here at [information redacted] so…I'm hella late 🤣🤣

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[genderlessdude92]

PRECIOUS

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.7k

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

END NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

-Lynn ¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩ Masterlist Link