#just straight cold milk

[introversiontherapy]

Another starbucks disappointment

[circusclownproductions]

seeing a lot of videos that are like “I didn’t know babies couldn’t have water” so here’s an incomplete list of things you need to know before having a baby

- the obvious, they can’t have water bc milk is incredibly high in water already so excess water leads to over hydration

- babies cannot have honey until 1

- if ur breastfeeding your kid and saving excess milk, make sure you label what you pumped in the morning vs at night bc your body produces different melatonin levels throughout the day and giving your baby daytime milk at night can make them more alert and fuck up their sleep schedule

- idk why ppl keep saying this but swaddling your babies or getting them those baby straight jacket things is not abuse. It chills them out cuz it reminds them of the womb

- babies have a dandruff like buildup on their head called cradle cap, and it’s very easy to deal with and remove with just some baby shampoo, a gentle scrub brush (MADE FOR BABIES!!) and a comb. It does need to be removed tho cuz it can be very painful after a while. This can also continue to happen late into toddlerhood it’s normal

- you have to clean out the creases of your baby’s skin and hands and feet they WILL collect dust😭😭

- you cannot bathe your baby until their umbilical cord naturally falls off. Use a warm damp rag until then

- tummy time is actually very important

- your baby might have a misshapen head at first (not all the time but sometimes) this will either sort itself out or they’ll need a corrective helmet ask your doctor

- I wouldn’t recommend having your baby leave the house very much until they’re at least 6 months old, especially if they’re born near cold and flu season cuz the common cold can kill a newborn

- you’re not an awful horrible person for having postpartum depression and it’s always a million times better to let your baby cry a few minutes longer than normal while you regain your composure than to freak out and give ur kid shaken baby syndrome

- you’re not an awful horrible person for giving your baby formula milk either

- don’t put shoes on your baby it’ll compromise their toe box and balance

- babies put every single thing in their mouths

- the easiest way to burp a baby is to hold them straight up (spine straight) and hold their head a bit higher

- always support their head they barely have necks

- if your baby fights away food, fights tummy time, vomits every single time you burp them, is gaining or losing an unreasonable amount of weight at a time, wheezes after eating, or goes red after eating, chances are they’re probably allergic to the type of milk they’re eating (again ask a doctor but these are just some signs it’s not just colic)

- they will wobble a lot when learning to do things but you gotta fight the urge to help them every single time cuz they gotta learn

- they’re not always spitting out baby food cuz they don’t like it they just don’t know how to eat. Like they don’t know how to push food down they only know how to stick their tongue out so be patient

- babies craniums are broken up into three parts at first that later fuse together, this is to help make birthing easier but it results in a small EXTREMELY sensitive spot in the top of their head that has no protection. This puts their brain at a high risk. Always protect their soft spot

- read to your baby!! Get cute bright colorful sensory books with sight words and read them to your baby it makes such a huge difference in their educational growth and will help them acquire a love for reading early on. And talk to them never shut up just say whatever comes to mind all the time this will strengthen their vocabulary growth also.

- babies poop like a lot. A lot. an unreasonable amount. Bring back up clothes and more diapers than you think

- no pillows or stuffies in the crib and only use a muslin blanket unless it’s especially cold to prevent suffocation

- babies kick reflexively until they’re out of their newborn scrunch (they stay womb shaped for a while) and if your baby is crying and pushing at the swaddle try letting them flail around for a minute

- consoling your baby is not spoiling them ! They need comfort and they will learn to self soothe on their own

- singing lullabies actually works, they can recognize your voice a consistent place of comfort from the womb and the cadence of lullabies is literally engineered to create a calm headspace

- for the love of god do not get boring ass beige toys. Colors are important for their neurological development

- babies are very responsive to praise from a young age so be as supportive of them as you can

- babies get constipated a lot and you have to do like tummy massages to help ease their pain the easiest way is to lay them on their backs and hold one foot in each hand, kick their feet like bicycles, scrunch up, and then stretch their legs out

- holding them on your hip too much will not cause bow legged-ness if your baby is bow legged that was always gonna happen

- they drool so so much and you have to get bibs for them so they don’t get chest eczema

- don’t use scented products on their skin cuz their skin is sooo much thinner than ours

- when your baby first starts sitting on their own never walk away from them without setting up a nest of pillows and blankets around them. Even minor head trauma can mess them up sometimes

- this one is kinda morbid and scary but sometimes babies just die out of nowhere and it’s no one’s fault or anything it’s called sudden infantile death syndrome(SIDS) and it’s about 1.3k deaths on average per year in America so not super common but still very real. 90% of these deaths happen during the first four months however edit: apparently it’s bc of an enzyme deficiency which at the very least you can take steps to try and prevent

- smoking and drinking during pregnancy WILL affect your baby and your breast milk and also might contribute to SIDS cases

- babies sometimes have a big red mark on them somewhere called a stork bite immediately after birth but typically it goes away

- babies can’t see very well for a while after birth and they’re VERY wobbly so they’ll typically bonk their head into your chest and face a lot while trying to support themselves

- female babies might have smth similar to a period the first few days after birth, this is because of the hormone transfer that happens during the birthing process and the days leading up to it

- male babies get random erections for the first few days after birth(hormone transfer again) literally do not be weird about this it’s a baby

- things like weaning your baby onto solid foods, potty training, weaning off pacifiers etc, can actually be directed by the baby and will happen naturally will minimal guidance from the parent(some guidance is still necessary) although I would do individual research into baby led weaning for food to prevent choking

- get those chewy feeding pouches to help with weaning

- the most random things will scare the hell out of your baby don’t take it personal 😭

- baby carriers are life savers (tulas are one of my favorites)

- once babies hit toddlerhood they’re tougher than you think, and a lot of their reaction is based on YOURS. they’re always going to be looking to you for how to react to a situation. Remain calm and if they’re ok they’ll calm down but if they’re genuinely hurt they’ll keep crying

- babies will most likely get ridiculously attached to an inanimate object and you have to keep this thing intact at all costs until they’re old enough to abandon it or they will throw a FIT. I got a lemur plushie from a zoo once and every single one of the kids has bonded their soul with it until about 6 years old and once a month I have to stitch him back up

- don’t compare yourself to other parents. Maybe your kid isnt getting grass fed wild caught north Atlantic cheerios but at least they’re fed. If your kid is alive and healthy and happy you’re doing a good job

- you will need 3 car seats, an infant seat, a grow with me toddler seat, and a booster seat

- getting a good diaper bag is a MUST

- the hair a baby is born with will most likely all fall out or they’ll get a bald spot on the back of their head where they sleep cuz their hair is so fragile and thin but once it grows back it grows back thick

- get like 20 muslin blankets so you always have a backup when the main ones are covered in spit up

- the babies grip IS stronger than yours (keep your hair up and keep pets away best you can)

- your best bet for your teething baby is a pacifier you can put your finger in so you can massage their gums and some chewing toys numbing cream can be dangerous and should be used sparingly

- go ahead and come to terms with the fact you’re gonna have to use a Frida Baby to manually remove snot

- babies can get hair and thread wrapped around their toes and fingers that can cut off their circulation try to make a habit of checking

- don’t hit your kid please it’s nothing but trauma and fucked up coping mechanisms from there pls empathize with your child they’re a person too

- be careful not to pull too hard on their arms and legs(like during play or holding their hand while they walk) and NEVER pick them up by their hands this will very easily cause dislocation

- they might have a little tooth like callous on their lip from their pacifier. This does not hurt them and it will go away but it may hurt during breastfeeding

- breastfeeding will make your boobs different sizes

Yeag that’s all I can think of rn but yk i Will add as I remember stuff ppl are also adding things I forgot in the tags in case you’d like to look thru that as well <3

[hoshifighting]

“you know what else is pink?”

WARNINGS: roomate!jihoon, smut, ...pink cock, blowjob/handjob, penetrative sex, squirt, overstimulation.

WC: 2.7K

[got inspiration from this tiktok]

jihoon’s got this routine down, locked in. you hear the clatter of keys in the door at exactly 9:17 PM, every night without fail. he comes in smelling like roasted coffee beans and vanilla syrup, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and—of course—that little paper cup in hand as he kicked the door shut behind him with that little flick of his heel.

“got your poison,” he says, tossing the pink monstrosity onto the table in front of you. It lands with a soft thunk, condensation already forming on the sides, and the sight alone is enough to make you grin like a damn idiot.

“thanks, hoon,” you say, grabbing it immediately and taking a sip like you haven’t had this exact drink every day for months. it’s sweet as hell, tastes like summer and cavities, but you can’t help it. you’re obsessed.

jihoon just shrugs like it’s nothing—like he didn’t go out of his way to snag this for you, again.

he chuckles, already moving toward the bathroom while shrugging off his jacket. “you know what else is pink?”

your brain short-circuits. immediately. you blink up at him like he’s just asked you to solve the riddle of the sphinx.

“h-hm?”

he pauses, halfway out of his jacket, and tilts his head back to look at you. a mischievous little smirk stretches across his face, his pearly-ass veneers catching the shitty overhead lighting.

“huh?” jihoon mirrored you, raising his eyebrows all innocent.

you’re left thinking about his elbows now, how they’re faintly pink at the joints, a soft flush that spreads to his cheeks when it’s too hot in the apartment. his knees, the curve of them when he sits cross-legged on the couch watching anime. the way his nipples—god, why are you thinking about his nipples—stand out when he’s shirtless, all pale skin and rosy peaks.

and yeah, okay. you know exactly what he meant.

the “pink drink” sat in your hand, cold and totally innocent, unlike the mental image now burning in your skull.

[...]

the sound of him moving around in the bedroom after his shower is, like, a damn magnet pulling you in. you’ve been pacing the kitchen like a lunatic, the pink frappuccino now safely tucked away in the fridge because there’s no way in hell you’re gonna stomach all that milk with what you’re about to do. your heart’s doing that stupid fast thing, but you’re already walking down the hallway, bare feet quiet against the floor.

the bedroom door is cracked open, and you catch him just as he’s hanging his towel up. his back’s to you, but even from here, you can see how his shoulders move when he stretches, pale skin almost glowing under the shitty warm light of the bedroom. and those shorts are barely covering anything, and his legs look even paler against the fabric.

he runs both hands through his wet hair, brushing it back in that way that makes it stick up all messy, and for a second, you just stand there leaning against the wall beside the door, arms crossed, watching him like a creep. your bottom lip tugs between your teeth as you try to psych yourself up, but nah, fuck it, you’re already moving. you push off the wall and walk straight up to him. he doesn’t even have time to turn around fully before your hands are on him, shoving his chest hard enough that he stumbles backward.

“yo—” he starts, but his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits down with a soft oof, bracing himself on his elbows.

his eyes snap up to meet yours, wide. “what’s this about?”

you step closer, standing between his knees, grabbing his chin with your fingers to tilt his head up.

“oh?” he breathes out, his smirk faltering just a bit when your thumb brushes over his bottom lip.

“yeah. oh,” you shoot back, your voice sharper than the shaky confidence you’re working with. you sink to your knees in front of him, your hands trailing down his torso, the little bodyhairs raising up to meet your palm, fingers dragging over that pale skin. his breath catches, and he shifts, spreading his legs just enough for you to settle between them.

you tug at the waistband of those godforsaken shorts, sliding them down. and there it is, the very thing he hinted at earlier—exactly like you knew he’d be, flushed and already half-hard, the head its almost the same shade of your drink, but more human-skin-like, and fuck, you're probably going to think about it everytime he hands you the drink. his breath hitches again when your hand wraps around him.

“what’s wrong?” you tease, tilting your head, your thumb swiping over the tip to smear the bead of wetness there.

“ah-ah-shit—” he mutters, his voice strained. you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his hip bone, then lower, leaving a trail of warmth as your lips move closer.

he lets out this shaky little laugh, but it breaks off into a hiss when you lean in, your lips brushing over the tip, like you're about to taste it, before wrapping around him completely. his lungs get full of air before moaning all way in while he exhales and you swear you’ve never felt more smug in your life.

his hand comes up to cover his mouth, like he’s trying to muffle the sounds spilling out of him, but it’s useless. the little gasps, the way his voice breaks on your name—it’s making you swallow him in.

your hand moves in partnership with your mouth, stroking him in time with the way your tongue works over every inch of him. when you glance up, his head is tipped back, eyes half-closed, lips parted, and he looks like he is winning a bliss.

“you’re so fucking—good” he stammers, his voice cracking halfway through. “holy shit, keep—keep going.”

you don’t stop, not even when his thighs start trembling under your hands, not even when he’s biting down on his knuckles to keep himself from being too loud.

you hollow your cheeks as you pull back, dragging your lips over him until you reach the tip with a wet, obscene pop.

“jesus fucking—” he chokes out, but his words cut off when you lower your head, tongue dragging along the sensitive seam of his sack like you’re savoring it. you can feel the way his thighs tense on your sides, trembling like he’s caught between pulling away and leaning into you.

your hand is still wrapped around him, firm that his cockhead gets red, keeping that steady rhythm while your tongue works over the delicate skin below.

he lifts his head to look down at you, his lips parted in disbelief, sweat glistening on his forehead. “you—what the fuck are you doing?”

“what’s it look like?” you quip back, grinning up at him before wrapping your lips around his balls again, taking one side into your mouth gently. his reaction is instant—his hips roll under your mouth, and his eyes, roll back.

“this is—holy shit—this is fucked up.”

you hum around him, taking your time, switching to the other side, your tongue lavishing the sensitive skin as you work him over. “fucked up?” you echo between breaths, lips brushing against him. “sounds like youre enjoying it.”

his hand flies up to cover his face, fingers digging into his own hair. he groans, his hips betraying him, twitching toward your mouth like he’s chasing the feeling.

you lean back in, your mouth hot and wet against his cock again, taking him deeper this time, your tongue tracing patterns as you move.

“fuck—fuck—you’re gonna—” his eyes squeeze shut as he lets grits his teeth, failing to hold his whimpers, spilling over himself and inside your mouth.

you don’t stop until you’re sure he’s ridden it out completely, pulling back slowly, your lips slick and swollen, jaw aching, as you wipe your mouth with your thumb.

“you okay there?”

“i don’t think okay covers it...” he grimaces.

“guess i’ll take that as a compliment.”

“you should.” he says, his lips quirking into the faintest smile.

he tilts his head back, his eyes hooded and his lips curling into a lazy smirk as he lifts his hand, tapping his thigh in that slow, cocky way he knows you can’t resist. “c’mere”

you hesitate, for a second, before standing and moving toward him. his gaze stays locked on you, and you feel the weight of it like a physical thing. as you straddle his lap, your dress rides up, pooling around your hips, and his hands are already on you, one gripping your waist while the other skims up your thigh.

he pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. when his tongue drags along your bottom lip, tasting the faint saltiness of himself there, he lets out an obscene groan.

“you taste like me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your mouth before he licks along your lip again, slower this time. his teeth catch the tender skin, biting just enough to sting before he pulls back, tugging your lip between his teeth with a smirk.

your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself as his hand slides lower, over the curve of your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. “been waiting all night to do this,” he mutters, as his fingers dip under the hem of your dress.

before you can process what’s happening, he hooks a finger under the side of your panties, tugging sharply until the fabric tears with a quiet rip. you feel the ruined cloth hanging loosely against your skin as his fingers brush over the now-bare flesh.

you open your mouth to protest—something about him owing you a new pair—but the words die in your throat when you see him lift his hand to his mouth, his tongue dragging along the length of his fingers.

the sight alone has your breath hitching, your thighs twitching around his. he catches the movement, his smirk widening as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, his free hand squeezing your waist as his other hand trails back down.

when his fingers meet your drenched cunt, he spreads the wetness, the wet noise that follows making your cheeks flush even as your body leans into his touch. he circles sensitive hole at your center, and he chuckles low in his throat when you let out a shaky breath.

“you’re already so wet.”

he shifts under you, leaning back as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly to see if his cock hardens again. his jaw tightens, a sharp exhale slipping past his lips as his head tips back. “shit,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut for a second before they snap open to find you, perched right there on his thighs, looking like a fucking fever dream. “of course, it’s you. of course it works.”

and yeah, you don’t really get what he means by that, because he’s brushing himself against you now, dragging just the tip along where you’re already sdripping

“fuck,” he hisses, wincing as his hips buck up just a little. “so sensitive—” his words cut off with a low groan when you shift, your hands steadying yourself on his shoulders as you sink down.

“oh my god,” you choke out, the sensation swamping the second you take him in. “oh my god, hoon—holy shit—this is so good.”

he lets out this strangled laugh, “yeah?” he rasps, his voice breaking a little at the end. “feels good?”

“so fucking good,” you breathe, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, your hips rolling against him in these desperate little motions. you’re not even trying to play it cool—you’re too far gone for that, babbling about how full he feels, how perfect, how you’ve never felt anything like this.

and he’s just watching you, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, looking dazed and a little wrecked, but there’s this smug glint in his eyes, like he is so fucking proub about how horny he made you.

his hands slide up your thighs, gripping tight like he’s trying to slow you down, but you don’t let him. you’re too caught up in the feeling, too desperate for more, and the way he whimpers when you move faster makes you coat him even wetter,

“slow down,” he tries, his voice cracking as his head falls back. “s-slow—ngh!”

but you don’t slow down. you go harder, grinding down on him like you’re trying to burn the feeling into your skin. “n-no,” you whine, your hands bracing against his chest. “you started this, hoon. you wanted to tease me? then t-ake it.”

his laugh is sharp and breathy, but it cuts off with a low, throaty groan when you move just right, your hips snapping against his in this perfect rhythm that has his head spinning.

“fuck, okay,” he chokes out, but it dosent last a second, his hands flying to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave marks as he tries to slow you down. “okay, okay, just—fuck—slow—a little, babe, please, i’m—”

you don’t listen. too far gone to register anything beyond the way he feels inside you, the way his body tenses under yours, the way his voice gets high pitch with every ragged breath.

“gonna kill me,” he groans, his hands trembling as they guide your hips into a slower rhythm, even though you can tell he’s fighting himself just as much as he’s fighting you.

he grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he finally, finally uses his strength to slow you down, forcing you to move at his pace. it’s infuriating and perfect all at once because the shift makes his tip angle just right.

when it brushes against that spot inside you, your whole body jerks. your mouth falls open in a silent scream, no sound coming out except for a broken gasp, and your hips stutter helplessly in his hands, trying to chase the feeling even as he keeps you firmly in place.

he lets out a low, relieved laugh, his voice rough but still so maddeningly smug as he leans closer, his breath hot against your neck. “see?” he murmurs, his tone soft and cooing, like he’s teasing and praising you all at once. “isn’t that good? like this? hm?”

before you can even respond—hell, before you can even think—he does it again, using his arms to guide your hips, rolling them slowly, to make him hit that same spot. and this time, the moan that tears from your throat is loud, followed by another and another, until you’re shaking so hard you’re not even sure you’re in control of your body anymore.

“fuck,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he keeps you moving, steady and devastating. “so pretty like this. so perfect.”

you barely hear him, too lost in the way he’s making you feel, your moans spilling out one after another as the pressure inside you builds higher and higher, until it’s too much. your body seizes, your walls clenching around him so hard that he hiccups. and then it happens—a sudden, blinding orgasm that has you gasping, a liquid warmth spilling out of you in an uncontrollable squirt.

“holy shit,” he mutters as he feels it, the slickness making him slip out of you as you convulse in his lap.

he doesn’t even have time to react properly before the sight of you trembling and moaning in his arms—is enough to make him cum. his hand flies to the swollen cock, stroking once, twice, before he’s coming hard, spilling onto the floor. whining and rolling his hips onto his hand.

for a long moment, the both of you cant move, both of you too fucked and out of breath to do anything but sit there.

eventually, your gaze drifts downward, and your eyes land on him—still hard, still twitching slightly, the entire length of him glistening and… pink. ridiculously pink, especially at the head where it’s darker, flushed from how tight you’d been squeezing him.

you blink, your brain still foggy, and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind: “you weren’t kidding about the pink thing.”

he snorts, now shyly, his head tipping forward to rest against your shoulder as he laughs. “told you... thank god pink’s kind of your thing.”

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO

KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY

HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses

A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?

���Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.

You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.

“Yeah, want me to list a few?”

Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.

Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.

“All of the above?”

Heeseung can't dispute that.

JAY — forehead kisses

Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.

You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.

Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.

You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.

JAKE — messy kisses

Jake kisses like a man starved.

Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.

He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.

To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.

“I could kiss you forever.”

His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.

Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.

When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.

“You alright?”

You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

SUNGHOON — distracted kisses

Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.

Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.

But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.

“Hoon, are you even listening?”

He nods, he's not listening.

He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.

He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.

You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.

“You're right, I wasn't listening”

JUNGWON — soft morning kisses

Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.

There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.

Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.

“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.

But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.

“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.

SUNOO — giggly kisses

You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.

And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.

He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.

“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.

“Too busy for kisses?”

When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.

“Wrong answer.”

And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.

NI-KI — kisses in the rain

Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?

The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.

Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.

You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.

There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.

Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.

One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.

Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.

taglist: @chenlezip @nanawrlds @mystverse @jenobubbles @flaminghotyourmom @lotties-readings

[eraenaa]

Unexpected Affections

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: With just a smile, you had managed to bewitch and enthrall the stoic and cold prince. 

Warnings: Sunshine x Grumpy Trope, ¿Softer Aemond?, ¿Simp Aemond?, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, Fingering, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (f receiving), Overstimulation, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 7,287

A/N: Really milking softer Aemond bc I'm pretty sure I'm going to take a break from him once s2 is released.

He’s broken beyond repair. Too far gone to be saved. Aemond knew fully well that is how the others see him. The boy who had his eye taken was never the same. Darkness was his only solace, the walls too far up that no one dared to scale it and reach the true him— simply taking the dark and villainous scrap of his true self that he was willing to give. All seemed to give up on him— simply let him drown in his darkness, except you. 

Like all things good, you came unexpectedly. You were a mere visitor from Highgarden, a noble lady who came with your lord father as he tended to business in the capitol. Aemond could never understand how you looked at everything and everyone with rose-colored glasses, but he supposed he should be grateful because if that trusting naivety in you were lost, your light would never come close to his looming darkness. 

“Who is that?” Aemond asked his family’s most trusted knight, Ser Criston Cole. Your figure caught his attention; it was as if you were floating along the gardens of his home. A small smile on your face and flowers adorned in your hair. He stood near the balcony, discussing important business with the knight, when his train of thought was lost and captured by your mere presence. “Lady Tyrell, her father has business here with the crown,” the knight said absentmindedly. Aemond nodded and took one last glance at you before walking away. 

The thought of you was quickly forgotten by the prince. He saw your presence as just another to add to the list of nobles at court who cowered upon his stature. However, you lingered in the back of his mind as he often saw glimpses of you walking through the halls of his home. Aemond stood in the gardens once more, this time waiting for his sister and her children when he caught your eyes. He waited for fear and apprehension to present themself in your orbs, the same reactions he would elicit from everyone. However, the prince was taken aback as you smiled at him. A small, respectable smile before you stole your eyes and continued to your promenading.

Aemond blinked his eye rapidly, trying to discern if he saw correctly or if it was a cruel trick made by his impaired vision. Aemond pursed his lips as he felt himself walk towards where you had passed. There was this odd pull about you— more than your beauty; if it was just that, a comely face was never one to put the prince in a trance. It was an ethereal element that beguiled Aemond quickly. He had not even spoken to you, yet you had already managed to put such an effect on him. 

He watched from a distance as you bent down and assessed a flower, your fingers caressing the velvety petal and bringing it to your nose to discern the fragrance of it. Aemond felt that pull once more, his feet carrying him closer to you. When you stood straight, your brows raised in surprise as you had noticed you were no longer alone. “My prince,” You greeted with a curtsy, his silvery locks the warning sign that you spoke to royalty. Aemond was rendered silent, his mind already spinning at the sound of your voice. What was this? He could not explain what had overcome him. You bit your lip as no greeting left the prince’s lips, him only staring at you with an unreadable expression on his angular face. “Are… are you well, my prince?” You asked, daring to step closer and take hold of his arm to examine if he was truly well. 

You watched as his lips parted and closed, no sound leaving it. “Perhaps you should find some shade; the heat may be too unbearable,” You say quietly and never take your hold off his arm, guiding him towards the shade of a willow tree in concern. Aemond was screaming at himself on the inside, hating that he was making a fool of himself, that he couldn’t even speak, simply letting you guide him towards the shade and making him sit on a bench. Your concern for his well-being consumes your face and his being. “Do you wish for refreshment, perhaps w—“ Aemond shook his head as he finally regained his senses. 

You chewed on your cheek as the prince stood. “I am fine; I apologize for the— the intrusion, Lady Tyrell,” He said stoically, and you shook your head and smiled at him. “No need for apologies, my prince; no intrusion was made. But are you certain that you are well… you look a bit pale, my prince.” You say and quickly regret it as your mind reminds you that maybe that was just his true complexion. You swallowed thickly as you saw him pursed his lips, fearing that you had offended the prince. Aemond did not know how to take this concern— this kindness that he was never the receiver of. “I am quite well; good day, my lady.” He walked away in haste as he feared that if he stayed longer in your presence, he would make a further fool of himself. You stood there in confusion; your lips parted as the prince almost ran from you. 

The thought of you haunted Aemond until the night, his arm still tingling from where you had placed your touch. He replayed the scene in his mind over and over again, trying to convince himself that your concern was fictitious— that it was a ploy to be in the good graces of the prince. But as he recalled the way your eyes bore into his, nothing but sincerity was evident in your orbs. How are you this kind? To a stranger, no less. Aemond was restless as he lay in his bed; his mind kept conjuring your interaction in the gardens, refusing him any other thought than you. 

When morning came, Aemond had made great lengths to avoid you, silently embraced as he had made a fool of himself in the gardens. As his training ended, Aemond tried to find reprieve from the loud keep in the library. Aemond believed he was successful in his avoidance of you, but as he stood by the threshold of the silent room, he saw, as you were seated in one of the chairs, a book in your hand as you silently read. His presence was still not noticed. He could easily slip away and be successful in his avoidance of you, yet, just like the other days, his body could not help but be pulled towards you. 

When you noticed a presence standing before where you sat, you flickered your gaze upward and locked eyes with the prince once more. “Prince Aemond,” You acknowledge and move to stand to greet him, but he silently raises his hand and hinders your actions. You copied his silence as he took the seat across from you. You traveled your gaze through the library, uncertain what to say or do. “I hope you are feeling better,” You say quietly. Aemond licked his lips as he was subjected to your dazzling presence once more; even though he had willed himself to avoid it, it seemed you were inevitable. 

“I am; I was simply tired,” He said, making certain to place coldness in his tone, hoping it would deter you and no longer present him with your kindness he stubbornly took as deception. Aemond felt his breath catch as you gave him another smile. A relieved smile for his well-being that was so genuine that he could not stubbornly convince himself that it was not. 

You stayed silent as you felt that that was what the prince preferred. You tried to return to your reading, but his velvety voice sounded through the room. “What business did you have here?” He asked. Aemond was testing you, presenting you with his cold and calloused self to see if it would have any effect on you just like it did the other. He watched calculatingly as your lips parted, and he found trouble to remove his gaze from your plush lips. “If I am being honest, I am not quite certain, my prince.” You said truthfully. You watched him raise his brow at you to explain further. “My father has business he needed to tend to here, but he had not disclosed to me the reason for it or why I needed to join.” Aemond nodded and watched as your eyes were never removed from his gaze, surprised that you could hold onto his intensified stare. 

“So you have no purpose here?” He asked harshly. He expected a frown or a look of offense on your face, but he watched as you smiled as if you were amused and shrugged, “I suppose not.” Aemond stayed silent and continued to asses you as you returned to your reading. 

“Do you like philosophy, Prince Aemond?” You asked after a stretch of silence, unable to bear the eerie and suffocating quiet. Aemond took a moment before he answered your query that no one had been interested in asking him before. “I do,” Another small smile appeared on your lips as you nodded. “Then have you perhaps read this? I have been mulling over the proposition of the archmaester for days now, but I cannot seem to comprehend it fully,” You say and turn the book you read towards him. Your fingers brushed as the prince took the book from your hands, and you could not hinder the chill that ran down your spine as you felt his cold, calloused fingers against yours. 

You listened earnestly as the prince began to speak and explain the proposition you had trouble comprehending, going to great lengths to explain his thoughts on it, assisting and receiving any questions you had. Aemond paused in his explanation, feeling as if his mouth had gone dry by his prolonged speaking. He turned to the window and saw as the once high sun began to set; he returned his gaze to you, your chin resting on your palm as you had listened to his every word, clinging onto every syllable he had uttered. Aemond gulped as he realized his mistake. He had revealed too much of him; too much of his thinking was poured out in his explanation of philosophy. “I must take my leave,” he suddenly said, disregarding that he was in the middle of explaining another philosophical theory that was different from the first you had inquired about. 

“Oh,” You said and straightened in your seat. Aemond wanted to frown as he detected disappointment in your tone and eyes. That cannot be, can it? Why would anyone be disappointed in his departure? “Good day, my prince,” You curtsied as you stood, not wanting to take more of his time. Aemond began to walk away, cursing himself for his actions, but he halted by the door as you spoke. “Thank you for your explanations… they were quite enlightening,” You said, and Aemond turned to you; the smile returned to your lips as you looked at him gratefully. Were you truly thankful? Thankful for him? Was that even a possibility? Aemond gave a curt nod and willed himself to walk away from you. 

You were in the gardens once again. You were terribly homesick, and the gardens of the Red Keep were the only resemblance of your home that you could cling to. You were walking distractedly, a buzzing bee following you around as the flowers in your hair attracted the insect. You tried to squat it away, afraid to get stung when you accidentally missed a step, losing your balance, and were met with the cobbled floor of the gardens. Your jaw slacked in pain, and you tried to stand, your cheeks burning in embarrassment that someone may have seen your ungraceful fall. There was a stone by your side, and you tried to hoist yourself upon it, hissing as you accidentally placed pressure on your swollen ankle, but you were determined to stand and walk back to the keep to ask for assistance.   

Unbeknownst to you, Prince Aemond had been observing you from above the gardens, and the moment he saw the sight of you falling, he made hastened steps to reach you. “My lady,” He called, trying to hide his panting, and approached you as if he had only stumbled upon your presence. You sat before a rock, and he noticed you hiding your injured limb from his view, “My prince,” Aemond watched in slight awe as you still tried to stand and curtsied before him, still holding onto formalities even though you were clearly hurt. 

“Are you well?” This time, it was now Aemond to ask the question. You placed a tight smile on your lips, pretending that your injury was not at all bothering you. “I am fine, and you, my prince?” You asked, trying to speak of pleasantries. You shifted your weight on your uninjured leg and, for once, hoped that the prince would leave. “Are… are you certain?” Aemond inquired, wondering why you would pretend. “Y-yes,” You stuttered, and Aemond narrowed his eye. 

You sighed and placed your head on the ground. “I… I tripped, and I think my ankle is injured— but I do not wish to bother you, my prince. I can wait for the swelling to subside.” Aemond frowned at your words. How were you so concerned about his well-being but not your own? Aemond shook his head and stepped closer to you, silently scooping you in his arms. “Wh— My prince!” You said in shock as you were stiffly settled into the hold of Prince Aemond. Your arms circled around his neck to stabilize yourself. “You don’t— I could have just waited for a squire or maid to assist me,” You said in a slight panic and could not even bear to look at the prince in embarrassment. “You are clearly in pain,” Was all he said as he carried you back inside the castle walls, the both of you earning strange glances from the members of the court. 

Aemond returned you to your assigned chambers, trying to ignore the erratic beating of his still heart and the tingles on his skin from where he felt your touch. He placed you gently onto a settee, inhaling a whiff of your scent, and he felt intoxicated. He placed a respectable distance between you as the both of you waited for the maester he ordered a squire to fetch. Your gaze was still planted on the floor, and Aemond noticed the flush on your cheeks and the harsh bit you had on your lip, embarrassment clearly evident in you. 

“I did not wish to bother you, my prince.” You say quietly, your tone heavy with guilt. Aemond could only hum a response, clueless as to why you were apologizing. The maester finally arrived, and Aemond stood by the side as he oversaw the maester, tending your injury. You tried to keep your pained reactions to a minimum as you felt conscious of the prince’s presence, but you could not help but hiss in pain, and your face contorted in discomfort as the Maester tried to move your injury. Aemond swallowed thickly as he himself was overcome with a phantom pain by the mere observation of yours. 

“Will it heal, maester?” He asked in concern, stepping forward. “Yes, my prince, it is only a swollen ankle; it shall heal by the morrow,” The old man spoke and stood, placing a cold, damp towel upon your injury, and you reached forward to secure its place. Aemond gave a nod, and his eye followed the maester who exited your chambers, leaving the door open. Aemond returned his gaze to you, your eyes finally meeting his, and he once again felt his breath caught in his throat as you smiled at him. 

“Thank you for your assistance and kindness, my prince,” You say gratefully, and Aemond felt his knees weak. No one had ever called him kind before. As always, you were met with his silence, but you dared say you were getting used to it. After a few moments of Aemond trying to comprehend your words, he gave a curt nod. “I shall leave you to rest; good day, my lady.” He said and willed himself to walk away from your presence he did not wish to leave. 

Another day had passed, and Aemond had not seen a glimpse of your presence he had been trying to avoid just the day before. He had the urge to knock upon your door and to see how you were faring with your recovery, but he placed great restraint on himself as his mind deemed it inappropriate. So he waited another day. He stood by the gardens, his eye assessing every passerby as he waited for you. He had been stood by the balcony like a statue for the better part of the morning, but your presence had not been noted. 

Aemond decided to walk around the castle, passing along every corridor in search of you and ready to act surprised as you two would eventually encounter once more. It was nearing sundown, and he had not seen a glimpse of you. Perhaps she is still resting. His mind told him, but Aemond was not entirely sold by that reasoning. 

The prince attended his family’s supper in his mother’s chambers. He sat quietly in his seat and saw the aggravated and tired faces of his mother and grandsire as they came to the table late. “We apologize for our tardiness; the small council has been overburdened by a matter.” The queen explained as she took her seat. “What matter?” Aemond asked, always curious about the dealing made. “The crown cannot afford to pay the dues it owes to House Tyrell… it is too great a sum, and the lord has threatened to withhold back crops for the upcoming winter if we do not pay their price.” The hand spoke, and Aemond pursed his lips, knowing that the debt to your house had been since the time of the conqueror. 

“Surely they could be reasoned with— they would not want to offend the rulers of Westeros,” Aemond said quietly and heard his mother sighed deeply. “Perhaps, but no meetings and negotiations can be made at the moment, for they had already left late last night.” Aemond’s hold on his fork tightened as he heard the words. You had gone without even a goodbye.

“I just do not know what we can offer to match their hefty sum,” the lord hand said and downed his wine. Aemond traveled his gaze around the table, his sibling not at all listening to the matter. “Offer me,” Aemond spoke, and he felt all eyes shift toward him. He turned to his mother, the queen’s lips agape in shock at his words. “The crown does not have money to pay our debt— then is it not a custom to offer marriage instead?” He asked rhetorically; the practice was made for centuries, but the price was usually paid with a princess, not a prince. 

“Aemond, mere debts are not paid with a prince.” The queen said. “But it is not just a mere debt, now is it, mother? The Tyrells had as well placed a threat to the kingdom’s security over this winter— and the mere debt you speak of has been established since the age of the conqueror,” Aemond turned to his grandsire, who he knew would understand his proposition. The Hand pondered over his grandson’s words. “But you are set to marry the Baratheon girl,” Alicent countered, and Aemond scoffed. 

“We owe nothing to the Baratheons, and do you not think that this matter looms greater?” He asked, “Lord Tyrell only has a daughter, does he not? In time, the seat shall pass onto me as well, alike with the arrangements with Lord Borros. And with this, the crown will no longer be indebted to their house,” Aemond said, determined to see you once more. “That is a most favorable solution,” The hand commented, quite content by his grandson’s proposition. The queen sighed and took a moment to think of the proposal. “Very well then,” she sighed, and Aemond hindered the smirk threatening to slip his lips. 

“I shall draft the proposal tonight and send a messenger to Highgarden first thing tomorrow,” Otto said in finality. “No need, I shall offer the proposal myself in person,” Aemond said, and he saw apprehension in his mother’s eyes, disbelief by his decision, but none hindered him. 

It was afternoon the following day when he had reached High Garden, Aemond riding atop his dragon through the morning, eager to reach his destination, you. “My prince,” Lord Tyrell greeted him by the gates of their castle. “What business is so urgent that the prince of the realm had to fly his dragon all over here to the reach?” They had not even reached inside the castle walls when Lord Tyrell could no longer hinder his curiosity. 

“It is the matter of the crown’s debt,” Aemond replied, his eye scanning the halls in search of you. He heard your father reply with an ‘oh,’ clearly anticipating the conclusion of the matter. “Is the crown ready to pay us the price owed?” Aemond hummed as he passed a portrait of you hung on the wall of your home, his eye entranced by the picture. “In a way,” The prince danced upon the matter momentarily. “In lieu of a payment, the crown is prepared to offer a marriage,” Aemond stated and watched concussion flush over your father’s face. 

“With respect, my prince, but that is an insulting offer. The crown has owed my house a great sum accumulated since the age of conquest!” Lord Tyrell seethed, and Aemond gritted his jaw. “I believe you are too hasty with your outburst, my lord. The crown is offering a union between me and your daughter— an opportunity for your only child to be a princess… your grandchildren having the Targaryen name.” Lord Tyrell shook his head, “My daughter is already bound to marry another— titles are one thing, my prince, but there is still a debt to be paid.” Aemond felt the fire in his veins awaken at your father’s words. You are to be bound to another; that cannot be. You cannot be anyone else’s when you had consumed his entire being— when you had presented him with such hope and kindness that he was certain he would find in no one else. You could never be not his. 

Aemond licked his lips, certain that the words he would utter would be a gamble. “Very well then… a counteroffer, my lord. The crown cannot fully pay your price, so we offer a royal marriage and a fourth of the sum owed to you,” Aemond said, assessing the father's reaction as he mulled over the proposition. “I shall need time to reach a decision,” Lord Tyrell finally spoke after a long pause. “Of course,” Aemond agreed. “For the meantime, you are welcome to the halls of High Garden, Your Highness.” 

Aemond waited as your father disappeared from his view before he went on his search for you. He walked through the unfamiliar corridors and found himself being led outside towards the gardens where he wagered you would be. When he saw you seated by a fountain, a smirk curled on his lips. However, it was quick to fade as he had noticed you were not alone. Aemond made furious steps towards you to announce his presence. 

You were conversing with another when you felt your skin tingling and the familiarity of a cold gaze upon you. You turned to your side, and your eyes widened as you saw the prince approaching. You blinked slowly, trying to discern if your mind was playing a cruel trick. But when the prince stood an arm’s length away from you, where you could see him clearly, you knew that it was not a trick. “My prince,” You say almost breathlessly, curtsying lowly before the son of the king. 

“How… what brings you here, your highness?” You asked, disregarding the earlier presence you were with. “Business for the crown,” He replied, eyeing the man who stood beside you. You turned your eyes toward where the prince placed his gaze intensely. “Oh, my prince, this is Prince Martin Martell,” You introduced, and you felt Martin stepped forward and bowed. “Martell? Are you not a long way from Drone?” Aemond gritted as he let out his hand to shake the prince’s hand. He wanted to smirk as he saw the man’s tanned face twist into a wince before quickly masking it. “Yes, my prince, I come as a suitor for my lady,” He explained, and Aemond pursed his lips at his words. 

You licked your lips as you suddenly felt the fresh air become tense, “Would anyone like some tea?” You suddenly interrupted the intense gazes of the two princes, walking in between them as you made your way toward a nearby table that had the afternoon’s refreshments. Aemond tapped his finger on the table, his eye shifting between you and your intended whilst you poured tea into everyone’s cup. “If I may ask, what business warrants your presence here, Prince Aemond?” Prince Martin inquired, and Aemond reluctantly shifted his attention from you, who was licking sugar from your fingers. 

“A proposal for House Tyrell,” he said bluntly, swallowing thickly as your lips parted at the mention of your house. “What proposal, if I may ask,” Your turn to inquire. Aemond licked his lips and debated if he should give you the true manner of his visit. “A proposal for you, my lady, to be a princess of Westeros.” You feel dazed by his words, your body freezing in shock, and you seem to forget how to breathe. 

Aemond looked at you expectantly, trying to search for any reaction in your eyes other than the pronounced shock. You were saved from his expectation of a reply when you heard your father calling for you. “I— excuse me, my princes,” You say in a haste and hurriedly went to your father’s call. 

“What is happening— the prince just informed me of his proposal— in front of Prince Martell!” You panicked, recalling the scene to your father with wide eyes. You watched as your father paused his lips, an aggravated sigh leaving his nose. “Bold of him to inform you of such proposals when I had not even given him my reply.” You shook your head and warily turned to the gardens, where you saw two princes seated by a distance. 

“Where did this proposal come from? I… I do not understand,” You whispered, recalling your days in the Red Keep; the moments with the prince that you tried to sell to yourself were meaningless to him. However, you supposed you sold yourself with a lie because those moments were enough for him to ask for your hand. Hope was dangerously blooming in your heart, emotions, and festering feelings you tried hard not to succumb to for the past days, now inevitable. 

“The proposal comes because the crown cannot pay the debt due to us… instead, they are offering a marriage between you and the prince and a fourth of the sum owed,” The hope that was dangerously blooming and had rooted itself in your heart quickly wilted, willing yourself not to show disappointment on your face. “Oh,” Was all you could utter. “What is your decision then?” You asked quietly as your father guided you further into the walls of your home. 

“Your courtship with Prince Martell has been settled for three years since your sixteenth name day, but no formal betrothals are in place, and we are in no obligation to the Martells,” Your father stated as you two walked along the corridors. “But Sunspear is a long way from here,” Your father added, “And though Kingslanding is closer, and if I were being honest, I would prefer you to be a princess of the whole of the seven kingdoms rather than just Dorne,” You twirled with your hair as you listening into your father’s musing. “But this marriage is just a way out of their hefty debt,��� You nodded along and waited for your father to decide. 

“So? Which one of them?” You asked as you needed an answer, your nerves growing unbearable. Your father took in a deep breath, “I shall leave that decision to you… it is you who shall marry one of them; the money is not truly that much of a concern— it was simply a bargaining tool for the crown to remember how indebted they were to us,” Your father explained, and your lips parted as you were given a daunting task. 

“Can I speak with Prince Aemond for a moment? I… it is— I need to speak with him,” you say, and your father gives the nod, “I shall have him meet you in the drawing room,” You waited nervously for the prince, your mind running as to what to say to him. You stood when the prince entered the room, your lips parting, ready to speak something you were uncertain of, but Prince Aemond spoke first. 

“I know this is quite abrupt,” Aemond spoke and dared to step close to you, trying not to grow distracted by your mere ethereal presence. “It is my prince,” You agreed. “Could I just ask why?” Aemond frowned at your words; it was quite a straightforward proposal. “The crown owes your house,” He said matter of factly, “I know, but we ask for coins or land but not a marriage,” Aemond licked his lips, “And I am aware that the marriage is a substitute. However, you would understand that no one would be that inclined to accept a proposal just because the one giving the proposal is in debt.” 

“Is this a rejection?” Aemond took another step, closing most of the gap between you. He was aware that he was scowling severely, scarily even, but you did not seem to be frightened, a first for anyone he had encountered. “More of a question,” Aemond’s brows raised at your words. “Well, it’s clear that this proposal is just an obligation for you, and if I am being honest… I prefer someone who would not see a mere business dealing.” 

“All marriages are business dealings,” You pursed your lips at the prince’s words. “I supposed they are… but not every marriage is just a business dealing.” Aemond licked his lips, and the both of you were enveloped in silence. “I guess what I’m saying is… I would not feel inclined to choose someone who proposes because it is their obligation,” You say slowly, surprised that you managed to come across your answer. If it were any other situation where the crown was not indebted to your house, you would accept the proposal eagerly, but your heart idealistic heart yearned for someone who wanted you truly and did not see you as a mere opportunity. 

“My lady, I think you have gotten the wrong idea here,” You furrowed your brows as all were clear to you. The proposal was just an obligation… isn’t it? “No one forced me into this proposal; the queen could not find a solution. This marriage had not even crossed her mind— I…” Aemond passed as you waited on bated breath for his explanation. “I have offered the marriage not because of duty or a way for the crown to escape their debt but because… I— I want you. I want you to be my wife.” 

You looked at him with clear apprehension, and Aemond actually believed that you would flash him your sweet smile— perhaps a blush on your cheeks as he had said words so unlike him. “You want me?” You asked incredulously, and Aemond nodded, boldly taking your hands into his. “But why? We barely know each other?” You asked. Frowning as your eyes go downwards toward your hands clasped with the prince’s cold ones. “Why?” Aemond asked in disbelief you would ask such a question? You nodded. 

“Because I just do,” Aemond licked his lips as it would appear that that was the wrong answer, watching as you stole away your hand and your lips turned into an adorable pout he was very much tempted to kiss. “I— Because you are pretty, overly pretty,” Aemond spoke and hoped that would sway your mind, but that seemed even to offend you. “And because you are knowledgeable, I have never met anyone who had the same philosophical interests as me,” Aemond quickly added, and he wanted to smile as that lessened your frown. 

“And most of all, because you are kind. You are… you are not one to judge— you came to Kingslanding without any criticism or fear of me. You actually saw me as an actual person and not…” Aemond trailed as he felt a sense of relief as he said the words he thought none could ever compel him to do so. “Not like a weapon?” You almost laughed as you often heard others allude to him as such. Aemond nodded and took your hands into his once more. 

“You want me because I was kind and took an interest in you?” You asked, making certain that was his reasoning. Aemond nodded and dared to tuck a stray hair that obstructed his view of your face. “If that is all that it took, what if then another comes along and presents you with such kindness and interest… am I simply to be set to the side?” Aemond sighed and cupped your cheek as he felt his stomach twist at your words and at the look of doubt in your enchanting eyes. “What if—“ You were ready to voice out another doubting scenario, but your lips were kissed shut. 

You feel heat bloom into your cheeks, and you are stunned as you feel the prince’s thin and cool lips upon yours. Your eyes were wide at the sudden contact, but they fluttered to a close as you savored the feel and taste of him. “I do not know what more to say to quench the doubts in you… but you must know, I have never felt such a way— I have never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want you.” Aemond whispered against your lips as you breathed heavily, your body feeling afloat and alight. 

“The situation is not the most favorable one; believe me, I understand your qualms— but it is the only opportunity I had to make you mine,” You feel liquid fill your stomach, and words cannot find you. The only thing you could do was go to the tip of your toes and kiss the prince’s lips once more, a chaste kiss than the first, but it was a kiss that gave the prince his answer. 

Three moons passed before your nuptials were settled. You stood by the door of the great hall, waiting for it to open and lead you to your soon-to-be husband. “Are you certain?” Your father asked as he clasped his arms with yours. You breathed out a laugh and nodded your head eagerly. “I am,” You said with a smile and took a deep breath as you heard the trumpets from the other side of the door. 

Aemond sighed longingly as he saw the smile on your lips again. The smile that he had never been the receiver of before. The sweet and kind smile that led to all of this. 

You beamed at your groom as he took your hand into yours, unable to remove your gaze from his unique lilac eye throughout the whole of the ceremony. “I am his, and he is mine,” You recited after the Maester, feeling Aemond lightly squeeze your hand as you said the words, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. When it was Aemond’s turn, you bit your lip as you felt your smile grow wider, your heart beating loudly in your chest, and delight taking hold of your whole body. “I am hers, and she is mine,” Aemond stated, eye filled with sincerity and promise. 

You breathed in a deep breath as your husband stepped forward to seal your marriage with a kiss, your cheeks burning as you heard the cheers of your guests. “My flower,” Aemond whispered against your lips as you parted, his finger brushing away the stubborn lock of your hair once more. You could only smile upon him, your heart in your eyes— just one act of kindness, a simple smile had been the catalyst for you to find your love. 

You chewed on your cheek in anticipation as you were being led down the halls by your husband, the bedding ceremony promptly taking place after the feast. 

Aemond spared no second before claiming your soft, sweet lips once more. Gently pushing you upon a pillar in his chambers to keep you steady and flush against his body. “Aemond,” You called as you clung to his neck, his lips trailing downwards and his fingers undoing the laces of your gown. “You’re all mine, my flower… forever bound to me, my kind little wife.” Aemond hummed as he tasted your skin, his lips kissing your bare shoulders, the sleeves of your dress draping off. “I’m yours, my prince,” You sighed, but you felt slight dread in your stomach as he clicked his tongue in disapproval and slowly shook his head. “I am your husband… you must learn to call me by my name; no more titles and formalities,” Aemond lowly said, wanting to hear his name be uttered from your lips. 

You nodded, “I’m all yours, Aemond,” You said and whimpered as your husband’s eye darkened, and he forcefully slammed your lips. You feel your dress pool to the floor as he successfully removes it; he takes hold of one of your thighs and makes you cling to him, leading you to your shared bed. Aemond gently laid you down and parted your lips to admire the view of you sprawled before him. The thin sheet of your shift reveals all to him. 

You gasped in utter shock as you felt him tear away the thin cover you had, fully exposing you to him. A strained moan left your throat as Aemond dipped down and took one of your tits into the hot cavern of his mouth, his tongue teasing the bud. You clung to his silvery locks; just that action alone made your core tighten painfully. Aemond smirked as he moved to pay attention to the neglected mound, your hips grinding upon his as you sought friction. 

“Aemond, I…” You called, uncertain of what you wanted, but all you knew was that you needed more. “Yes, wife?” He hummed and placed open-mouth kisses upon your stomach. “I… I—“ You stuttered, not knowing what to ask. Aemond sighed and moved his head to kiss your lips, “Do you want more… do you want to be pleasure, my flower?” He asked, as he could not be so cruel to leave you in such a state for much longer. You eagerly nodded your head. 

It did not take long for you to be a moaning mess, your eyes rolled back in your head, and your back arched as Aemond placed his mouth upon your cunny. Licking and teasing your folds, “Aemond! Oh, gods!” You called in utter pleasure as you felt his thin lips enclose your sensitive bud, sucking and licking it. You battled with your mind-numbing pleasure as you propped yourself on your elbows to watch his actions. He looked up at you, grinning as his fingers teased your undefiled whole. You bit your lip and breathed heavily, boldly taking hold of the leather strap of his eye patch. You saw as his eye darkened, and you hesitated, but Aemond gave a nod. 

As you removed his eye patch, Aemond pressed his finger into you, your eyes rolling back as you saw his sapphire eye. Aemond returned his lips to your cunt, sucking on the bud as his fingers pumped in and out. He felt your walls clench around the digits and your moans growing louder. Through your closed eyes, you feel him smirk against your skin and curl the digits inside your cunt— a loud moan leaving your lips as you come undone. Your hips violently move against his face, and the pearl of your cunt hitting gains his angular nose. 

“Oh gods,” You say breathlessly as you feel Aemond’s weight atop of you. You undid the laces of his vest as he removed his trousers. You looked downwards and saw the whole of your husband, his warm, pulsating length resting upon your thigh. The head of his cock weeping a clear liquid. “W… will it fit?” You say in disbelief, never having thought that something so phallic could be so… large and appealing. “Of course, you were made for me, my flower.” Aemond lowly said and kissed your lips as he aligned himself with your cunt. 

You dug your nails onto his shoulders as he slowly tore his way through you. Him hushing your cries of pain and kissing away your tears. “It hurts— Aemond, I… it’s too much,” You cried, your legs wrapping around his waist. Aemond reached downwards and drew circles upon your cunt to aid your pain. You waited for the pain to bleed into pleasure. Aemond tightly shit his eye as he felt the tip of his cock brush against a rough spot in your cunt, him fully sheathed inside you. He made cautious thrusts, watching as you would acclimatize to his length, and when he saw your eyes roll back, that was his sign to fasten his pace. 

Aemond’s found your lips once more, muffling your moans and whimpers as his cock was relentlessly hitting the spongy spot in your cunt that made your core come undone over and over again. You were on the verge of your fourth climax, each of them coming quickly after the other, and your thighs started to shiver at the pleasure that had enveloped you fully. “Aemond… It’s too much. I— husband, I cannot,” You cried as you felt a different sensation, an odd pressure in your core unalike the other times you came. Aemond clenched his jaw as his cock twitched inside your cunt, “Just… come for me one more time, my flower,” He gritted as he wanted to coax another peak from you. 

Aemond laid his thumb flat against your nubbin and rubbed circles once more, your voice already hoarse from your loud moans. “Oh… Aemond!” You cried as the quivering of your thighs grew, and you felt the pressure in your core come undone; a differing climax from the first three overcame you. Aemond groaned loudly and tilted his head back as he spilled his seed deep in your cunt. You breathed heavily as you tried to comprehend what had happened, wetness pooling between your thighs, and an embarrassed blush spread through your cheeks and neck. 

Aemond smirked and shook his head, trying to soothe the mortification in your eyes. “I knew you were capable of it,” He hummed and kissed your lips. He knew it was perhaps too much to test your limits in your first night together, but he could not help himself; he needed to have you in such a way. “My perfect wife,” he hummed against your skin, and your reply came through your tired smile. 

[enwoso]

HOW COULD I? | alessia russo

masterlist | what a treat two in the past day for you all!

as alessia groggily blinked awake, stretching out in the now empty bed. the warm space beside her already cold menacing you had been up for a while.

which was weird. normally, birthday or not, you’d wake her up with soft kisses, breakfast in bed, or at the very least whispering sweet nothing in her ear.

but today? silence.

as she turned over reaching over for her phone as it sat on the nightstand, tapping the screen but it was blank. nothing.

no ‘happy birthday baby!’

no heart emoji.

not even a gif.

as she climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen, you sat at the breakfast counter, scrolling mindlessly through your phone with your usual cup of tea. you already dressed for training, your hair a little damp as it fell into loose waves over your hoodie.

at the sound of footsteps, you glanced up with a soft, easy smile. “morning, less” you said glancing up as the blonde walked straight past to get her coffee mug. she waited, but nothing. no mention of the fact that today was alessia’s day.

“morning,” alessia muttered, moving to the fridge as she grabbed the milk a little more aggressively than necessary as she practically slammed it onto the counter.

you turned, blinked at her, “wow, has that milk offended you or something?”

alessia just ignored you, continue to make her usual morning coffee the way you usual did. but she could still feel your face on her, the amused tilt of your head and the way you were clearly studying her.

but then without warning, you appeared behind het, your hands slipping around her waist as you rested your chin on her shoulder. you melting into her warmth.

“why’s my girl so grumpy this morning?” you whispered, pressing a slow kiss to alessia’s jaw. a sharp exhale coming from alessia. your lips were warm, soft - too distracting.

“‘m not.” she mumbled, focusing hard on her coffee and not where your lips were.

“you so are.” your hands tightened on her waist, holding the blonde that little bit closer. “you’re all grumpy and pouty and slamming stuff around..” you said as you planted another kiss but this time it was just below her ear. “very sexy of you, by the way.”

alessia tried so hard not just to melt into you, give in and just forget about the fact you’d seemingly forgotten the date. “i’m fine.”

you chuckled, resting your chin back into alessia’s shoulder as you hummed, “if you say so” as you moved your face to nuzzle into her neck, your warm breath lingering on her skin. “you wanna talk about it?”

no cause if she did, she’d have to admit that she was feeling stupidly upset that her own girlfriend has seemingly forgotten her birthday.

“i said, i’m fine.” alessia mumbled moving to sit where you’d previously been as she took a sip of her coffee.

you hummed, you knew why she was in a huff but it was all for a good cause as much as it did hurt to see your girl so stroppy.

“alright” you shrugged and with that you pressed one last kiss to the side of her neck, then stepping away like nothing had happened as you mumbled off that you were going to call you mum as you waited for her to get ready for training.

alessia clenched her jaw. fabulous. now she was in an even worse mood.

—

by the time the two of you had arrived at training, alessia was fully sulking. the blonde dragging her feet as you hurried off into training, knowing if you spent to long with the stroppy blonde you’d end up ruining what you had in store.

as you drove, alessia had spent the entire drive psyching herself up as she tried to convince herself that it was fine that her own girlfriend had forgotten her birthday.

maybe you’d been busy. maybe you would remember later.

or maybe, a scowl growing deeper on the blonde face as she shoved her kit bag into her locker, maybe you really did just forget.

beth was the first one to greet her, “happy birthday, less!” she said with her usual bright smile, clapping a hand on alessia’s shoulder.

alessia barely even bothered to look up, “at least someone remembered.”

beth’s eyebrows shot up, taken back by the blondes snappiness, “okay, ouch.”

lia and katie, who’d been standing nearby both glanced up and exchanged a quick look to one another before going suspiciously quiet.

beth, however, was already sitting beside alessia nudged her slightly with her knee, “right what’s got you in such a strop and on your birthday.”

alessia just huffed kicking her trainers off with more force than was necessary as she moved to put her boots on, “y/n forgot my birthday.”

beth blinked, “did she?”

“yep” alessia slammed her locker shut as she popped the p in the word before turning to face beth, “she hasn’t said a word. nothing over text. just morning, less as if today is just another day.”

beth pressed her lips together as if she was fighting back a smirk as if she knew something alessia didn’t. because of course, she knew. she knew about the entire surprise that you had planned.

“maybe she’s just waiting for the right moment” beth suggested, trying her best to just play it off and change the subject, but it wasn’t really working considering the thunder look on alessia’s face.

alessia scoffed, “sure, cause saying happy brithday requires perfect timing!”

beth made a noncommittal noise as she leaned back against the bench, “i dunno less, she might surprise you.”

alessia shot her a glare, unimpressed by the words of wisdom given by beth, “i doubt it now.”

lia covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing and katie turned away completely, pretending to tie her laces even though they were already double knotted.

beth, barely holding it together, patted alessia’s knee in a comforting way, “time will tell.”

alessia groaned as she buried her face into her hands. “this is the officially the worst birthday ever.”

beth bit her lip to stop herself from laughing and giving away the whole surprise, only one thing in head. ‘oh, just wait less.’

—

by the time training ended, alessia was over it. you’d left training early your excuse being you had a doctors appointment as alessia still had a face like thunder and nothing anything said could be done to put a smile on her face.

alessia showered, got dressed and checked her phone for the hundredth time — still nothing.

with a sigh, she shoved her phone into pocket in her joggers and grabbed her keys throwing her backpack onto her shoulder.

but then just as she was about to leave , her phone buzzed in her pocket.

you❤️ | *address name*

you❤️ | come to this address i’ve sent you. wear something nice x

alessia frowned pausing mid step in the middle of the training centre. clicking on the location on her phone. she expected it to be a restaurant or maybe their apartment. but it wasn’t somewhere completely unfamiliar.

her heart skipped. no explanation. no hints. just come to this address.

for second, she debated ignoring it. maybe she should be the one to make you wait like you had done with her all day.

but despite herself, curiosity won and got the better of her. so with one last glance at the cryptic text she reacted to the chat as she sighed, placing her phone back in her pocket and setting off.

—

when alessia got to the address, not before checking the address she type was right as the venue was dim, the windows tinted meaning she couldn’t see into the restaurant.

the blonde hesitated as her hand rested on the door handle. what the heck was on the other side of the door?pushing the door open, she stepped inside as the lights burst on.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LESS!!”

alessia’s heart nearly gave out. her entire family was there. her teammates both club and international, childhood friend and every single person who meant something to her and right at the front, with the biggest grin stood you.

alessia clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes darting over the decorations, the banner, the giant cake with her name written on it in big pink bold icing.

“you-” she turned towards you, completely in awe. “you didn’t forget?”

you scoffed, stepping closer as your hands rested on her waist. “of course i didn’t forget silly!”

a breathless laugh left alessia’s lips, “i was so mad at you.”

you chuckled as a smirk appeared on your lips, “oh i know, beth told me all about your little tantrum.”

alessia shot a glare towards beth, who just grinned playfully. “told you she’d surprise you!”

alessia just her eyes but she couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on her lips as she turned back to you and pulled you in by your hips as she pressed your forehead to hers.

“i love you.” she murmured.

you grinned, bringing a hand up to her cheek, “i know, now kiss me before beth starts making fun of us.”

alessia just let out a giggle as she did just that.

—

the night was perfect. at some point when everything was starting to die down a little, people were socialising in there own little ways as you were sat on alessia’s lap. your arms lazily draped around her neck as you traced random patterns on her shoulder.

“you really thought i forgot?” you mumbled, brushing the side of face so it was next to alessia’s, her moving a strand of hair out from your face.

alessia sighed dramatically, “well what was i supposed to think? you woke up as if it was a normal day.”

you chuckled, tilting your head as you continued to draw small little patterns on her shoulder which every so often made little goosebumps. “poor baby. must’ve been so hard for you.”

“you’re so annoying.”

you smirked as you moved to press a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth, “but you still love me”

alessia just hummed as she fidgeted with the hem of your shirt every other time moving so her hand slipped up your top, “unfortunately”

you gasped in most offense, pinching her shoulder, “take that back!”

alessia giggled, shaking her head. “make me.”

and of course you did exactly that - capturing her lips in a kiss so soft, so gentle that the rest of the party melted away as if you two were the only ones there.

you cupped alessia’s face, rubbing your thumbs over her cheekbones like you were trying to memorise every inch of her - as if you didn’t already. alessia melting into you, her hands curling around your waist, pulling you even closer as if she couldn’t ever get enough.

your foreheads staying pressed together afterward whispering things which were only meant for each other.

“i love you.” you mumbled against her lips, quieter this time. just for her to hear. alessia’s fingers curled into the fabric of your dress, her heart feeling too full for words.

but before alessia could respond, kyra groaned from across the room, “okay, we get it- you’re gonna get married one day. no need to rub it in our faces?”

laughter erupted around you, a few of the girls giggling on but you just turned to alessia with a knowing smirk.

“not a bad idea, actually” alessia flushed as she bit her lip, a big grin appearing on your face.

maybe, just maybe… it wasn’t.

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 4

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

The corner of his lips was wet as saliva slid down to his chin. There was a lack of oxygen in his actions as his head felt cornered. His tongue ran flat against her folds, burying his face deeper as his tongue sneaked in and his nose rubbed against her clit messily. 

Both arms held her legs open as his chin knocked against the corners of his desk. He opened his mouth to take even more of her. 

“Ah-! Cap-” She timidly moaned his name while twitching against his face, spasming over the surface as her body reacted on its own under his actions. Levi had never fetishized the nurse uniform, but being buried between her legs with her skirt raised enough for him to hide his head under it while he ate her out was certainly a bonus. 

“Mhh-” he groaned against her clit as he sucked it directly, eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation. Vibrations of his voice mixed with the electricity that ran down her spine each time he played with her pussy. 

“Cap- AH!” her back arched against the cold surface as he hit a particularly good spot with his fingers as they sneaked in. Her nails sank into the wood, perhaps leaving scratches on Levi’s polished surface, but he didn’t care. “Captain, that’s enough-” 

‘Enough? I’ve been waiting for this for months,’ Levi wished he could remain buried between her legs for hours, days in a row. Suck her dry and drink it all as the thirsty man he was. He just couldn’t get enough; she tasted divine, and he was starving. 

He could almost sob at how good it felt, frowning deeply as he had to suppress a moan as he slipped in. Groans reverberated in his throat as he began to thrust. He could feel it all, how wet she was, her walls twitching against his cock as if they tried to milk him dry. Her pants of air each time he bottomed out fogging the desk surface, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the office, her soft skin under his grip as he held her hips in place, her pulse against his fingertips as he softly squeezed her throat. 

A part of him told him that he was enjoying it way too much to finally have her under him, pinned on his desk, hearing her whimpers each time he went balls deep and the head of his cock hit her cervix. It was sinful how badly he wanted her, how much he adored her well-fucked face with plump red parted lips, half-lidded teary eyes, and messy locks falling into her face and sticking to it. 

“Ah- NHg- Ah!” her moans mixed with the wet sounds of their fucking as he bent down to rest his chest against her back and suck her shoulder blades, “I’m close! Don’t stop, don’t-!” 

“Fuck- I’m close too,” he grunted out but didn’t stop, his attention divided between keep hitting that place that made her legs shake and her walls press against his dick and not cumming inside her. 

But between her heavy pants, she let slip, “Don’t pull out.” 

It made him freeze momentarily, “Don’t pull out. Ah- Fill me up, fill me up, Captain,” she repeated while arching her back, pushing back to meet his thrust. 

“Holy fuck-” Levi grunted out, gripping her hair and pulling her head upwards as he panted against her ear. Who was he to go against her wishes? It’s not like he hadn’t been dreaming of this—dreaming of filling her up, claiming her as his, breeding her each spare second he got. And it was finally his chance, his chance to fulfil the idea he had since the very first time he laid eyes on her. 

“Ah- Fuck, tell me. Tell me how much you fucking want it,” he demanded. 

But she didn’t reply. The only thing he could feel was the wet sensation dripping down his chin, the lack of air, and the cold surface. Cold surface? 

Levi’s upper body snapped upward, sitting straight as his eyes tried to accommodate to the darkness of the room. His right hand moved to clean the saliva dripping from his chin, and his whole body felt the chills of the dropping temperatures in those early hours. Grimacing in confusion, he looked down at the report he had probably been working on before he fell asleep, now stained with his own saliva. 

Disappointment, embarrassment, and confusion mixed together in a groan as he rubbed his hair, trying to knock some wakefulness into his brain. “This is so humiliating,” Levi muttered, feeling uncomfortable either because sleeping in the uniform wasn’t the best sensation or because it felt particularly uncomfortable. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” 

He rose from his place at the desk and walked to the bathroom, defeated. “This morning can’t start worse.” 

Three knocks at the door proved him wrong. ‘Maybe if I ignore it, they will go away.’ 

“Captain?” a young voice pierced the silence of the early morning. “There are two cadets fighting in the barracks.” 

“Fuck me,” Levi whispered as he closed his eyes in resignation. 

Maybe it was because winter had come and they had suspended the expeditions outside the walls until the weather improved. No expeditions meant no wounded soldiers, and don’t get Levi wrong, it’s not that he wished for that. But those were his only excuses to pass by the hospital and see if he could catch a glimpse of her. And the last time they interacted... well, let’s say he wasn’t the smoothest. 

“You look tired as shit,” the words left his mouth before he could think of something better. 

“Oh, yeah, there’s been a lot of work because many people are getting the flu since the government only sent enough vaccines for the kids,” she said with heavy dark circles and a pale complexion. “Maybe I should put some concealer on-” 

“Tch, I didn’t mean that,” Levi feared his words being mistaken once again. 

“Maybe you should go, Captain. It’s not a good time to leave the countryside. What will the scouts do if you catch the flu?” 

Levi looked at her dead in the eyes, waiting, HOPING, she didn’t mean it. “I can’t get it,” he said, mostly disappointed. “I got the shot.” 

“Oh, you did! Well, lucky you,” she said enthusiastically. 

“You gave it to me.” 

The smile on her face slowly withdrew as she tried to recall, and when the memory finally clicked, the grin returned, this time with nervousness. “You’re right!” 

Levi felt as if he was staring into the abyss, as if all his sacrifice was in vain because she didn’t even recall it. “How did that go?” Y/N asked, perhaps trying to keep the conversation going as the soldier fell silent. 

“... Like shit,” Levi muttered, recalling he was ill for easily two days. 

She giggled nervously. “Well... look at the bright side. At least you won’t get the flu now!” 

Levi, defeated, simply said, “I never get the flu, actually. Before that, I couldn’t recall the last time I had a fever.” 

Levi cursed himself, ‘I should have just fucking lied.’ But his mood worsened when he realized he did all that, and she couldn’t even recall it. ‘Between me and the stupid cadets fighting in the barracks, there’s no difference.’ 

That thought carried special weight after that morning event that Levi preferred to forget. Even if they had no expeditions, the work was never-ending. It felt like everyone in the scouts needed him everywhere, all the time. Piles and piles of paperwork were waiting for him back at the office, and training in the freezing training grounds when he could feel his hair freezing wasn’t helping either. 

The weight of his body fell on his desk chair with a loud sigh. He slacked against the red chenille, his fingertips pressing against the bridge of his nose. Just when he thought some calmness and a nice warm tea to accompany his paperwork was all he had left, someone knocked timidly at the door. 

Levi clicked his tongue, “What?!” his angry voice pierced the room as he wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone else. 

The door creaked open, and any attitude in Levi’s body disappeared as Y/N’s face appeared through. 

“Hi? Sorry, a soldier let me in.” 

‘Did I fall asleep again? What is she doing here, in my office?’ 

She took a step in while carrying something in her hands. “I just have to give you something before I go to talk to Erwin. I won’t bother you long,” her voice seemed quieter and her attitude more defensive than usual. “I’m sorry for interrupting.” 

Levi felt his heart sink, ‘No, no, I’m not angry at you. Shit, don’t be scared of me... I’ll never hurt you.’ 

“You’re not interrupting me,” was all he said curtly as he rose from his seat. “What are you doing here?” 

‘Nicer, NICER! Say it fucking nicer!’ 

“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t come to waste your time,” she replied. 

‘See? She feels threatened!’ 

“I wanted to give you this,” she said, pushing the package into his hands. “It’s a ‘I’m sorry I made you get a fever, please forgive me’ cake.” 

Her arms placed the bag with what Levi assumed was a cake. He felt speechless. Luckily for Levi, as the night they met, Y/N didn’t have an issue doing the talking. 

“I was thinking, ‘What could I give him that he’d enjoy?’” she began to ramble. 

‘What could you give me? I got plenty of options... no no, focus you idiot, focus.’ 

“And then I thought, who doesn’t like cake?” 

‘... me... I don’t like cake.’ 

“So I made you my specialty! Upside-down caramel apple cake, very sweet, very caramelly to fight the winter.” 

There was a brief silence that was filled with her smiling back at him. “So... am I forgiven?” she insisted, with a subtle cheekiness as if it never crossed her mind that her apology idea wasn’t good. 

“... Ehm,” 

‘Whatever you do, motherfucker, DON’T tell her you don’t like sweet shit.’ 

“Yeah, thank you.” 

“Great!” She clapped her hands with enthusiasm and a big bright smile. 

‘See... it wasn’t that hard. I’ll just give it to any of the shitty brats I have as cadets and end of the deal-’ 

“Erwin told me he will receive me in a minute because he’s having a meeting. He told me I could come over and have tea with you. I’ll cut the cake for us.” 

‘Fuck-’ 

Red lights turned on in his mind as soon as she mentioned that. 

“I mean... if you don’t mind,” Y/N’s enthusiasm dropped quickly as she noticed his deep frown and conflicted expression. 

“No-” 

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your girlfriend or something.” 

‘SHIT, she truly thinks I’m fucking taken! Now, let's just turn down that idea smoothly.’ 

“I don’t know who told you that shit, but I’m not taken.” 

“Oh-” His voice had come out more severe than he anticipated, and perhaps the permanent frown on his face didn’t help him seem more approachable. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to overstep.” 

“I’ll just pay Hange a visit then and wait there. Sorry for the inconvenience-” 

“No,” he quickly added, cutting her mid-sentence and sounding more like an order than anything else. She froze midway with wide open eyes, one hand holding the wrapped cake and the other scratching the back of her head. “I mean, no... stay. I already have the tea.” 

‘Like that, you fucking asshole, quieter.’ 

“You’re not... bothering me,” 

Four words he had been trying to say in half of all their interactions. 

She hummed in understanding. “Alright then.” 

Levi quickly left the cake on his desk and began to make space for them to have a moment. The nervousness in his movements made him ashamed. ‘I’m a grown-ass man, man up!’ 

The scarf and hat came off as she took off some of her outside clothes once settled in. Her curious eyes roamed around the place, catching little details. “Did you move in recently?” she asked, making Levi freeze as he was putting aside piles of paperwork. 

Frowning heavily, “No,” he said, confused about what made her arrive at that conclusion. 

“Oh, you’re into minimalism then! I like it.” 

‘That’s what nice people with way better social skills than mine say when they’re not trying to say that your place feels like you’ve been evicted.’ 

He pressed his lips together. Once the desk had been cleared of work, he moved to the tea set he had originally made for himself and began to prepare a cup. 

“Could mine be with two sugar cubes or honey, please?” she said while taking a seat in front of his desk. “Cream too, please.” 

Levi stopped midway and looked down at what he was brewing. The idea of something more than strong black tea had never crossed his mind. That’s when he realized that when Erwin had people over for meetings, he always had options, something Levi probably hardly ever considered because he didn’t like people, so he hardly ever invited someone over. 

No panic, he was a soldier; soldiers act under pressure. “Sure,” he replied, and before she could add anything else, Levi walked to the door and did a fast-paced walk to the higher-ups' kitchen, opened a cabinet that obviously had “Erwin’s” tag on it, and took what he needed. If the blond had any particular issue with it, he could always blame Hange. It wouldn’t be the first time the brunette stole food from him, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

Back inside, two cups were between them, face to face, with one piece of cake for each. 

“The countryside is very nice, isn’t it,” she mentioned casually, making some small talk to which Levi only nodded in agreement before taking another sip of his tea. “Did you like the cake?” 

He almost choked, her dreamy eyes haunting him, expectant. His hand grabbed the fork and cut a small piece. 

‘We used to eat moldy bread in the underground, let’s not be a pussy and eat this. You bite, you swallow, and then you pretend you enjoy it.’ 

And he did exactly that, despite his dislike for the heavily sweet taste. “Not bad,” he muttered, hoping it was the end of it. 

“I’m so happy you like it.” 

Ah, her beautiful smile with the setting winter’s sun coming through the window and landing on her face. Absolutely worth it. 

Thankfully for him, she was cheerful and he didn’t have to do much. She began to tell him that she was doing some apprenticeships to be a midwife, so she volunteered to help with some births around the area. That’s why she traveled. She was studying heavily, and she had two roommates aside from her babies. Everything went smoothly until- 

“Your desk is very nice, Captain.” 

The tea almost made it to his nose as he choked on it. Bad... bad combination of words considering what he had just dreamed of her a couple of hours ago. 

“Very sturdy,” she mentioned as she ran one hand over the wood. “It’s very nice quality.” 

‘Holy shit...’ Levi’s rational side, and not the one who behaved like a horny teenage boy, insisted she was just trying to make him feel included in the conversation, giving him a chance to talk about himself more. 

“You polish it frequently, don’t you?” 

‘I’d gladly polish it with you on top- No, God... don’t give me such hard battles.’ 

“Yes,” was all he said as he put all his self-control into not recalling the mental images his own brain created about her spread out on top of it. 

Her rhythmic tapping against the surface made him even more nervous. He could perceive her uneasiness. ‘What are you thinking? Please be me...’ 

“So, um...” she cleared her throat and her cheeks tinted. Levi felt as if all the warning signs in his body turned on as if his Ackerman powers got ready for an attack. “I... I hope I’m not overstepping.” 

‘Oh no... oh no.’ 

“But since you mentioned you don’t have a special someone in your life right now...” 

‘Oh YES! Yes! That’s more like it.’ His stoic expression gave nothing away, but his back straightened up immediately, readying himself for what he felt was coming. 

“Mh, you see... I don’t know you that well.” Levi felt as if each word drew him closer to his goal but farther away at the same time, like an optical illusion in the desert. “But, I mean, I don’t lose anything by trying.” 

‘Just kiss me or kill me already, for fuck’s sake.’ 

“One of my friends would very much appreciate it if you gave her a chance.” 

‘... and she chose to kill me. Great. Next time, point to my head so it doesn’t hurt so fucking much.’ 

“I’m... not interested, nothing to do with your friend,” he muttered. The words left his lips with a resignation hard to explain but easy to feel. 

‘Come on... let’s fucking admit it, she’s asking me on behalf of a friend. Which, by the way, is something that Erwin couldn’t fucking do. She’s simply not into me, that’s all. Let’s buckle up, be a man, and understand when it’s time to take a step back.’ 

“So, that’s all?” Hange asked with their mouth full. “She came all the way here, gave you a cake, and you just let her go... like that?” 

“What the fuck did you expect me to do, kidnap her?” Levi answered as he admired his friend eating the entire cake that was meant for him. 

“No! But you could have said, ‘I’m not interested in your friend because I’m interested in you!’” 

“If she’s asking on behalf of a friend, it’s because she’s not interested,” Levi argued back as if his conclusion was obvious. 

“She’s not interested because you’ve been acting like a pussy!” Hange shouted back with their mouth still full. 

“Oi...” Levi complained as if the accusation had felt personal. 

“You know what you should do? Go there, wait outside Erwin’s office so when they are done, you can offer to walk her to take the ferry back to the Capital. Actively show her that you’re interested.” 

Levi grimaced uneasily. “Why would a girl want some random dude like me to walk her anywhere? I'm as much of a danger as any other fucker out there.” 

“’CAUSE, you’re Erwin’s friend. She already considers you a nice person by association. Walk her, spend time with her, FUCKING TALK TO HER.” 

For the first time in their friendship, it seemed like Hange was the one losing their patience and not him. Levi just clicked his tongue, but the brunette wasn’t done. “You better go and do it...” 

“Or else?” 

“Or else, I’m going to ask her on behalf of a friend. And I’m not Erwin... I won’t smoothly wonder if maybe she’s interested. No, no, I’ll show up there and say, ‘Hey, my friend is getting callouses on his hand from jerking off thinking of you. Would you consider getting your guts rearranged by humanity’s strongest soldier? Thank you.’” 

Levi felt the colour drain from his face and his soul. The death glare was quick to appear. “You wouldn't fucking dare.” 

Hange’s Cheshire smile crept onto their features. Was Levi considering that his day was going to end with him chasing Hange down the corridors and tackling them to the floor before they managed to open Erwin’s office? OBVIOUSLY not. 

“Stop resisting, four eyes!” Levi tried to keep them in place. One of his hands was covering their mouth as his body did everything he could to drag them back to their office. 

“Are you alright?” Her voice brought both back to reality as she looked at them extremely confused, one eyebrow raised and a deep frown. Erwin, who was behind her, covered his face in second-hand embarrassment. 

“No-” Once he dropped his guard, Hange licked Levi’s hand as a secret weapon that made the short man’s clean freak instincts kick in, withdrawing it in disgust. 

Shaking his hand in the air to get the saliva off, Hange took the moment he was busy to say, “Y/N, sweetie, I was wondering if I could ask you a question. You see-” 

“I’ll walk you!” 

There was dead silence reigning in the place, but with mixed reactions. Erwin tried to dissociate from the situation as it felt absurdly childish. Y/N was simply not getting whatever was going on. Hange couldn’t hold back a prideful, sassy smirk as they got what they wanted. And Levi? Levi felt he was boiling in his own embarrassment. 

“Tch, I mean. You capital people are so stupidly carefree, it’s too late. I’ll walk you to the station,” Levi smoothed the situation out. However, deep down he wanted to hide himself in a tiny, dark, humid place and never leave. 

“Aw, that’s so nice of you! If it’s not much of a bother, I’ll feel safer with you around. It gets darker earlier at this time of year. Thank you,” She smiled, she blushed, she thanked him, and more importantly, she ignored all his degradating assumptions. 

‘Wait... it was this easy all this time?’ 

Levi did turn around to give Hange a deadly stare and a silent warning of ‘you’ve no idea what I’ll do when I return,’ as he walked down the halls side by side with Y/N. However, they only smiled brightly while raising both thumbs up, cheering him on. 

“What the hell did you tell him?” Erwin asked. 

Hange scoffed proudly and declared, “You can question my methods but not my results.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 Wanna join my tag list? Here! You don't appear on this list? Do not worry! there's a limit of tags and I'll add you in the comments <3

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

When the snowstorm hit, The Bear had no choice but to close, much to Carmy's dismay. He tried to tell himself he could use the time—clean his apartment, read a book, maybe experiment with some recipes—but the thought of sitting in silence, in stillness, made his chest tighten.

Desperate to do something, Carmy had ventured out to the store for some essentials to pass the storm—milk, coffee, cigarettes, bread—anything to keep his hands busy. But as he returned to his apartment building, patting his jacket for his keys, his stomach sank.

"No, no, no..." They weren’t there. Not in his jacket, not in his pants pocket, not even in the grocery bag. Gone. "FUCK!!"

After circling the building twice, retracing his steps, and swearing under his breath at least ten times per minute, Carmy gave up. The snow was falling harder now, and the biting cold seeped into his bones. The growing frustration knotted his shoulders as he called the building’s landlord.

“I'll be there as soon as the snow clears,” the voice on the other end had said. “Probably by morning.”

Morning. Fuck.

With no other options, he’d slumped down against the wall near his apartment door, grocery bags at his feet. At least it was warm inside the building.

He sat there, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed. The stillness felt suffocating, the hum of the heater mocking him with its quiet insistence. The cold of the building seeped through his hoodie, but he didn’t care. What else was there to do? He didn’t want to call anyone but the realization that he might be stuck outside his own apartment all night made him feel a little desperate.

The sound of the elevator dinging down the hall barely registered until it opened. He kept his head down, arms resting on his knees, eyes closed as though he could will himself to forget the situation. He didn’t notice the footsteps until they stopped right in front of him.

“Carmy?” Your voice cut through the quiet like a spark.

The familiar voice snapped him out of his haze, and he looked up to see you standing there, bundled in a colourful coat and scarf, a faint dusting of snow still clinging to your hair. Your arms were full of takeout bags, and your expression was a mix of confusion and concern.

“Hey,” he muttered, sitting up straighter and rubbing a hand over his face. “Didn’t expect to see you.”

“Well, I live here,” you said, setting your takeout on the floor before crouching beside him. “But I didn’t expect to see you sitting on the floor like a lost puppy. What’s going on?”

He hesitated, his pride fighting against the urge to explain. Finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Lost my keys.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “Lost them where?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he muttered, his tone dry but not unkind.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with his snark. “Fair point. How long have you been out here?”

Carmy shrugged. “I don’t know. A while.”

“A while?” you repeated, your voice incredulous. “Carmy, it’s freezing. Why didn’t you call someone?"

He looked away, his expression a mix of discomfort and embarrassment. “Didn’t want to bother anyone.”

You frowned, glancing toward his door and then back at him. “So you were just gonna sit here all night? What, wait or divine intervention? Or are you hoping your door grows a conscience and lets you in?”

“Something like that,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a faint, self-deprecating smirk.

You tilt your head like you were assessing a puzzle. “You look miserable. Not in the charming, tortured artist way, you usually do. Just straight-up pitiful. No offense.”

Carmy blinked, he did not know if that counted as something of a compliment, “... None taken,”

You sighed, shaking your head as you stood abruptly, brushing off your knees. “C’mon, let’s get you out of the hallway before you turn into a Carmy-shaped popsicle.”

“What?” he asked, looking up at you.

“You're coming to my place,” you said firmly, gesturing toward the door in front of his. “I'm not letting you sit in the hallway all night like some tragic Dickensian orphan. You’ll freeze.”

Carmy hesitated, his instinct to refuse warring with the warmth in your voice. “You don’t have to—”

You cut him off with a pointed look.

“I just spent two hours with Ava, who insisted on treating me to an impromptu ‘ladies’ day,’ which turned into me carrying her shopping bags. I am not in the mood to argue. So, get up, Chef Brooding.” You picked up your takeout bags and gestured for him to follow.

“I’m fine, really,” Carmy said, shaking his head. “Don’t want to bother you.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You’d know if you were bothering me. This is me being benevolent. Now, are you getting up, or do I have to drag you? Because I will. And I’m stronger than I look.”

Carmy let out a soft huff, shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his bags. “You’re really not giving me a choice, are you?”

“Nope,” you said brightly, turning to unlock the door of your apartment.

As soon as you opened the door, Carmy was hit with a faint scent of cinnamon and a wave of warmth, the kind that made him realize just how cold he’d been sitting in that hallway. He stepped inside, glancing around as you kicked off your snow-dusted boots and motioned for him to do the same.

“Shoes off, please,” you instructed, kicking yours off by the door and disappearing into the kitchen. “I don’t need melted snow turning my floor into a Slip ’n Slide.”

He obeyed, toeing off his sneakers and setting the grocery bags on the counter. The apartment was small but vibrant, filled with personality in a way Carmy couldn’t help but find... comforting. The walls were a warm cream, though much of them were hidden behind shelves crammed with books, mismatched picture frames, and an assortment of plants that looked like they thrived under your care. A string of fairy lights zigzagged along the windows, casting a soft hue across the room, and a woven rug—splashed with reds, blues, and yellows—anchored the cozy seating area.

The couch was an explosion of color, piled high with throw pillows in every imaginable pattern. A quilt draped over the back looked like it had been handmade, and a small coffee table was cluttered with books, an empty mug with the phrase World’s Okayest Teacher, and what looked suspiciously like a half-finished embroidery project.

On the counter, a ceramic cookie jar in the shape of a llama grinned at him, and next to it sat a stack of papers. Everything about the space was warm, a little chaotic, but somehow effortlessly inviting.

“I wasn’t planning on imposing,” he said after a moment, taking in the space around him.

“You’re not imposing,” you replied, handing him a pair of fluffy socks from a nearby basket. “You’re being rescued. Big difference.”

He stared at the socks—bright orange with cartoon foxes on them—then looked at you. “These yours?”

“Yup,” you said with zero shame as you make your way to the kitchen. “Consider it part of the ‘Guest Package.’ Now, make yourself at home, I'll make us something hot.”

“Uh... sure,” Carmy said, his voice quiet as he wandered further into the room. His gaze drifted to the dog bed tucked under the window—there, on a cushioned dog bed of all things, sat a pigeon—brown, fluffy, and completely at ease. It was curled up, its head tucked under its wing, slumbering as if it owned the place, oblivious to Carmy’s bewildered stare.

For a moment, Carmy wondered if he was hallucinating.

“Hey,” he called, glancing toward the kitchen. “Uh… you know there’s a pigeon in here, right?”

"Hmm?" You poked your head out from behind the cupboard, following his gaze.

“Oh, that’s Gus,” you said nonchalantly as if pigeons lounging on dog beds were an everyday occurrence. “He’s not a pet or anything. Just... kind of showed up one day. I think he was someone’s ‘release dove’ for a wedding or something, but he clearly decided he liked me better.”

Carmy blinked, shifting his gaze between you and Gus. “And... he just lives here now?”

“Well, not technically,” you said, grabbing a pair of mugs from the cabinet. “He comes and goes as he pleases. But he sleeps here most nights. Guess he appreciates my excellent hospitality.”

“Right,” Carmy muttered, still watching Gus as the pigeon let out a soft coo, completely unbothered.

“Hot chocolate okay?” you asked, snapping his attention back to you.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, stepping further into the apartment. The smell of chocolate wafted through the air as you stirred something in a small pot on the stove, and he realized the space felt almost alive with warmth—not just in temperature but in personality. It was so... you.

His eyes wandered again, taking in more details of your space. The small dining table was half-covered with papers—lesson plans, probably, a half-finished puzzle—and a childlike drawing of a sunflower sat front and center, its colors vibrant and cheerful. The edges of the paper were slightly crinkled, but you’d clearly kept it with care. Near the couch, a pair of fluffy slippers lay abandoned, one toppled over as if you’d kicked them off in a hurry.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” you said, glancing up from the stove as if you’d caught him mid-thought. Your tone was casual, but there was a hint of self-consciousness in it, like you were bracing for judgment. “I didn’t expect to host anyone during a snowstorm.”

“It’s not a mess,” Carmy said quietly, his gaze lingering on the twinkling string lights. “It’s... nice.”

“Nice?” you echoed, a playful lilt in your voice as you poured the hot chocolate into two mismatched mugs. One had a cheerful snowman on it; the other had the phrase Not Today, Satan in bold letters. “That’s high praise coming from you, Chef Carmy.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned against the counter, watching you finish the drinks. You handed him the snowman mug, the hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and topped with rainbow sprinkles.

“Thanks,” he said softly, the warmth of the mug sinking into his cold fingers.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied, motioning toward the couch. “Go sit. Warm up. Gus might even share the dog bed if you ask nicely.”

Carmy took a seat on your couch and glanced at where the bird, was still nestled on its makeshift throne. His expression teetered between confusion and amusement. “Why’d you name the pigeon Gus?”

“Well,” you began, grinning as you set your mug down and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch. “He’s got a very Gus vibe. You know, dependable, grounded. Plus, I think he likes it.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Pretty sure pigeons don’t care about names.”

“Gus does,” you replied, wrapping the blanket over your lap and settling in beside him with mock seriousness. “He’s refined. A pigeon of culture. Look at him—he’s living the dream. Warm bed, no rent, no responsibilities. It’s the life.”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he sank into the other end of the couch. His mug sat warm in his hands, the whipped cream melting into the chocolate and blending with the colorful sprinkles. He took a slow sip, letting the rich warmth settle in his chest.

“So,” you started, shifting under the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself. “What’s something no one ever expects about you?”

The question caught him off guard, and his brow furrowed as he glanced at you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like... something people wouldn’t guess just by looking at you,” you explained, tilting your head. “Something random, unexpected. For example, I’m freakishly good at those claw machines at arcades.”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, grinning. “I’ve got a whole collection of stuffed animals to prove it. My proudest moment was winning three in one go. The guy running the arcade looked like he wanted to kick me out.”

“Let me guess,” Carmy said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re one of those people who has a ‘method.’”

“Damn right I do,” you replied, leaning forward with mock seriousness. “It’s all in the timing. You’ve got to line it up perfectly and commit. None of that panicking halfway through and letting the claw drop nonsense.”

“Noted,” he said with a chuckle. “Alright. Something unexpected... I don’t know. I guess I—” He hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on the side of his mug. “I used to be into puzzles. Like, big, complicated ones.”

Your eyes lit up, and you gestured toward the half-finished puzzle on your coffee table. “No way. Me too! Well, kind of. I’m more of a casual puzzler. That one’s been sitting there for weeks.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he teased, nodding toward the scattered pieces. “You’re not exactly flying through it.”

“Hey, I’m busy, okay?” you shot back, laughing. “But seriously, puzzles? That’s cool. What kind? Like landscapes or those impossible ones with a thousand pieces of just sky?”

“Both, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “I liked the challenge. Felt... calming.”

You nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah. There’s something nice about piecing things together. Feels like you’re fixing something, even if it’s just a picture.”

Carmy looked down at his mug, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t really do it anymore, though. Too much else going on.”

“Maybe you should,” you suggested, your tone light but sincere. “Could be good for you. Something just for you, you know?”

He didn’t reply immediately, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow. “Alright, your turn. Something unexpected.”

“Hmm,” you mused, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but... I used to want to be a cryptozoologist.”

“A what?” Carmy asked, his brow furrowing.

“Cryptozoologist,” you repeated, grinning. “You know, someone who studies mythical creatures. Like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. I was convinced I’d grow up to prove they existed.”

Carmy blinked, clearly trying to process that. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, laughing. “I had notebooks full of research—drawings, ‘sightings,’ theories. I even tried to build a Nessie tracker out of a walkie-talkie and a coat hanger once.”

He let out a laugh. “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“Not when it matters,” you replied with a playful shrug, your eyes glinting with mischief. “What about you? Any weird childhood dreams? Like, I don’t know... being an astronaut or starting a rock band?”

Carmy hesitated, his lips pressing into a thoughtful line. It took a moment before he finally spoke, his tone quieter. “Not really. I mean, cooking was always kind of... it. It felt right. It’s like a family thing, I guess. My brother was into it too—he loved it.”

Your curiosity piqued at the mention of his family.

“You have a brother?” you asked, your head tilting with interest.

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, the words carrying a weight he didn’t fully unpack. “Mikey. And I’ve got a sister too—Sugar. Well, her name’s Natalie, but we’ve been calling her Sugar forever.”

“That’s cute,” you said with a warm smile. “Are you the youngest?”

“Yeah,” Carmy replied, running a hand through his hair, a subtle habit you were starting to notice. “Mikey was the oldest. Sugar’s in the middle.”

“Did they pick on you a lot?” you teased gently, trying to keep the tone light.

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Not really. Mikey did, sometimes. But not in a mean way, you know? More like... making sure I could handle myself. And Sugar? She was the one keeping us all in line. Still is.”

“That sounds like a good balance,” you said, leaning back into the couch. “Oldest sibling as the troublemaker, middle sibling keeping the peace, and you as... what? The quiet one?”

“Something like that,” Carmy replied, his voice quiet. “I guess I just... stayed out of the way most of the time. Let them be loud.”

“Stayed out of the way?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “That sounds lonely.”

He shrugged, his eyes fixed on the swirl of whipped cream in his mug. “It wasn’t bad. Mikey... he was the big personality, you know? The guy everyone wanted to be around. Sugar had her own stuff, and I guess I just... I don’t know. I was fine doing my own thing.”

Your chest tightened at the quiet way he spoke, as if he were skimming the surface of something much deeper. You didn’t push, sensing that there was more he wasn’t ready to say. Instead, you offered a small, genuine smile.

“I bet they loved having you around, though,” you said softly. “Even if you didn’t take up all the space.”

Carmy’s gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable passing across his face. He gave a small nod. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was thoughtful, filled with the hum of the heater and Gus’s soft cooing. You shifted in your seat, looking for a way to lighten the mood again.

“So, Carmy-next-door,” you said, leaning forward with a playful glint in your eye, “since you’re already here, I have an important question.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his brows lifting slightly.

“If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life—one thing—what would it be?”

Carmy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “One thing?”

“Yup,” you said, grinning as you rested your chin on your hand. “You’re a chef. I feel like this is the kind of thing you’ve thought about.”

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I haven’t, actually.”

“Well, now’s your chance,” you said, gesturing for him to answer. “Come on, Chef Carmy. What’s it gonna be?”

He thought for a moment, his gaze distant before he replied, “Probably... bread. Good bread. Crusty, fresh out of the oven.”

“Bread?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your pick?”

“Yeah,” he said, smirking slightly. “It’s simple. Versatile. You can make a sandwich, dip it in soup... eat it plain.”

“Fair,” you admitted, nodding. “But also kind of boring.”

“Boring?” he echoed, his smirk widening. “What about you, then?”

“Oh, easy,” you said, sitting up straighter. “Mac and cheese. The good kind. Baked, with breadcrumbs on top.”

“Baked mac and cheese?” he asked, his tone teasing. “And bread is boring?”

“Hey, baked mac and cheese is a masterpiece,” you argued, pointing a finger at him. “It’s comfort food at its finest.”

Carmy laughed, the sound low and warm, and for the first time that night, he felt completely at ease. You grinned, triumphant, as you sipped your hot chocolate.

“Alright, mac and cheese,” he said finally. “You win,"

“Hell yeah,” you laugh, settling back into the couch with a satisfied smile.

The quiet settled between you again, easy and warm, but you weren’t one to let a moment pass without a bit of mischief. You leaned forward suddenly, setting your mug down on the coffee table and glancing at the pile of papers sitting on the far edge.

“So,” you began, your voice light and playful as you turned back to him, “since you’re already here, Carmy-next-door, how do you feel about helping me grade English essays?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Grade essays?”

“Yup,” you said, grinning as you grabbed the stack and plopped it on the table between you. “It’s my favorite nightly activity. Well, maybe not favorite. But it’s how I usually spend my nights when I’m not rescuing my neighbors from hallway purgatory.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, his smirk faint. “Not a chance,"

“Why not?” you teased, nudging the stack toward him. “Think of it as your way of repaying me. A little good ol’ fashioned labor for the fourth-grade cause.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, frowning. “I don’t know anything about grading papers.”

“Oh, it’s easy,” you said, waving a hand. “You just read through them and make sure the sentences make sense. Bonus points if you add a smiley face or two. The kids love that.”

“I’m not sure your kids are gonna love my grading style,” he muttered, but he reached for the stack anyway, pulling the first paper off the top.

“Relax,” you said, sitting back with a smug smile. “They’re not expecting Pulitzer-worthy feedback. Just check for spelling errors, maybe circle a comma splice here or there. You’ll be great.”

He sighed, glancing at the paper in his hands, his brow furrowing as he read. After a moment, he spoke. “This one’s about... pizza?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, chuckling. “Personal narratives. They had to write about something important to them. Pizza’s a classic. I mean, it keeps the world turning, apparently.”

Carmy’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Right, ‘round like the Earth.’ Deep stuff.”

“Exactly,” you said, grinning. “Ten-year-olds are basically philosophers in disguise.”

He kept reading, his expression shifting between amusement and genuine thoughtfulness as he moved through the stack. Occasionally, he’d hold up a paper and read a line aloud, like, “‘If I could be any animal, I would be a penguin because they have a lot of swag.’”

“That’s Semaj,” you said with a fond laugh. “He’s got big main-character energy.”

He leaned back into the couch, his empty mug resting on the coffee table. He’d worked through half the stack of papers, leaving you with the rest. You had the blanket draped over your legs, your focus on the paper in your hand, the tip of your pen tapping thoughtfully against your lip. Occasionally, you’d mutter something under your breath—“Oh, Ethan,” or “That’s not how commas work, sweetheart”—before marking a note in the margin.

He couldn’t help it. His gaze lingered.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself. But something about the way you looked so at ease in the warm glow of the string lights made him pause. Your hair, slightly mussed from the blanket, framed your face in a way that felt unstudied but perfect. The way you chewed your lip when you read something particularly interesting. The way you smiled when you wrote a note in the margin, like you were having a silent conversation with the words on the page.

It wasn’t just that he thought you were pretty—though, God, you were. It was more than that. It was how everything about you seemed to radiate a kind of energy he wasn’t used to. Warm, chaotic, alive.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Your face lit up as you held a paper up for him to see, the grin on your face contagious. “This one? Absolute gold. You have to read this.”

He leaned forward, taking the paper from your outstretched hand. The title at the top read: ‘Why My Dog is the Best Dog Ever’ in shaky but determined handwriting. He glanced at the first paragraph and let out a quiet laugh.

“'My dog is the best because she knows how to play fetch, even though she’s really bad at it. She never brings the ball back, but I think she’s trying her best,’” Carmy read aloud, shaking his head as he glanced back at you. “This kid’s got it figured out.”

“Right?” you said, your eyes sparkling. “That’s life wisdom right there. ‘Trying your best’—that’s what counts.”

As you set the paper aside, your gaze caught his, and for a moment, the teasing smile on your face softened.

“What?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the hint of curiosity in your tone.

“Nothing,” Carmy said quickly, sitting back, though his lips twitched into the faintest smile. “Just... your kids. They’re funny.”

You studied him for a moment longer, like you didn’t quite believe him, before your grin returned. “They are. Keeps me on my toes.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting back to the stack of papers you were working through. “You’re good at this, you know?”

“Grading?” you teased, arching an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “All of it. The teaching, the way you talk about them... It’s easy to see.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. Then your lips curled into a shy smile, and you shrugged. “Thanks. That means a lot. And, for the record, you’re not so bad at this either. You’re practically a natural.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his smirk returning.

“Oh, definitely,” you said with a mock-serious nod. “The kids would love you. Quiet, mysterious... You’d be like their cool uncle or something.”

Carmy huffed a laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, I do,” you said, leaning back and tucking the blanket around you. “You’re doing great, Carmy-next-door. Even if you still think bread isn’t boring.”

He chuckled softly, letting the moment settle between you. The snowstorm outside raged on, but inside, the warmth of the room and your laughter made everything feel lighter. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Carmy didn’t mind staying still.

A/N: Heyyyy, thank you so much for the support. Also, I need help coming up with new scenarios... so if you have any suggestions please tell me.

I hope you enjoyed it and tell me if you want to be tagged. <3

Part 6

Tags:

@hiitsmebbygrl16 @urthem00n @svzwriting29 @tyferbebe

@akornsworld @khxna @ruthyalva96 @beingalive1

@darkestbeforethedawn16 @turtle-cant-communicate

[witherby]

Everyone immediately folding to mouse is adorable

Omg mousey that’s so cute

Ooooo imagine everyone’s reactions if mouse gets bullied when they’re older

-🪼

That's an excellent thought experiment! Let's play around with that scenario!

What would everyone do if you were being bullied at school?

Featuring: a black eye, a concerned/angry Batfamily, a doting Justice League, and a kid who fucked around and is about to find out.

Alfred:

He's the information collector. He's calling the school. He's asking to see the footage from the incident that sent you home with a black eye. He's firing your body guard. He's reigning in your youngest brother so he won't storm the elementary school and start throwing down with every adult in sight. He's fetching the cold compress and extra blankets. He's prepping your favorite snacks. Anything you require, Flittermouse, you just need ask. Grandpa is livid, but he's also keeping everybody's lids from blowing.

Bruce:

He's walking right out of an important meeting (like, multi-billion with a B dollar investment type of meeting) and driving straight home to assess the damage. Daddy's here, let him see, tell him what happened, Mouse. Bruce stays home for the rest of the day with you, honestly kind of overdoing it with the fussing and babying, but his arms are so secure around you and his heartbeat in your ear is so steady, which you love. In the short bursts of time he lets you go, it's to call Commissioner Gordon to pursue charges against the school and the family of the kid that gave you a shiner. He doesn't need Batman for this; Daddy's got it handled.

Dick:

No worries allowed! No tears allowed! Big Bro Dicky is all smiles and distractions. When Bruce gets too suffocating, he's there to take over and take you someplace fun. You wanna hit up the playground? Done and done, hop in his car. You want ice cream from that one vendor downtown? Sure, get the biggest size and as many flavors as your tummy can fit. Bet that nasty bruise doesn't hurt as bad with all these cool distractions, huh? It's mind over matter, Flitty. You'll be okay, pinky promise.

Tim:

Your cool brother Tim's orchestrating the narrative. What do you want, Mouse? You want that kid expelled? He can do it, say the word. You want him just suspended for a couple days? Done. Easy work. Child's play. You want him to systematically ruin his and his parents' social standings among the Gotham Elite until their names are worth little more than the dirt under the boots of this city? Because he can do that, too. If you want. No biggie. Oh, you just want to be cuddled and marathon Bluey for a while? Hell yeah, M, settle in, we're using the theater room for this. He'll whisper cool facts about the show to you in between the credits while you share the popcorn.

Jason:

Your actually cool brother is gonna ruffle your hair and give you a pep talk about bullies, conflict resolution, and the best ways to handle a situation like this if it ever happens again. He's also gonna teach you how to throw the nastiest right hook anybody's ever seen. With the right technique you could fell a grown fuckin' man, Mousey. Just cause that's your nickname doesn't mean you have to have the matching demeanor. You're gonna come back from this with your chin up and, if need be, your fists clenched. You don't have to pick up the vigilante mantle to avoid becoming a victim. Maybe he'll... also buy you a stuffie and teach you how to milk your injury for extra goodies, whatever. All his tips and tricks don't need to be based in violence!

Damian:

Oh man. This boy's got no chill when it comes to you, for real. He's spent so many years being the baby of the family and that was never a title he wanted. Now here comes you, who used to be an actual, literal baby, growing up faster than anybody wants, and you've come home hurt? Give him the name of the pathetic whelp that dared lay a hand against you, Flit. He'll make them pay dearly. He's your big brother. He's your protector. He's come to love you like a blood sibling, and he won't stand for any injustice committed against you. Damian's hands are rated E for Everyone; he'll punch out a child without hesitation and make them wish they'd never even thought about touching you.

Of course, the Justice League is your family, too! They used to look forward to seeing Bruce bring you to the Watchtower in your little car seat and portable playpen. They come to all your birthday parties. They're your aunties and uncles through and through.

Hal:

Uncle Hal (who eventually becomes your step-dad Hal, or Papa) is sympathetic. He used to get into fights at school, too. His more down-to-earth advice for dealing with the problem — ironic, considering his intergalactic occupation — is really helpful. Sometimes you just need a comforting squeeze, a kiss on the forehead, and a classic everything will be A-okay, kiddo. You just gotta take life one step at a time and don't let it keep you down. 10/10 most reasonable and normal reaction to the whole thing, honestly.

Diana:

Y'know I think she's only slightly more chill about it than Damian. She's infuriated that any mere mortal would dare harm your previous head. She's trying to convince Bruce to grant her temporary custody so she can take you to Themyscira for intensive warrior training. She's offering to end the bloodline of the soul that caused you injury. She's commending your fortitude and the fact that a black eye isn't dissuading you from going back to school tomorrow. She will go to battle about it if you just ask.

Clark:

Baffled that children are this cruel. (<- This motherfucker was getting bullied way harder than you did when he was your age, but his invulnerability made it really easy to deal with and he just pretended to be hurt by his aggressors.) He's offering to fly you to the Kent family farm to hang out with the animals for a day in a nice, quiet environment. He's gonna give you a little pep talk like Hal did, but again, he's invulnerable, so it's going to sound disingenuous coming from Uncle Clark. It's the thought that counts, though. Thanks man.

Long story short: you're getting bullied and injured. It's blown just a little out of proportion, but you feel no less loved for it, and you can rest assured that it won't happen again.

[aurorawritestoescape]

LIKE IT’S THE LAST TIME || 900 words

Tw: 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected piv, public, creampie, belly bulge, gun use.

Part two || Series masterlist

***

“Yeah… shit…yeah…like that.”

Joel’s low growling always turns you on more than any dirty talk ever could. His forehead is sweaty, teeth are mercilessly biting his lower lip as he’s trying not to blow his load into you just yet.

You’re riding his cock in a stuffy car, knees planted on the back seat to help him plunge his length deeper into your hot core. Only the condensation on the windows hides your indecent public behavior, doing a poor job at that as a few passers-by have already done a double take after glancing inside your car.

You don’t care. On days like this one you can’t let go of each other, lips kissing, tongues licking, hands grabbing one another like it’s your last time.

He playfully slaps your ass and you gasp, a little smile dancing on your heated face.

“’m I taking it good, Joel?”

The man hums, the sound muffled as he’s nuzzling a spot between your breasts. The scruff on his cheeks and chin is rubbing your sensitive skin but this little discomfort won’t stop you from chasing your ecstasy. Your pussy feels so good bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans through the gritted teeth and pride blooms in your heart when this big dangerous man forgets how to speak, forgets about everything, completely lost in the sensations your body is giving him.

You keep riding his length, slowing down and then picking up the pace again. Your hips are tilted back, as his steel member deliciously slides against your soft spot.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, and you feel cold air right at your hole as your slick collects at the base of his shaft. You’re so wet, your juices must be already sliding down his balls.

Joel’s plush lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes flutter shut and he tilts his head back against the headrest.

“No, no, too soon… need more, Joel, c’mon”, you mumble hastily, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. You slow down trying to prolong the pleasure for the both of you. ‘Will I ever feel him like this again?’

A familiar thorn of fear pangs your heart but you drive it away caressing his lips with yours while you’re holding his face between your shaky palms. You blink your eyes open, so close to him everything is blurry in your gaze but you still take mental pictures of his freckles, his long lashes, his expression, so vulnerable and honest.

You store them deep inside you. For later. In case your luck fails you.

“Lean back, baby… yeah, good girl,” Joel murmurs as his hands push you back making you sit straight on his lap. His head drops down and he watches his cock disappear inside your glistening pussy.

“Fuck,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs, “d’ya feel my cock? Shit, here it is,” he marvels, pressing his palm to a lump in your lower belly.

“Yeah, you’re so big, Joel,” you whine watching the bulge move up and down under your skin with every rise and fall of your hips.

His fingers find your clit and he rubs it fast with a perfect pressure and then begins vigorously thrusting up into your stretched pussy. Your whimpers turn into a constant whine when his fat tip hits your cervix again and again.

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon,” he encourages you, on the verge of climax himself and you hear it first, half moan-half roar that he always makes when he comes.

You feel his warm seed flood your pussy and the sensation makes your walls flutter, milking his pulsating cock.

You cry out, one hand braced on the window, the other gripping his broad shoulder as the waves of euphoria are hitting you over and over.

When your climax dissipates, you open your eyes and see Joel looking at you, his loving gaze taking in every feature of your face.

“What?” You ask with a shy smile as if you haven’t just stuffed your pussy full of his cum.

“Nothin’. Just lookin’ at you.” He sighs and adds, “We need to go.”

He helps you off his lap and after you both adjust your clothes, he opens the window, sticks his arm out of the car and slaps the roof a couple of times.

In a few seconds Tommy gets in the driver’s seat.

“So fucking long. Every damn time,” he grumbles frowning at Joel and you in the rear view mirror.

“‘s for good luck,” Joel mumbles as Tommy starts the engine.

“Did you at least sneak a peek, Tommy?” You ask giggling but quickly shut up when you see Joel’s stern look.

***

When you arrive at the place, Joel’s big hand on the back of your neck pulls you in for a kiss, desperate and rushed. It’s coated in promises and hopes, desire and love in every stroke of his lips as you clutch his plaid shirt with trembling fingers, kissing him back with everything you’ve got. Like it’s the last time.

Tommy wishes you luck before Joel and you get out of the car.

Right at the entrance Joel shoots you a wink through the balaclava opening and then storms in raising his gun.

As always your pussy tingles when you hear him roar the command,

“Hit the floor! This is a robbery!”

***

Part 2 || Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

Let me know if you wanna be tagged for the series💖🌸

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre

[bbeoms]

rugby!simon headcanons

hello, my sports hyperfixation this summer is rugby union, thus here i present you my rugby player simon riley brainrot! decided to write it cause why not???? someone needed to bring this idea to life. i hope you enjoy <3

fluff, suggestive, slight hurt/comfort

- plays as a forward (more specifically, second row/lock) so he’s always there during a scrum!

- and as we know, forwards are usually huge men 🤭 so 6’4 117kg simon is the perfect candidate

- you have to restrain yourself every time he’s in his kit cause have you seen how tight their jerseys and shorts are?????

- you can’t help but stare at how the fabric hugs his pecs and how the sleeves are lowkey cutting off circulation to his arms cause of how large his biceps are (and the way his tattoos peek out from the sleeves? chefs kiss)

- hikes up his shorts when he knows you’re watching and smirks when he catches you staring at the thick muscle of his thighs

- avoids wearing his kit around you when you’re ovulating cause he’s not sure he can control himself with the way you eye him like you’re ready to pounce

- (he learned his lesson after that one time you went to a match when you were ovulating. simon didn’t think it was possible, but you managed to milk him dry after you guys went home that night 💀 the hormones made you too feral until you managed to make him tap out lmao)

- anyone else become possessed by a succubus during ovulation?,,,,,, just me?,,,,, okay,,,,

- doesn’t usually wear a scrum cap during his matches

- but there was a couple of times he had to wear it (per the doctors recommendation) to protect stitches he had near his ear

- “ohmygod si you look like the end of a pencil ✏️”

- sulked at your teasing, he didn’t want to wear it either 😭

- you cooed and proceeded to shower his face with lil kisses until he forgave you

- felt his heart melt when you squished your cheek to his and took a selfie, your smile wide as you laugh at the way his blond strands were cutely sticking out of the cap (and how he still, looked like the end of a pencil)

- made it his lockscreen immediately

- being a rugby girlfriend isn’t always fun and games though

- it’s an extremely physical and dangerous sport and although you’d like to think simon is invincible, he’s still human

- it’s hard to believe but there are quite a number of players that are taller and heavier than him (you can’t say they have the same skill set though, simon is really good at his job)

- there’s always an underlying feeling of anxiety every time you watch him play

- injuries are a given

- split skin, bleeding ears and broken bloody noses are some of the more tame injuries you’ve seen simon get.

- simon coos at your tears and furrowed eyebrows whenever you tend to his injuries during rest days

- you don’t like seeing your man hurt!!!! :(((

- (okay but it is pretty hot when he gets all bloody in the face like in the first picture like hello??? lemme jump on you)

- straddling his lap while wiping the dried blood off his eyebrow

- “gimme a kiss”

- being cheeky and steals a kiss on your lips after you ignore his request

- reassures you that he’s alright and reminds you that he’s had worse injuries

- you give him a glare, silently telling him to not remind you of that time you thought he died on the pitch

- simon got hit with a high tackle, the fucker that was attempting to tackle him had his shoulder straight into simon’s neck (the guy got a red card deservingly) knocking simon back and motionless on the pitch

- you watched in horror as multiple bodies pile on top of him, not noticing that simon was out cold

- soon enough, the team’s medics were on field and stretching him away for treatment

- simon still feels your gentle touch on his face that day, thumb rubbing his cheek willing him to be okay

- he still remembers the look on your face despite being concussed. distraught, dried tears staining your cheeks.

- you were so scared, you didn’t know how bad his concussion was and what the aftermath of such injury would entail.

- he’d never felt such tenderness before

- he couldn’t believe that someone cared about him that much, didn’t think that he would ever find someone to love him like you do

- whispers i love you for the first time in his dazed state

- decides at that point that he won’t let you go, and has become a simp ever since <3

left to right pics: david pocock, tariq sims, chris robshaw (<- he would lowkey make a good simon riley imo)

[inkskinned]

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

[yuurei20]

Summarized transcript of the Twisted Radio episode with Diasomnia! 🐉🦇⚔️⚡️

Highlights: A very good episode, all the Diasomnia VAs love their characters and each other’s characters and each other and it is very obvious when they interact.

Disclaimer: These are not direct quotes, this is all general summarizations and paraphrasing~

Begins with how they are happy to be all together in one place, for the first time in two years.

The opening talk set by last week: what do you find yourself buying when you travel?

⚡️It seems 🦦-kun wanted to buy a dragon sword… 🐉 I’ve bought one before. 🦇 Why wwww 🐉 In elementary school

On topic: 🐉 I love milk. Every time I go some place I buy milk to drink. A recent musical I was in traveled nationwide and the milk in Hokkaido is different depending upon the area. I was so happy.

🦇I like to get things to remind me of the trip. It doesn’t matter what they are. It doesn’t even have to be related to the area. Just a prize from a Game Center or a gacha toy or anything is fine.

⚔️ Dragons. Apparently they’re growing in popularity. 

He talks about how around high school everyone loses interest, but then you become an adult and are like “actually yeah dragons are great” ww

🦇 We should get on that bandwagon. Officially recognized by Diasomnia ww ⚔️ We have the most noble and beautiful dragon of them all 🦇 Out of all the dragons that there are, he certainly stands out

(Everyone is laughing so much they are having so much fun)

⚡️I like getting fruit or something that was made from things grown in the area, even if it’s temporary, to remember the taste

(⚡️ is the host so it is his job to keep them on subject ww there are a lot of cuts in this episode, they must have talked for so long and needed to cut it down)

Fan letter: I had a dream where I talked about how wonderful Malleus-sama is for ten hours. What strange dreams have you had before?

⚡️I have been seeing the same dream since I was a kid. A kind of horror dream. The same dream where I am being chased by something. 

⚔️ There are dreams I had as a kid that really left an impression on me. I remember them pretty well. Like one where I became a character from a cartoon that could fly. I became one of the main characters. An enemy would appear, someone would say “Let’s go!” and they’d all naturally start to fly. And even though I was a main character, I’d say “Let’s go!” and I was the only one who wouldn’t be able to fly. Everyone else flew off and I couldn’t. I was the main character and they all left me behind. I started crying that I couldn’t fly and then I woke up.

🦇 I’ve had a dream about situation where I could fly, too. Even though I could fly, when I jumped from somewhere high up instead of going straight I would go fly upwards, then think, “Yeah, I can fly,” and that is when I could go forward. I perform safety checks within my dream.

🐉 In a dream I had in university I could fly, but just some light floating. Everyone else travels very quickly, and at first I can as well, but then I get lower and lower, and soon I am floating about 5cm. I’m technically flying, but…I saw that dream a lot.

(This entire story ⚔️ is in the background dying of laughter)

About Malleus

He was very mysterious when he first appeared. ⚡️ says he had the feeling from the start that he was a very good character. 

🦇 He had an atmosphere of someone who is difficult to go near.

⚔️ I like Malleus-sama even more now than I did before. Not just what about him that is firm but his soft side, his warm side, his cold side—we can see so many aspects of his character now, which has made him even more captivating. Because he is so mysterious something even more wonderful than what I had imagined has emerged—that is the impression I have of him now.

🦇 They did a great job with his casting. I didn’t really know anything at first, but doing this for so long, you can tell how perfect 🐉-kun is for this part. 

🐉 I’m so happy :D

🦇 Of course everyone wants to know more in the beginning because of his cool voice, but 🐉-kun has a kindness to him. And that is what I came to understand. They took that into account when they chose him. When I figured that out, I was extremely impressed. This isn’t something that just anyone can do. It’s not enough to just provide a cool character voice. It’s a distinct charm that he has.

⚔️ The character is really packed with substance, but there’s still space left, and you can sense that mysteriousness. Because there is so much going on inside of him there are things for you to grasp at while simultaneously stirring your imagination. I really sense that.

🦇 When you try to think of other seiyuu like that, no one really comes to mind. It has to be 🐉-kun.

🐉 Is it okay if I start to cry?

⚔️ And when he sings…

⚡️ That humming…

⚔️ That was amazing.

🐉 That was so hard to do. They told me, “please hum like you mean it,” and I thought, “what is humming that you mean?” Humming that follows a melody, that becomes a sound. I had never done that before. It was really hard. We tried several different patterns.

⚔️ It was scary. Both an ending and a beginning.

🦇 But as the story continues I find him cute, too. And 🐉-kun is cute, too.

(Everyone is laughing, I think ⚔️ is going to die here)

🦇 No I’m serious, really, really. 

🐉 While portraying Malleus the difficult thing is always not showing too much emotion,.The direction I am always receiving is “you can’t become human.” They’ll say, “that take sounded just like a regular guy.” The balance of how his normal is not normal for a human is always hard to do. And post-overblot Malleus—they’ll tell me, “Sorry, but Malleus sounds kind of scary.” I often get told “can you control the darkness a bit.” But through all that how do I still portray Malleus-ness…

🦇 The more you read for a character the more you come to understand them, but Malleus was last.

🐉 There was a lot of uncertainty in the beginning. I have concluded that he is cute. He’s a child. He’s been alive longer than the others, but his emotional state hasn’t caught up to that. He has so much power, but he lacks the normal concept of common sense. Things that are common sense to him are not so to others. I am always trying to portray that unusual dichotomy.

⚔️ talks about being able to see Malleus grow up in Book 7 through the different milestones were see in the flashbacks. There are places where he has always been the same but parts about him that have evolved. ⚔️ tells 🐉 that it seems like that must have been hard.

🐉 It was so hard.  I think there’s probably a way of interacting with Malleus that's in line with how he understands things, even though I don't fully understand it. When encountering him for the first time, people around him might think, 'Wow, he doesn’t react at all!' But Malleus does react in his own way. I would receive many detailed directions like 'Please be surprised!' or 'Please react!' I didn’t create this performance all by myself, it has come together from the efforts of the staff, and I’m really grateful for that. I tend to lose track of what was the right way to approach things as Malleus. You can get confused between doing events and the main story, so getting back into the right mindset every time is pretty tough.

About Silver

🐉 I thought he was really cool when I saw him the first time.

⚡️ I think it’s cute how he falls asleep—he’ll wake up, apologize, and then immediately sleep again.

🦇 He’s really pretty.

🐉 I thought he had a beautiful face the first time I saw him.

⚔️ My portrayal of him hasn’t really changed since the beginning. We’ve gotten more information and there is more of a backbone now, and of course things change when new things are revealed. Even from the beginning he wasn’t just a cool character, he had a naturalness to him, and not just that he spaces out, but he tries to solve his problems with physical strength. Like in Book 7 with “if I hit it that will fix it.” I think his humanity is being expressed more these days.

🦇 It took a while, yeah?

⚔️ It took so long.

🦇 It took us a while to get to Malleus, too, but he had the impact of his first appearance. Silver didn’t have anything.

Now they’re talking about Lilia’s farewell party and Malleus and Silver crying together and not knowing how to express their emotions. Trying to be mature. 

⚔️ He’s being a big brother to Silver!!

🦇 I figured something was coming soon, after that. And it went in an intense direction.

⚔️ There is so much about them that is a family. Father is Lilia, and Malleus-sama has a big-brother nature to him.

🐉 You really feel their familial relationship.

⚔️ He felt some responsibility. If the little brother starts to cry, the older brother—

🐉 He can’t cry.

⚔️ He’ll get desperate to try and be strong and try to solve the problem.

🐉 Like he has to step up.

🦇 So it was Silver’s fault.

⚡️⚔️🐉wwwwww

⚔️Not all of it. Silver would never say this, but the reason things became so difficult for the two of them is…their love for their father.

🦇 Sebek and Silver are a good combination, too.

⚔️ Such a good combination~~~

🦇 They’re complete opposites but they’re also surprisingly similar.

⚡️They’re both so honest.

🐉 They’re honest and serious and good kids, both of them.

⚡️ They never had the opportunity to show emotion like that until 7. They are both very quick to cry.

🐉 They’re so much alike.

⚡️I guess this is what happens when you’re raised together with someone. I think Silver is the older brother, looking from Sebek’s perspective. There is a moment where Sebek is scolded for the first time. In the moment, when I was reading, ⚔️’s portrayal really is angry. I even said it, “He finally scolded him for the first time.”

About Sebek

⚡️I think he empowers himself by speaking so loudly. Once he decides on doing something, he goes straight for it, true to his unique magic. With how strongly he sticks to his principles it’s like he could overcome any obstacle, like in that scene he had with Silver, but it was very cute that he actually loses there.

⚔️THAT WAS SO CUTE. That was a great part. 

(⚔️ is literally yelling into his mic about how cute Sebek is)

⚡️The fact that he was able to get out the words he really wanted to say after he lost the fight shows that he does want to say what is on his mind but there is a wall that he has to break down, and then he can move forward. That is a moment where you can really understand Sebek-kun’s feelings. And once he lets his emotions out, they’re out w

🐉 He can’t put the lid back on. Everything spills out.

⚔️ (dying in the background)

⚡️talks about how much effort Sebek puts into everything and he reads so much and there is so much he wants people to know, which is why he is so loud.

🦇Sebek and Silver have both had a lot more lines recently. Doesn’t your voice get worn out during recordings?

⚡️It doesn’t! I do stretches and things before recordings. I figured out that I need that kind of physical exercise to prepare.

About Lilia

⚡️ Mom.

🐉 A cute mom.

⚡️There was a lot of gaps* in 7.

*I can’t figure out a good way to say this in English. It is the difference between what you expect and what something really is.

🐉 Too many gaps, it was so surprising.

🦇 I had heard nothing about any of that.

⚡️ I had an image of him as someone who is gentle and cute and a senpai who enjoys pranks and looks out for others…

🦇 He used to be completely different.

⚡️And there was egg-sama.

🐉 Egg-sama w

⚡️⚔️It’s not inaccurate.

🦇 I have done a lot of crying scenes before. When you first look at the script it hits you, and when you think about how you have to portray what you just read so that the people listening to your performance feel the same emotion—there is a pressure to that. I can’t be the only one crying. I have to make others cry.

⚔️ Something that 🦇-san said (during the special talk show that 🦇 and 🐉 did together last year talking about Book 7 just the two of them) that I really liked and wanted to ask about: You and Baul’s VA Koyasu-san (🐊) have been performing together a lot over the years. And you came back together for the first time in a while for this. You said that you didn’t want to give him the impression of “So this is what 🦇 is like these days.” So there was that pressure, you didn’t want to give an embarrassing performance in front of him, and I realized that you have a passionate spirit that you don’t really show, in my opinion—but it’s there! I got really excited about that.

🐉 I was surprised, too, that even 🦇-san has those same thoughts.

⚡️Same!

🦇 Of course I do. The pressure was intense. I am glad that we were able to record together, but…

And with the Chapter 13 release announcement they say they have permission to share this information:

🦇 and 🐉 were able to record together!

🐉 It was amazing. It was truly an amazing time for me.

🦇 It was our first time performing together.

Upcoming calendar review~ and done!

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hiii, how about our fav 141 men with to a very clumsy reader? Like e.g. I'm someone who keeps accidentally bumping into people while walking because apparently I can't walk a straight line???

Is that something you'd write?:3

Is this something I'd write? Absolutely. This prompt is so cute and the perfect opportunity to write a few drabbles. Thank you for sending it in, and thank you for your patience as I work through all the requests.

Find the Imagines & What If Masterlist HERE

Content & Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, canon-typical cursing

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price:

“I’m doing it.”

“No. You’re not.”

You raise the hammer.

“Put it down,” says Price pointing at the ground.

“I’m fully capable.”

“Yes,” admits Price, slowly. “But you always hurt yourself.”

Your husband isn’t wrong. Everything you’ve ever hung on the walls has resulted in a throbbing thumb.

“It’ll be different this time.”

Price shrugs. “Go on then.”

With tongue between teeth, you come down on the nail, striking thumb instead of metal. You turn to him, tears in your eyes.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Come here.”

“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’”

“Wouldn’t dare,” laughs Price, cradling your hand.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

“We need to—”

“The milk—”

“It’s—”

Simon tugs you to the right and you growl in frustration. “Stop pulling on me.”

Simon glances down and you know he’s smirking behind the black balaclava. “You don’t know how to walk in a straight fucking line.”

“What?”

He nods toward an elderly couple. “Nearly ran them down, love.”

You roll your eyes. You’re yanked backward against Simon’s chest. He places both hands on either side of you against the cart.

“Gotta protect the elderly.”

“Fuck off,” you mutter.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head, grinning.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

“Let me see, love.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and inspects the nasty slice. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner and the knife slipped.

“At least the knife wasn’t dull,” murmurs Kyle as he rinses the wound under cold water. He gently washes it with soap, drying it afterward.

“You need to be more careful,” he says softly.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time. I’m not interested in taking you to the hospital.”

Kyle rotates your wrist, covering the wound with a bandage, and places a soft kiss against the wrappings.

“All done.”

John "Soap" MacTavish:

“Can we—”

“Nope,” says John, shaking his head. “Focus.” He places his hands on your shoulders, urging you forward.

“You don’t need to do that.”

John twists you to the side as you almost collide with an antique tea set.

“Oh, aye. I do,” he mutters, gaze darting everywhere, looking for the next victim.

You’re the hazard. Last time the two of you went antique shopping, John had to hand over most of his cash because you kept knocking things over.

“They pack these places on purpose.”

He kisses the top of your head. “No. It’s just you, love.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @spicyspicyliving @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[cheesecakeluver]

My love… i need a tooth-rotting sweet fluffy hamzah fic… ONE WHERE IM SMOTHERING HIM WITH SMOOCHES >0< !!

(You deserve the biggest smooch tho MWAH)

I THINK WE COULD DO IT IF WE TRIED

Hamzahthefantastic x reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Waking up on the morning after an argument, you and Hamzah talk it out, understanding each other , and reconnecting.

disclaimer: i didn’t really listen to this request… sorry @evilslushy! i get caught up with writing that i forget the end goal.

———————-

Morning light filters through the blinds, as birds chirp outside, and the soft fall of rain patters at window.

Tossing and turning, my mind is misty, representing the weather outside. Flashes of voices, words being ridiculed, and an empty feeling feel in my head, as my thoughts recall the events of last night.

I don’t particularly want to acknowledge last nights mishaps, but i have to. That’s the gift with humans. Remembrance.

Unwillingly, my eyes open to the sounds of the plastic curtains knocking the window, and the foggy grey light floods the room, engulfing me, and who i know to be Hamzah, in it.

I yawn, stretching my arms far above my head as i glance at him, cleaning the room of its mess.

Last night, things had gotten heated. Harsh words were spilt, and items had been scattered. Never in my relationship had i seen Hamzah so enraged, and it was new to me.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes as i stumble out of bed, quickly sliding my slippers on, and making my way to the kitchen, leaving Hamzah behind without a word.

I didn’t mean to be cold towards the man i loved. I just needed to hear those two words escape from his mouth, and to understand that he really meant them. After that, i knew i’d crumble back into his arms, regardless of whether i wanted to or not.

But i would always want to, and i had come to terms with that. I appreciated that. How even through tough times i would always know i had him, and i wasn’t going to lose him.

Begrudgingly, i swung open the cupboards, grabbing the cereal boxes from the top shelf clumsily. Without Hamzah to aid me, it was harder. Another sign i needed him. Another sign i wanted him.

Spilling some of the cereal, i carefully pour two bowls, splashing milk accidentally when plopping the spoons in.

I debated leaving the bowl for Hamzah to find, or giving it to him straight up, but decided on the latter.

Slowly but surely, i made my way to our room, careful not to degrade our hallway as i did our kitchen.

Peeking through the opened door, i saw Hamzah sitting on our bed, motionless. He appeared drained, no colour flushing his cheeks as he lay back against the head frame, his demeanour growing more and more melancholy as i intruded quietly, without him knowing.

At this point i’ve had enough, and can’t take any more of his sorrow, entering the room and placing the bowl on his nightstand. I don’t utter a word, yet i gently fall in place beside him, watching his every movement. The way his chest rises and falls, and how his curls tumble into his eyes.

He seems to have acknowledged my actions, yet doesn’t say a word, making a small sliver of my heart break. I decide that if i want things to get fixed, i’d have to make the first move.

“Hamzah?…” i question warily, unsure of how he’d react.

His eyes flutter open, immediately directed to mine as he nods, as if to tell me to continue.

I sigh, my hands laying idle in my lap, cereal forgotten.

“I just wanted to ask how you were feeling.. about last night” i wince at my words, the argument still fresh in my mind, and a touchy subject.

He tenses slightly, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes depart from mine and to the condensation covered window.

Finally, he speaks, catching me off guard slightly.

“I want to apologise..” he mutters, words trailing off.

How i wish he would look at me, to stare into my eyes and understand everything i was feeling, and every thought rushing through my head.

“I know that things got heated, and i said some…”

“You did.” i reply, colder and sharper than intended. He spoke of things i would never image, calling me all sorts of names for what seemed to be a idiotic reason.

At least he understood he was acting like an ass.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he finally turns to look at me. His eyes pierce mine strikingly, as if he’s seeing my soul, my aura, my spirit when he looks at me.

he awkwardly slides himself over to me, looking at me for approval for his next action.

I would always give in to him, and his sweet, doe like eyes that will always entrance me.

I nod slowly, slightly unsure of whatever he would do next.

He shifts himself downwards, legs hanging off of the bed as he places his head on my stomach, and arms around my waist. I feel the man melt into me, as though we were one.

I don’t do anything, but breathe. I don’t believe that even if i had the chance to do something, that i would.

Seeing him, so idyllic, giving into me.

It was a side of vulnerability that i had yet to encounter.

“mh so sorry..” he muffled into me, and all i can do is nod, my fingers intertwined with his curls.

i sigh, relaxing my body fully as he lay atop me.

“it will be okay hamzah” i whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, a small smile growing across his face.

it will be okay.

[p0ckykiss]

i dream in the rain (it's you) - jeon jungkook

summary -> if jungkook is the sun, then you are the rain. and jungkook has always loved the rain, so dearly.

warnings -> female reader x jungkook, friends to lovers, pining god, jungkook just yearns, fluff

most of his memories of you are tied to the rain, one way or another.

the earliest of it that he remembers is when you were middle schoolers, the autumn downpour ruining his friends’ soccer game and, effectively, his lunch hour too. jungkook's friends all scatter to find cover, and he does the same, ending up in a direction none of them had gone to. he ends up next to you, too shy to sit on the bench with your dripping clothes, embarrassed at the ugly squelch your muddy shoes make. he simply puts his novel down and hands you a yellow handkerchief, telling you not to catch a cold. it doesn’t do much for your soaked hair, but you return it the next day—folded neatly, smelling of fabric softener—and he gets a smile from you.

jungkook remembers that day; he’d thought you had the prettiest eyes.

it’s raining the first time he sleeps over at your house, giddy when you crush him in a hug upon arrival. he doesn’t sleep much that night, the rain outside soothing as he lies awake, hyper-aware of your soft breathing next to him (of your pretty eyes, your pretty hands, your pretty everything).

by the next morning, he knows that there are three moons in the glow-in-the-dark galaxy of your bedroom ceiling, and that you mumble in your sleep.

it’s raining when jungkook stumbles into a convenience store in tenth grade, cursing at the sky. he loiters in the aisles, not really planning on making a purchase, until he comes face to face with you near the assortment of drinks. he gets steered straight to the little table by the window, you running off with an endearing 'I will buy you something, wait!’, leaving him to watch the raindrops’ race along the glass. you bought him strawberry milk and an umbrella.

(jungkook walks you home that day as a thank you, heat coloring his face when you bump shoulders, huddled close beneath see-through plastic.)

when you leave for university, jungkook catches himself yearning for you every time the skies are a little grey. he finds his heart aches whenever he pulls out the umbrella, his shoulder strangely lonely.

and when you try to teach him piano over the break—fingers over his and your smile gentle as he plays a piece you wrote in your dorm room—spring rainfall pitter-patters against the windowsill as if singing along. jungkook doodles hearts on your notebook when you aren't looking. jungkook finds his stomach twists painfully at how your cheeks redden and how your eyes glimmer when you talk about your new roommate jake. he crosses the hearts out, and squishes your cheeks in his hands—it hides the rose flush, but the warmth of it burns against jungkook's palms, and the shrill annoyance of your yell sears readily at his heart.

it is storming terribly when you call him one night, hesitant and shaky-voiced, to break the news of a bruised heart. jungkook knows neither you nor jake are at fault—but he knows how it hurts. he wishes he could be right at your side, thumbing away your tears and kissing your head, cuddling the pain away. instead, he puts aside his assignment and video-calls you from his own dorm room, cities away. and through the pixelated display and delayed sound, he knows he’s made you laugh.

if he weren’t a mere mortal with questionable caffeine levels in his blood, he’d brave a thousand storms to hear the sound again.

there is no umbrella when jungkook finds a mirror in you, sees his heart’s affections reflected in how your eyes soften when they meet his own. the summer sky falls on you both in timid drizzles, and you stand in the open while people around you hasten to get out of the rain.

“what?”

you bite your lip, and it pinkens in a way that has jungkook's heart in knots so dangerous. your shoulders sag a bit when you repeat, unsurely, “i said, i think i love you.” you look frightened to say it, look like you wish you hadn’t. “i think i always have, maybe.”

jungkook takes your hand before you can curl in on yourself too much. he looks you in the eye when he professes, “you know i love you too, right? just as much, just as… similarly.”

he knows you know, with the way you look apologetic at that. with how your mouth purses, your frown feigning confidence, right before you ask, “did i realise too late?”

jungkook grins, tugging you close. rain droplets have caught along your eyelashes, sparkling across your gaze like the constellations on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom. jungkook brushes away the soaked strands that stick to your forehead, makes room for a spot to land a kiss against. “never too late, not with me.”

you go that specific blush pink that he’d once loathed, curling into jungkook, face against his collar, arms around his waist, grumbling something about i love you, i love you, i love you.

jungkook laughs, and you really do look like fools, drenched to the bone, embracing in the rain. “well, i’ve never stopped loving you.”

because you are the rain to his shine, and he’s always loved the rain. and despite what one may think, loving the rain isn’t so bad after all—not when it lets the sun shine through it, merging into the prettiest colors of love.