#man i do question their relationship in the game as well but at least there are hints dracula really was a decent person and husband

[kiwriteswords]

My Funny Valentine [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1.9k|| AN: I have been binge-re-watching The Nanny for the first time since I was a teenager and got to the episode where Fran buys a billboard for Mr. Sheffield after thinking he was her secret admirer. I had to do this for Hotch and Reader!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, BAU reader, will they won't they relationship, Valentine's Day, mentions of Haley, mentions of a creepy police officer, based off an episode of The Nanny, fools in love.

Summary: Given your undeniable chemistry and attraction for one another, when an unsigned card with flowers and a teddy bear shows up on your desk, you assume it's from Hotch. After making a grand gesture for what you thought was in return, you both soon realize the truth.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your interactions with Hotch have been a mixture of professional respect and undeniable chemistry. Over the years, the flirty banter had evolved into a dance of “will they, won't they,” much to the entertainment--and sometimes frustration--of the team. 

Everyone could see the mutual attraction except, it seemed, the two of you.

Being Hotch's subordinate, you treaded carefully, harboring feelings you dared not confess, always secretly hoping he'd be the one to break the professional boundary.

You were younger--not inappropriately so (maybe just a little)...well, enough to make you question if this chemistry was all in your head. Enough questioning to allow these feelings to remain at a standstill--or at least until he broke first. 

This Valentine's Day seemed like any other day at the BAU, but when you arrived at your desk, you found a bouquet of pink carnations and a teddy bear holding a card. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the flirty message. 

"To the one who captures my thoughts as easily as she profiles unsubs. Happy Valentine's Day."

You couldn't help but think it was from Hotch. Carnations and a teddy bear? Not what you would have imagined Hotch picking out, but nonetheless, thoughtful. Unexpected. Thrilling. 

He was finally crossing that line drawn in the sand. The one you blurred and blurred but ultimately never swept away. 

Excitement bubbling up inside you, you rushed to share the news with Penelope Garcia, your go-to confidante for all things romantic and dramatic. The one who had been arguably rooting for you and Hotch more than anyone. 

Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in her, or maybe…just maybe, the proof was there in plain daylight with the way you and Hotch played your games with one another. Like a tennis match of back and forth--over and over. 

“My gosh,” Penelope squealed, looking at the card, “I mean…I can’t believe it. What are you going to do? What are you going to say!?” She leaned forward, capturing your arm, almost to steady her own excitement. 

“I want to do something for him…something nobody’s ever done for him before.” You thought carefully. 

Many would argue that you were…of the dramatic kind. Maybe that’s why you and Penelope got along so easily. Hotch would argue that you were dramatic the most. You often used it to your own advantage with him. 

You knew--although you’d both never admit it--you had Hotch wrapped around your finger so it was easy to use those puppy dog eyes when you didn’t feel like completing a case assignment or if you wanted the bigger room at the hotel. 

“You know,” Penelope pondered, “Now that I think of it,” She scrunched her face, “All of these years here, I’m not sure anyone’s ever left Hotch a Valentine. I mean…I gave him a pink fostered sugar cookie once, but even Haley…I don’t think there was anything here for him.” 

You smirked, raising an eyebrow, “He doesn’t seem like the type that’s going to like a velvet heart-shaped box filled with fruit-filled chocolates.” 

“That man is a closet sweet eater,” Penelope pointed at you, “But to your point, you’ve gotta do something…something grand. Something that will knock his argyle socks off.” 

You snorted, then really thought. Grand. Grand? What would be grand? Then it came to you. 

“I have the best idea.” 

The two of you giggled and brainstormed extravagant ideas to win Hotch's heart, finally settling on a grand gesture that no one could ignore--a billboard confession. You found the idea so wildly romantic, the perfect way to tell Hotch how you felt.

With Penelope's enthusiastic encouragement, you commissioned a billboard on Hotch's route home.

“Be My Valentine, Aaron Hotchner! Love your Y/N” 

However, as you prepared to leave work that evening, you received a call from the local police department asking if you enjoyed the flowers. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the voice--it was the overly friendly officer from your last case, the one Hotch had given a look to the entire time. 

The cheesy teddy bear. The cheap carnations. The corny card. None of that would be Hotch. You wanted to die. Crawl into a ball and die of embarrassment and stupidity, but not until after you got rid of that billboard!

Frantic, you rushed to find Rossi, Derek, and Spencer, blurting out your predicament and the mistake you’d made. They erupted into laughter but saw the urgency of the situation.

"We’ve got to get that billboard down before Hotch drives home!" you exclaimed, your face burning with embarrassment. You paced around the bullpen, looking up to Hotch’s office, then to them, then back up. You ran your hand over your face, stressed. 

Rossi, Spencer, and Derek gathered around you, each wearing an expression that meant business. Derek leaned against his car, arms crossed. "You know, you could just leave that billboard up. It's about time one of you made a move."

Rossi nodded, his wise eyes fixed on you. "We're all tired of the dance, kid. It's not just you suffering from all this uncertainty--Hotch is right there with you. You both need to take that leap."

Spencer chimed in, "Statistically, the likelihood of mutual feelings being reciprocated in situations like these is quite high. You might be pleasantly surprised."

You appreciated their support, but the thought of Hotch seeing the billboard without understanding the context terrified you. You grabbed your car keys and headed to the nearest hardware store. "I just need to fix this before it gets worse," you muttered more to yourself than to them.

At the hardware store, you picked up a bucket of paint and a roller, your hands trembling slightly at the thought of climbing up the billboard. Heights had never been your friend, but today, they seemed a lesser evil compared to the embarrassment of Hotch reading your unintended public declaration.

With the sun setting, you parked your car by the billboard and stared up at the looming structure. Steeling your nerves, you looked up toward the tall ladder that led to a ledge where the freshly painted billboard sat. You wished the service you paid earlier was available after hours to come and take down the work they had done so quickly. 

Each step up made your heart pound louder, but the fear of making a fool of yourself pushed you onward.

Once you reached the top, you positioned yourself to start painting, but a sudden wave of vertigo hit as you peered down. The can of paint slipped from your grip, tumbling down and splattering the ground below with white paint.

You looked up to the sky and raised your hands with defeat and tears forming in your eyes, “Is this some sick joke?!”

Climbing down was even harder, with your hands shaking and tears of frustration starting to blur your vision. Just as you reached the last few rungs, a pair of steady hands gently guided you down. You almost jumped out of your skin, only to turn and see Hotch, his face filled with concern.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, keeping his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

You took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear, turning as you took your last step off the ladder. He steadied you on the last few steps down, his touch reassuring.

"I'm so sorry, Hotch. There’s been a huge misunderstanding," you began, your voice a mix of embarrassment and relief. "I thought those flowers and the teddy bear were from you, and Penelope and I--we…I just got carried away."

Hotch gave you a small, understanding smile. "Emily and JJ told me there was a surprise waiting for me on the freeway home. I left early to see what it was." The last thing you expected was Hotch’s calm voice breaking through your flustered apologies. 

Your heart sank, imagining what he must have thought seeing that message. "I was trying to cover it up before you could see it. I didn’t want you to find out like this." You gestured up to the brightly colored billboard with what felt like the most embarrassing thing in the world displayed for everyone and their mother to see. 

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” His gaze softened as he looked up at the message, then back to you. "I saw the billboard," he admitted a hint of awe in his voice. "Nobody has ever done anything quite like that for me. It was...unexpected, certainly, but kind in a way only you could manage."

Your heart fluttered, surprise etching across your features. "You liked it?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper, unsure if your ears were playing tricks on you.

"I loved it," he corrected gently, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. "You have a knack for the dramatic, but it’s one of the many reasons I..." His voice trailed off, and he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. The pause was palpable, every second stretching longer than the last until finally, he continued, "It’s one of the many reasons I love you."

The world seemed to stop spinning as his words hung in the air. "You love me?" you repeated, your voice a mix of hope and disbelief. Hotch reached up to brush a stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek gently. Your hand reached up to cover his, leaning into his touch. 

Hotch nodded, a soft chuckle escaping him, as if it was common knowledge, like you should already know it--or maybe he realized he should have already said it. 

"Yes, I do. And I think it’s about time I said it."

Emotions swirled within you--relief, joy, and a love that had been quietly simmering for too long. It all bubbled to the surface as you stepped closer, reducing the space between you. "I love you too, Hotch," you confessed, your voice steady with conviction.

His smile was all the encouragement you needed. You both leaned in and under the soft glow of the streetlights and the shadow of the billboard, your lips met in a kiss that sealed the confessions of the day. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory as if both of you were still gauging the reality of the moment. But as certainty took over, it deepened, affirming the years of unspoken feelings and flirtatious banter.

As you both pulled away, Hotch's eyes twinkled with a mixture of contentment and mischief. "Next time," he said with a playful grin, "I'll be the one buying flowers; you’ll know they’re from me. I wouldn’t dare buy you carnations, and they won’t come with a cheap teddy bear."

Your laughter filled the air, light and free, as you both made your way back to your cars, the billboard forgotten but its message now etched in both your hearts.

The next morning, as you walked into the BAU, you stood surprised. There, on your desk, stood two dozen long-stem roses in a vase, their crimson petals vibrant against the mundane backdrop of your office. Attached to the vase was a card, Hotch’s neat handwriting spelling out a message that was both flirty and utterly him: 

"For the record, I prefer dramatic gestures that involve flowers on days other than just February 14th. Here’s to many more, just the way we like them. --A."

The smile that spread across your face lingered long into the day, as did the warmth in your heart, knowing the dance of “will they, won't they” had transformed into a harmonious “finally, we did.”

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @superlegend216

[strangeaxel]

you appear to draw isaac and gerard as being very physically close. cuddly even (:3c), and i want to learn more about this specific aspect because its so cute.. were they always like that? did they have to build up a lot of trust in each other first? how do they see and engage with touch? are/were they ever touch starved?

Drawing a made for the ask lalalala

First of all, thanks for the question! <3

In Gerard's case he used to touch Isaac's hands for example or shoulders to basically indicate he was safe with him and also try to communicate he wanted something more than a friendship with him when they were starting to know each other. I feel like even tho Gerard doesn't consider he's romantic himself in a traditional way i feel he actually is-- (Like when Susana Gimenez asked Charly Garcia if he was romantic and he said yes and Susana asked him "really? You like a dinner, with roses and candles??" And he said "i said im romantic, not stupid" lmao) He calls bitch pet names and cute things even tho she's always abusive towards him, he still tries, so imagine how much freedom could he have with someone like Isaac, a guy that has an anxious attachedment style. I feel he is the way he is in the game as a way of self defense, a way for him to cope with all the shit he has to go through all the time xD so he can't show much emotion or tries to hide it with humor, but in Isaac's world, this paradise isn't so bad, it's more,,, realistic. He doesn't have the constant need to hide his needs in a relationship like he used to (Well, only in private since ... its the 90s-2000s, duh). Gerard started to be more expressive with his physical touch towards Isaac as went time on, cuz of isaac's delusions of people being infected or sinful (this last one mostly because of his alters, for example, Demon) and also so Isaac could have time to process his own feelings, being someone who tries/tried to be a devoted christian this relationship felt wrong in all senses, it took him some time to accept he indeed liked him. Isaac isn't someone who would be nagging you on the streets is he saw you in, for example, a gay relationship, he's ignorant mostly, he doesn't have evil intentions (he also uses this ignorant/innocent view as a way to cope with his own emotions towards man).

While in Isaac's case, once he accepted it/half accepted it started to do your typical couple stuff, only in private, he gets mad when Gerard holds his hand on public and even tho this bothers Gerard a little bit he just can't complain, he understands but also well... his wife was much worst than this. Isaac feels safe cuddling with him, he feels like nothing wrong can happend when he's around (even tho Gerard's bad luck follows him everywhere lol), sometimes when he's having strong episodes because of his delusion it feels like he and him are the only non infected. Isaac has BPD so touch and words mean a lot to him even tho he isn't the best showing his love in a conventional way + he's non verbal for most of the time, it's like they both have two different types of autism lol

I think that's all i have to say about this at least for now, i'm still working on the ship but these types of questions really help me to understand and think of ways to improve it, thanks a lot for the question once again, i'm glad people are interested in knowing about my au/ship.

The song i used as lyrics for the drawing (i love this Tribute so much, please go check it out):

[beevean]

You know I actually think that Lisa flat out forgetting the fact that she had begged Dracula not to commit genocide, just so that she and him can have their happy ending, is actually far more problematic than any case of fridging from the games

Of course fridging a female character just to further a male character's story is absolutely wrong, but N!Lisa's very personality and character motivation for even loving Dracula in the first place (ie:the fact that he still had some good in him and the possibility for him to learn to coexist peacefully with humans) got completely flipped over their head just so that her husband could get an (undeserved) happy ending

The former sacrifices the character's life, the latter destroys their literal character

It essentially treats Lisa as Dracula's "reward" for...doing all the fucked up things that he did. It's an actual, textual example of objectifying a female character

I noticed some time ago that the show doesn't really judge Dracula's action morally, only logically.

Even the most Alucard can say is that it's a shame that his father won't use his genius and knowledge for good because the CHURCH BAD has pushed him to do evil, or that his victory would lead to an empty world. He never points out how utterly disrespectful Dracula is being to his wife's (Alucard's mother) memory: she wanted to help mankind, she (allegedly) cared about mankind, and he's honoring her by exterminating her own species that she wanted to help and heal. That is fucked up, and it shows that Dracula may have loved Lisa, but he did not respect her for who and what she was. But the story only beats you over the head with how stupid and shortsighted and self-destructive Dracula's mass slaughter is, eventually warping it to "ohhh he's just trying to kill himself the long way around 🥺 poor depressed little meow meow 🥺" yeah sure uhhhhh his demons ate babies and he was willing to let vampires starve to death as a price to literally kill everyone. If he only wanted to kill himself, nothing stopped him from stepping into the sun.

I also pointed out how Lisa shows no concern at all for her own son, not thinking about him in her last moments of her life, gleefully leaving him to his grief once she comes back to life (which is one of the parts in NFCV that personally insult me). Why? Because it's all about Dracula. In SoTN, Lisa talks to Alucard, she wants him to do the right thing, and only at the end she expresses her love for her husband - love, not "please stop my hubby from committing genocide because I know he will". Sure, painting Lisa as some sort of cross between Jesus and the Virgin Mary isn't exactly peak female representation because women are not inherently pure saints, but you know, it's still better than Lisa being written as the spineless wife of the Devil and a shitty deadbeat mother while still meant to be seen as this kindhearted person and Dracula's only morality chain!

I really, really am uncomfortable with how whitewashed Dracula is, and how this reflects on the other characters.

And yes, the end really is sick from this point of view. I keep bitching about Lenore and Isaac's "redemption arcs", because one is still the callous abuser she was in S3 behind all the "bonding" and the other woke up one day and decided to become a hero but more or less only to feel good about himself and his life. But Dracula... didn't even go through that. He didn't even pretend to change, or realize he was in the wrong. He died only lamenting that he was killing his boy! That was what broke him! He was horrified that he was about to kill "Lisa's greatest gift to him"! Which sure, it's a wholesome sentiment, but he didn't even have the time to think that maybe his plan was just fucked up from the start. And he gets a saccharine good ending on a silver platter? Lisa is just forgetting that she died with the fear that her husband would kill everyone in her name, screaming to please not hurt her because Dracula is worse than Satan?

It really feels like he was a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, and Lisa was the pacifier stuffed in his mouth to keep him calm. There, wife back, now stop being evil. Not because he had a change of heart, but because he got what he wanted.

That ending is objectively awful under so many aspects, from a characterization and lore standpoints, and I know it was shoved there only as a response to backlash to S3's bleakness. No thematic relevance whatsoever - Isaac's comment that Hector shouldn't bring Dracula back because he has earned his rest feels like the remains of a first draft in retrospect. It's just "yay everyone not named Hector lives happily ever after <3 only good feels all around <3"

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife pointed look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even more with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thought on how many lives were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wishky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thought all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propouse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the fork pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[tasteleeknow]

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 

“God, you scared me.” 

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 

You loved him. 

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 

It falls. 

You’re pathetic without it. 

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 

Not an option. 

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 

You shake your head. 

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 

“Not really.” 

His eyebrows pull together. 

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“I—” 

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

[hanasnx]

" GIVE ME THE SWEETEST GOODBYE THAT I EVER DID RECEIVE " — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: takes place during the events of the marvel's spider-man 2 game. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | morning sex mention | mild exhibitionism | sex against a window.

"You forgot your lunch again." are words PETER PARKER has heard too many times. He spins in place, disengaging from his work to face you, his girlfriend, who so graciously conquered his paper bagged lunch and retrieved it for him like his knight-in-shining-armor.

"Knew I was forgetting something." he murmurs, receiving the sack from you and stealing a greeting kiss from your lips in the same motion.

"Yeah, you left in kind of a hurry this morning." you reply with an impish grin tugging at your lips, leaning your palms at the edge of his desk. You meet his eyes over your shoulder, noting his knowing smile.

He approaches you from behind, lowering his voice to speak in your ear. "Well, that's because someone wouldn't let me." The lunch crinkles as he sets it down, and he hesitates to return to his work when you're here clearly vying for some attention, bringing up this morning of all things...

"Oh, right, because it was all me." you retort sarcastically, breaking exchange of a look to spy on his monitor. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but the stuff Pete does has you at a loss. It's gibberish written across his screen that he no doubt understands and could teach a class on. The thought of his competency drifts your mind elsewhere to the more alluring traits he took on before he left for work. How curious his hands were traversing your body after waking up next to you, kneading your bare form under covers, tucking himself behind you with his morning wood until that confidence bought him some sleepy sex. You heat up, and bite your lip at the memory.

You snap out of your trance, and make more conversation before you excuse yourself so he can get back to work. "Where is everybody?" you ask, voicing your observation. Since you got in, you haven't seen anybody.

Peter pours some coffee into a paper cup, fixing it up how you like it. Steam rises past the rim as he stirs it, and he draws his hand up to suck some sweetness off of his index finger. Your chest jumps, the residual recollection of what it's like to be filled stings your insides. Shifting your weight from leg to leg gives you the subtlest of frictions, and you try to conceal your growing interest by averting your eyes. He brings you the warm cup, handing it to you gently as he looks out through the glass of his office to the lobby. "Harry gave them the rest of the day off. It was in preparation for some repairs—" He glances at you during his explanation, and when you flash a questioning expression, he clarifies. "—er, for the particle accelerator. Apparently, there was some mistake with scheduling so Harry's out trying to get it sorted. I figured I should at least get something done while I'm here waiting it out."

You enter in a well-timed joke. "You should do me." Peter eyes you thoughtfully.

It was not a joke, and it was excellently timed.

"Did you know I've always wanted to fuck in your—mm—office?" you ask, panting while he yanks you back on his dick. Pressed up against the window that overlooks the lobby, your breath fogs it up. Your hands brace flat against it, its temperature cooling your heated skin, indenting your perked nips.

Peter's chuckle through his nose sounds behind you, and it widens your intoxicated grin. "S'not just mine, baby. What's he gonna say when he sees your tit-prints all over the glass?" Some of the stuff Peter says really gets you, his words shooting straight through you as his dirty talk often does. You moan in response, sucking a breath through your teeth right after, biting your lip hard as he plows your pussy. His steady hands on your hips make sure you can't recoil too much and run away too far, he keeps you right where he wants you so easy.

"We could've kept more clothes on, Pete." you gasp, your tone reminiscent of admonishment even though you loved how he flicked your shirt up to squeeze your tits between the window and your body. Knowing him, he'd been waiting to do that since you walked in.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"You sound like you wanna get caught."

"You think I haven't thought about showing you off?"

[saeun]

ꪆ୧ ── NOWHERE TO RUN ┊ FACE IT ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: sukuna ryomen ◟ megumi fushiguro.

꒰ excuses or oblivious ﹢ one way or another, they're gonna be hit with the question “what are we?” — sorta.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: writer's block had me so bad the only thing i couldve done was 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓽 : 𝓳𝓳𝓴 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

SUKUNA RYOMEN ⟡ he’ll never answer you.

“why?” you questioned him.

your voice held a tone he's not quite familiar with — it's confusing him.

you've laid sukuna flat on the bed, straddling him so he's forced to listen. trapping him under you was the only way left. sukuna's somewhat a strong man, it took barely ten percent of his energy to lift you off his desk and kiss you goodbye with sweet lies.

there's none of that now — at least during this moment. the night's fallen, he's off duties, and you're clearly not busy. there isn't room for any other variable that can counter your moment. you've calculated this meticulously.

sukuna doesn't answer. he busied his hand with the hem of your skirt, focusing his eyes more on the fabric than yours that held every unspoken emotion you felt.

the silence fails to bother you. you continued with your question despite him giving his attention to the clothes that adorn you instead of the person wearing it.

“is it a game? a push and pull game with me? you seem to enjoy deflecting.”

your once laid out palm on his chest fists the shirt, slightly tugging it. he still fiddles with your skirt, but his eyes finally found yours.

“hmm, not sure. i don't really enjoy games like that.”

a lazy smile appears on him, complimenting his visuals further.

usually you'd mirror his expressions but this time there's no mocking smile. furrowed eyebrows and a frown appeared.

“amazing, your humor never fails to amaze me.”

“the others do say i have some humor in me.”

“that's not how i—”

“i know,” he sighs, “i already know what answer you want from me— or what answer you want to hear.”

sukuna emphasizes on the last few words, tilting his head at your expression.

you're slightly puzzled. is it truly that you want to hear an answer that will satisfy you or the truth? even that brings along the question of what is the truth?

you gulped, picking at the skin on your bottom lip with your teeth.

“stop fucking with my head,” you muttered.

“then let's call it a night.” he shrugs, tapping on your thigh.

you ignore his signal to get off him. to hell with him.

a heavier sigh leaves sukuna. he has work to return to in the morning, it's quite late into the night, and he clearly isn't allowed to sleep in a comfortable position.

“fine, do what you want, but you should get some sleep as well.” his arm stretches out, cupping your face.

his palm's warm, making you press your cheek against it.

“lean down,” he says.

you're suspicious but went along with his words. surely you wouldn't come to regret it, right?

quite the opposite. the moment you were an inch away from noses touching, his hand moved from cupping your face to behind your head, pushing you down for a kiss.

“goodnight,” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss.

yet another failure added to your list.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO ⟡ well, he had a different idea.

megumi's at the dining table, enjoying his drink as he picks back up on the page he bookmarked before bed. a proper way to start his day.

nobara's also at the dining table, with both hands crossed over her chest. not a proper way to start her day.

she's been meaning to get into it with megumi since... two days ago! what happened two days ago? she met with a dear friend she brags about and listened to relationship problems.

according to said friend, it feels as though a certain guy had lead them on. nobara, being a good friend, assured them that the guy hadn't mean it but this was an obvious attempt of comfort.

when said friend described the guy and his behaviour, she felt a chill down her spine. the description felt oddly familiar... perhaps a bit too familiar. she's sure she knew the guy, but who is it?

it was only when the sentence “with his stupid fucking hair” left the dear friend, her putting-clues-together function turned on.

the guy was megumi fushiguro, her dormmate. and also a dear friend.

ever since that day she's been planning to confront him but she procastinated. this was partially due to her not being told directly by her dormmate that he's in a ‘relationship’ so it felt like she eavesdropped.

as megumi took the final sip of his drink, he carefully placed it on the coaster. he read one more full page of the comic before he questioned nobara with no eye contact.

“is something bothering you?”

“yes! well, technically it's not me but...” nobara trails off, she's not quite sure continue.

taking a deep breath, she slams her both palms on the table, leaning in to gather megumi's attention.

“so there's this friend right?”

“yeah.”

“and they're having issues with their relationship. so, the guy kinda lead them on by being all boyfriend-y, i assume, and giving off subtle hints. whenever things get quote-on-quote advanced, the guy somehow takes the relationship two steps back. they think they're reading into it too much but also don't know what to do because the guy sometimes goes ghost.”

she hits him with all information at once. nobara rambled, ending it with a ‘phew’. her heartbeat raced for whatever reason. maybe it's because she's indirectly telling her friend he's a shitball.

“oh,” the perpetrator responds, closing his book with one hand.

if they were in a cartoon, there would surely be three question marks floating above nobara's head.

oh? just an oh? nothing else? she thinks, judging him.

“damn, that guy's an ass.” he extends his previous statement, not knowing that he just called himself an ass.

“well...!” a sweat bead forms on nobara's forehead. “what if — just what if i told you that guy is you?”

“me? you jest.”

“i fucking wish! i'm talking about you and whatever you have going on with (y/n),” she mumbles the last words, taking her dormmate's sandwich for herself.

megumi's eyebrow raises. he doesn't like what he's hearing. him? leading someone on? that someone being you? what's with the sudden twist?

“that's... hmm.” he crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back into the chair, “i thought we were already in a relationship— (y/n) and i that is.”

the sandwich wasn't a pleasant experience. upon hearing megumi's words, she immediately choked. the twists just kept coming.

“you—” a cough interrupts. “you both are fucking stupid.”

“shit — should i go meet with (y/n)?” megumi asks with urgency, staring at nobara for an answer.

“that shouldn't even be a question. make haste!”

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐘𝐀𝐊 ✮ FLORIAN WIRTZ

summary. it’s kind of pathetic the way the two of you always come crawling back to each other.

warnings. emotional warfare. florian is down bad. light smut but heavy feelings. florian is lowkey pathetic in this. 18+

gabri speaks! unfortunately i am a florian girlie. anyways i’m back! heavily inspired by byak by alvaro diaz ft. rauw alejandro.

THE CROWD GROANS as florian hits the crossbar for the second time that night. the camera man makes sure to zoom in on him as his hands go up in frustration. florian stares at the goalkeeper in disbelief as he runs back into his position. another missed chance, another bad rating, another night of him stressing himself out. if there was one person in all of germany that night happy about his performance it was you.

your relationship with the player was controversial, what was once a promising relationship had turned sour, and quickly. the two of you had mutually decided that a committed relationship wasn’t in the cards for either of you. it had grown toxic to the point where you’d flirt with his teammates on purpose to provoke him which worked because you’d always end up in his bed and never in a foreign room. in fact you couldn’t quite remember when was the last time you had hooked up with anyone else.

meanwhile the brunette found himself staring at his phone on the ride home. chatter and music filled the team bus yet only one thing clouded his mind, did you watch the match? he was hoping a teasing message of yours would already be in his notifications, and when he saw there’s wasn’t one he sighed. as his teammates argued over their errors and mistakes he couldn’t help opening the messages between the two of you. the countless deleted messages and hidden pictures as well as the timed ones made him remember the many nights the two of you would spend on the phone.

the sound of your voice filled his head and when he saw you were online he immediately turned off his phone. was it possible you had finally gotten tired of your messed up relationship?

“bro, are you okay?” kai asked seeing the state his teammate was in. florian’s leg was bouncing and his demeanor had changed dramatically.

“i’m fine, thanks.” he offered him a curt smile before staring out the window again.

he wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, in fact he felt worse than he did after missing the goal. he’s not sure why but as soon as the team arrives back to the hotel he’s on his way to your flat. he makes a quick stop at the chinese place the two of you like beforehand making sure he doesn’t show up empty handed. it was already pathetic enough that he was showing up past midnight he could at least make up an excuse with the food.

he hopes the black hoodie he wore is enough to hide his identity from bystanders. although with all the pacing he does outside your hallway he hopes no one thinks he’s a robber. as he adjusts his hoodie he can’t help but think, why am i so nervous? after all it’s not the first time he knocks on your door at these hours.

“do you hate me?” is the first thing you hear as you open the door.

you study his frame and notice his disheveled hair and the training kit from the national team. you’ve never seen him so disorganized and upset — if that was the right word to use — you were amused. as his face grows concerned with your lack of answer you notice the takeout he has in his hands. the poor guy was either desperate or he had lost his mind. both of which could be true.

“what the fuck florian?” you look at him weird as you question him.

“you didn’t text me today.” he says as if that simple sentence answered your question.

“so what? i don’t text you every other week and you never show up at my apartment with food. what’s going on?” you’re even more confused than before.

“you always text me after a game.” he tries to explain like it’s the most logical thing ever.

you can’t help the half scoff and half laugh you let out. he couldn’t be serious right now. was he seriously at your apartment past midnight because he was freaking out over a message?

“okay seriously you need to get a girlfriend you’re starting to creep me out.” you joke.

“you say that while you’re wearing my jersey.” he l doesn’t even need you to turn around to know that you were wearing the leverkusen jersey he had gifted you months ago.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you it’s entrancing. you stare at him and realize he’d made his way over to you immediately after the game. all because he was waiting for your message. meanwhile there’s something about you wearing his jersey for casually that makes you all more enchanting to him. there’s a mutual look between the two of you and in the blink of an eye his hands are on your waist, yours on his jaw, and his lips are on yours.

it’s poetic really the way he closes your door as he pushes you into your apartment and drops the takeout on your coffee table in the process. your hands already digging into his hair and his hold you tight as he carried you into your room. it’s all muscle memory. the darkness of your bedroom adds to the feeling of having him so close to you again.

“i think i-” he pauses not wanting to be so vulnerable in this predicament but you know what he wants to say. you freeze.

“florian you know i can’t. it didn’t work out the first time. i can’t do it again.” you grab his jaw making sure the two of you are making eye contact. his brown eyes captivate yours.

“i can’t either but i can’t live without you.” he whispers the end. “it will always be you.”

you drag his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. it would always be him too. the only person that consumed your every thoughts and the only person you were worried about getting hurt was him. always. you look into his eyes as he drags his fingers to your core and sigh as he begins to tease you. he’s also the only man you fantasize about.

“promise?” you ask him.

the moonlight barely allows you to see him fully but you catch the smirk on his face. the same one that had captivated you years ago at the bar. his fingers are so close to your needy hole. you can’t help but audibly gasp as he inserts them inside you causing an illicit groan from him. your nails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you with his digits. meanwhile he kisses you from your collarbone to your neck.

“i promise.” he whispers against your ear.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly helping you reach your high. it was only fair you were treated right. it was small details like this that had you wondering why the two of you couldn’t just commit to each other. you’re distracted as he leaves marks on your neck and his fingers curve inside you. you can’t help the loud moans that leave your mouth as you reach your high. your hands dig into the sheets as you come around his fingers.

he continues kissing you as he begins to take his hoodie off. you’re quick to stop him before he begins undressing himself.

“do i need to remind you that you didn’t score today? you’re not getting any tonight.” you adjust your shorts.

“so you did watch the game then.” he wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“i always do.” you whisper as you cuddle into him.

that’s how you spend the rest of the night, snuggled into his body as it rains outside. it’s quite an intimate moment shared between the two of you. you’re not quite sure if you should be worried or content with the turn your relationship with florian took. you decide it’s rather late and with the way he holds you you don’t think much more. after all he promised and while you knew florian was many things he was not an oath breaker.

[simp-ly-writes]

Boss & Bothered

Pairing: Boss!Spencer Agnew x assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Spencer is your boss to a degree and you spent a large majority of time by his side that you begin thinking things about your boss an employee really should not be considering...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, boss/employee relationship, creepy man, harassment, protective!spencer, implied offscreen- VERY suggestive themes, kissing.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,708

─ · · A/N: thank you for the ask, anon! 🫶 and if you know me personally, out of all the things you read, please don't read this one, I went into a different world while writing this... hahaha erm...

─────── · ·

You had a crush on your boss. As the assistant to the Smosh Games channel you spent almost every moment by his side and there was not a single odd task you had not done; like running to the thrift store to get ten red shirts or to the corner store when the kickstarter and assorted energy drinks were out of stock in the kitchen.

You loved you job and truly loved working beside Spencer and you did not know at what point when those friendly stares and touches had become romanticized in your head. From him always opening the door for you or reminding you to take a break (or another one), he never once took all the extra work you did around the studio for granted and maybe that was a cause for the rose-tinted glasses.

Yet when he would bring your favourite coffee order in the morning even when you had said every time that that was your part of the job, he would just wave a hand in your face, assuring you before walking over to his desk- his schedule for the day already printed (and colour-coded, obvriously) so that the day would move smoothly.

Yet even when the day did not, Spencer never snapped or showed any anger towards you. Still being the caring and understanding boss you knew him to be, boss, you remind yourself. Yet you both acted past your positions, you had met his friends outside of work, went out for drinks with him at the end of a long day and even had dinner at his place one time (or maybe it was two times? three times? cant be more than four times?).

But that was just it right? You were both friendly co-workers. Or well, boss and worker but Spencer never held his position above your own, or at least not when it was important. He would pull the boss card as a joke every now and then off-camera that you feigned annoyance to much to the enjoyment of everyone else who loved his on-going joke around the office. A joke was all this is, just some lighthearted teasing when he puts a fleeting hand on my shoulder to ensure I know it is a joke.

But that all seemed to change when a developer from a gaming studio came in to demo the game alongside the cast. Spencer would be starring in this video, you sat behind camera, ready and waiting with his phone and can of kickstarter as you sorted through emails on your tablet, unknowing to the presence beside you.

"Hey, do you know where the director is? I have a tight schedule to be on since I... need... to... be..." his words slowed as the sentence progressed before falling off completely as the developer look at you. His mouth slightly agape before quickly fixing his hair and jaw. Looking up from your tablet, shutting it off quickly as to not give away company secrets, you presented a friendly smile to the individual. "Sorry, could you repeat your question please? I was a little bit tied up on these emails," you say, tapping your fingers against the metal device to exaggerate your point.

"Oh, um, haha, yeah, I was-a looking for the director. Do you know where he is, love?" you cringe automatically at the nickname, leaning slightly away in your chair as you look around the room quickly trying to find Alex Tran. You begin to cringe up your spine, contracting into yourself when the developer takes a half step closer to your chair, you can hear his breathing in your ear that has your smile twitching before you stand to present more space between the two of you.

"I don't see him here at the moment, we are also shooting another video the next studio over. I'm sure as soon as the cast is done there in..." you click on Spencers phone to see the time, "...in 10 minutes. Do you have everything you need to run the software or is there anything else I can get you in the meanwhile?" you ask politely, hands gripping your tablet as the man smiles.

"Alright, thats okay, that you for letting me know. I could really go for a coffee if its not a hassle? Maybe I could also add my number-" you take a big sigh out in relief once hearing the door to the studio open. Alex, Spencer, Courtney, Amanda and Trevor all filing in one by one. Your eyes meet Spencer's as he pauses his conversation with Trevor, eyebrow raised in question as you tip your head towards the developer that stands back by your side.

Spencer's brows furrow as he walks over to you, a smile plastering itself against his features as he steps in between the two of you, extending his hand as a physical barrier. "Hi, Tyler is it? I'm Spencer the head of this channel and Alex over there will be directing the video. Apologies for the delay, Trevor, Courtney, and Amanda were all finishing a shoot. I hope you understand?" Spencer clarifies, pointing at everyone he mentions, tone leaving no rude for argument.

"Yes, this lovely sir/miss, told me. I never got your name sweetheart-" Spencer coughs, his shoulders tense as he looks over his shoulder at you, "Could you go check in with Alex and see if he's doing alright? I can see the set up from here," Spencer pulls his boss tone at you for the first time without a joke or fault and all you can do is nod, pivot on your heel and walk towards Alex.

"Everything alright there, superstar?" Alex teases. Supserstar, that's what the Games department staff called you, seeing you run around like a shooting star while managing a thousand jobs in one with grace, simply put a superstar and you were gracious for the name as you nod at Alex. "Yeah, a lot better now, he was... very friendly." You choose your words carefully, knowing that the developers team is sponsoring todays video and fuelling your pay check.

"Mhmm," Alex hums out, carefully watching Spencer speak with the developer. The passive aggressive undertone is a surprise to everyone in the room from how friendly Spencer usually was. "Spencer really seems worked up, did something happen during the last shoot?" You ask, refusing to turn yourself back around before the cameras roll.

"No, he actually ended up successfully losing Don't Win Mario Kart but I think this is a more recent than that thing, what exactly did the guy say to you?"

"Oh, well he was... nice. Just like I said, a bit too friendly for me upon first meeting. Kept calling me pet names and stuff like that, didn't get handsy or anything, must be a cultural thing," you say before subconsciously taking a drink from the open Kickstarter can without a second thought. "Makes sense then," Alex shrugs before walking over to the filming crew as you follow behind and sit back in your chair. "What makes sense then?" you wish to clarify yet receive no answer except a presence by your side.

"Hey, you doing okay? I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier to help," Spencer comments, taking his phone and drink from your hands with a tight smile that does not seem to reach his eyes. "Yeah, thank you handling it. I didn't want to seem rude to him-" you begin to clarify to your boss who cuts you off. "You did nothing wrong, you did everything right. I sorted out the rest, THAT shouldn't happen again," Spencer points out strongly before taking a sip of Kickstart.

"Oh," is all you manage to get out before Alex calls the cast to their positions and you open your tablet again and move back to those emails only to find your mind drifting, cheeks warming at Spencers protective display...but any other boss would do that right? Protect their employees from clients... and what about what Alex said earlier too...

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you mindlessly reply to email after email and fix everyones schedules before sending them out for tomorrow morning. The cameras are still rolling as you fix yourself in your chair, trying to become more comfortable for only a five minute break to be called and you are standing up in an instant to update Spencer on all the new information you received.

Spencer stands right beside you, leaning against your chair, can in between his hands and glasses slipping down his nose as he watches you intently rambling on and on about the tight schedule him and Alex had after this shoot to maintain while also taking a dinner break. Yet what caught you off guard was how comfortable you felt being so close to him, your arms touching every time you breathed, his gaze so trained onto you that it held you confused as to why you reacted to negatively to the man before. Slowly looking over to Alex who was already looking between the two of you with a knowing smile.

─────── · ·

Since then the dynamic had changed in the office, or at least between you and Spencer. You both were closer (if that was thought possible by the rest of the staff), so close in fact that you both were called into Ian, Anthonys, and HR's office that morning.

"Hey guys," Ian greeted, albeit a bt awkwardly as he looked between the two of you. Anthony offered a wave from behind the desk as well, it felt as is your parents were sitting you down for a talk, your cheeks painted pink as you looked at Spencer to only find support as he shrugged and leaned in saying, "Seems like we are the ones in trouble for once, what are we going to do superstar?"

And all you can do his shove him away playfully, refusing to look at Ian and Anthony as soon as papers came onto the table. "So... before we get started. You both have been doing amazing work, both together and a part but this is not a promotional meeting," Ian began before Anthony took over, they seemed to have rehearsed this...

"We are, as well as HR, who deemed that it might be easier to talk to us that you two are potentially seeing each other, and there is nothing wrong with that! We just need to know if you need to swap departments," Anthony says looking at you. You rapidly shake your head, laughing away the sweat that is building on your palms, rubbing them on your pant legs now refusing to look at Spencer, nervous that the crush you had been harbouring for some time now was being forced into the light.

Spencer also appeared to be refusing to look in your direction as well, stuck in a starring contest with Ian as the room laid in wait before Spencer spoke up, "We are not, formally, seeing one another, though I do enjoy spending time with them outside of work, as I hope they do too?'

"Yes, of course I do. I don't see you as my boss when we sit and eat out like that Spence," you mention to only received a raised brow that has your eyes widening at your word choice... should've just said outside of work, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Your cheeks have never burned so hard, your nails digging into your pant leg only for a hand to rest on top of them, easing you to relax. And by trailing your eye up to a tattooed arm that you would kill to colour in, you stop dead in your tracks at the hint of a smile on Spencers lips before you both are dismissed without signing a singular paper (or at least yet, you hope).

"Only at dinner, huh?" Spencer presses as soon as the door closes but you keep on walking in front of him as he jogs in front of you, causing you to pause in your steps. The cubicles are now all left empty as everyone has left for lunch, you two are the only ones in this way to large of a room, yet it does not seem large enough for the conversation you are about to unpack.

"... what do you want me to say, Spencer?" you press back, dodging the question successfully for a round as Spencer takes a step back, hands raising slightly from his sides. "I'm just curious where else I would be your boss outside of work if dinners are the only thing that counts..."

"Spencer!" you whisper shout, mind already going into the nooks and crannies you did your best to hide. You looked around but had not yet felt uncomfortable by the converssation, only the unbearable heat starting to crawl up your skin as his harm drapes itself over his forehead. His buttoned shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his signature leather boots creak as he shifts his weight. He seems as bothered as you are right now... as he cannot stand still....

"Oh... I see now," Spencer begins, his low tone has you moving closer to grasp onto his next words, your heart races, your brain a bit fuzzy but you don't feel nervousness or the least bit scared. In fact, you feel freer than ever in this moment, unloading what you desperately tried to hide for so long. "...where else do you hear my voice telling you what to do outside of work?" Spencer continues, keeping his tone even as you meet eyes catching a flickering of surface level genuine curiosity mixed with something, deeper, almost hidden...

You gasp, Spencer tilts his head, putting that little sound to memory as he waits for you to take the next step closer and you invite yourself to. You can feel the heat coming from his body, you both stand so close, you chests brushing up against one another, your breath hitching as he fixes his hair while staring at you. "Spencer..." your voice worries yet comes off as a whine, "What?" Spencer asks softly, still allowing you control that has you really questioning of going back inside that office and signing those damn papers.

"We can't do this right now, here in the office, please," you manage to get out behind your brain imagining every scenario where you press him up against a white wall and not kiss him all over to you both are breathless. "But outside?" Spencer asks once more, "Outside of dinner?" Spencer presses further as you only nod once, "yeah, outside," you confirm before taking a step back as he does the same, swallowing harshly and playing with his hair once more.

"Okay then," Spencer confirms.

"Okay then," you copy and for the remaining day in the office. You are sitting awkwardly in chairs, fingers aching to put your digital signature to the e-document as you keep sneaking glances at one another. It does not help when his phone buzzes in your lap that has you startling upright during the end of a shoot (thankfully).

The car ride back was even more tense, you both car-pooled often, living in the same building but watching him out of the corner of your eye as you changed the stick-shift, his arm, showing off his inner arm tattoos came to close to your hand, just teasing its way to your leg, you quickly parked, feeling that you were squirming in your chair, utterly restless.

─────── · ·

You both barely managed to get into the apartment and lock the door before your hands were on one another, breaths equally catching and being saved. Spencer groaned against your touch as you fell weak at the knees and fell back onto the couch where he met you and watching his cage you in, leaning in closer and closer, the documents lingered on your mind that had you presses your hands to his chest.

Spencer immediately stood up, "You doing alright, darling? Did I do something wrong?" your heart raced even more. "We, I- need to sign those papers right now before we continue..." you point between the two of you, intently looking up at his pink lips, "...this," you breathe out as Spencer sits down on the coffee table, feeling around for his phone as you both scramble to put your e-signatures on while also claiming sick leave... for you both would not be showing up tomorrow morning either once feeling his lips and the caress of his skin against your own.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: 😮‍💨 whew... umm... No Part 2's on this one! (sorry)

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt

[wandassweetheart]

REAL MAN

currently playing… ‘real man’ by beabadoobee

pairing - toxic!rafe x fem!reader

warnings! - angsty, situationship, rafe is pretty toxic, gaslighting? shitty ‘relationship’

a/n - in honour of ‘real man’ being on my top five songs on spotify, enjoy!

no one had ever taught rafe cameron how to be a real man.

since the beginning of the so-called ‘relationship’ you knew rafe wasn’t looking for anything serious. yet, every time you had managed to find yourself back in his bed, wrapped inside his arms. all the times he had slept with other girls you knew you should’ve ended it there and then. but you didn’t. why? because he’d feed you with his “you know i only love you, right?” and “i’m not going for no other,”. but quite frankly you had had enough. you’d already told your mother what he did.

so now, as the morning beckoned, you were on your way to tanneyhill to finally end the ongoing bullshit you’d been experiencing for the last three months. the journey was long, you’d had no car so cycling from the cut to figure eight was your only option, at least you’d had time to think.

after being led by your thoughts all the way to tanneyhill you locked your bike somewhere and walked up to rafe’s back door, since his parents had a natural distaste for pogues with them being kooks and shit. you softly knocked your knuckles against the varnished, wooden door. a familiar voice called out, “i’ll be a second!”.

you had started to get second thoughts as you stood out there, blue. questioning what to do. finally, after what seemed like a long wait, rafe walked out with his face contorting into a surprised shape from seeing you. “what’re you doing here?” rafe asks, not roughly but not in the soft manner he used to use when trying to bribe you for sex.

you took a deep breath and let it all out. “i don’t think this is gonna work out, i need the reassurance, rafe, not a silly romance.” you look down to your feet, hoping that it could all just be over and he’d take it well. but what did you really expect? rafe huffed out a laugh after hearing your words.

“please forgive me just for thinkin’ it’s a fleetin’ romance,” rafe mused back. “thought we both knew this was casual, baby?” he looked down at you with a smirk, braving to lift his hand up to your cheek. you knew it. if rafe had the chance he’d hold you down and take everything, just because he could.

your face fell into a frown as you could feel your dignity washing away and leaving every inch of your body. “oh baby, don’t pout.” he cooed. “shouldn’t you be used to being disappointed for falling too fast, already?” you couldn’t bare to look at him, he was humiliating you. and now you knew how this was going to end. you’d walk into tanneyhill with him and he’d coax you back into doing whatever he wanted, like always.

you felt helpless, you needed his comfort. “it’s okay, baby. i know that what you were saying wasn’t true. i’m still here f’ you, because you’re my girl a’ight?” his wide hand now resorted to holding your cheek to get you to look up at him. you thought, maybe one day if he still wants a relationship with someone else, he can go and get it and you’d hope he last.

but for now, you were his, and imprisoned in his mind games and love.

[riddlerosehearts]

ever since vil's luxe couture groovy was first revealed i have not been able to stop thinking about how much i love him and the way his relationship with gender is written and treated by the narrative. the way that he's a gnc man who refuses to be seen without makeup on, who uses an extremely feminine personal pronoun in japanese ("atashi") and it isn't treated like an unusual thing or a joke. the way he admires the fairest queen, wants to be beautiful like she was and has such an immense amount of pride and confidence in his physical beauty. and then literally not one person in the whole story calls vil's masculinity into question except for epel, who gets told by vil that his views on gender roles and of men doing "feminine" things are backwards and archaic, and ends up having a whole arc where he learns that he was wrong and comes to see his own naturally cute and feminine appearance as a strength!

and then the fact that the narrative doesn't just treat vil normally as a gnc man but also actively celebrates him by having him be such a massive, world-famous celebrity who's so respected and loved?? he's a movie star, he's a model with a record number of runway appearances, he's an influencer who has 5 million magicam followers, if he advertises a product it flies off the shelves. in his dorm uniform vignette an international fashion magazine--which is specifically known for being the first to feature vil on its cover--is coming to interview the pomefiore students for an article on their pursuit of beauty, and the interviewer tells vil that he looks like the fairest queen reborn! and that's how he wants to be seen and is an entirely positive thing!! and with vil being so famous throughout twisted wonderland there will be kids and teens, most certainly including gnc and trans kids, who will look up to him and hear him publicly say things like how there's no such thing as something being just "for girls" or "for boys" and that men shouldn't be ashamed of doing feminine dance moves or wearing certain kinds of clothing. kids who will feel empowered because the vil schoenheit said they could be both beautiful and strong.

idk, it's just, in a lot of other stories i'd expect vil to struggle more because of the way he presents himself and to be treated in a more comedic way because of it. but instead he's a very important and well-developed character who's incredibly successful and confident, who isn't the slightest bit a joke or comic relief character and in fact is one of the most responsible and mature in the whole cast, whose struggles are mostly unrelated to his gender presentation but who gets to defend his right to be happy just the way he is when someone does look down on him for it, and who at least in my opinion gets some of the prettiest cards in the whole game. he is such a cool and unique character and i love him so much and find this aspect of how he's written to be so empowering and refreshing.

[madlori]

"Tommy's good people. He's good for you."

One of the things that tipped me over into thinking that the writers possibly intended Tommy to be a long-term or even permanent relationship for Buck was the scene he shares with Bobby in "Ashes, Ashes."

Bobby is making secret farewells to the 118 as he contemplates quitting his job (and, it might be inferred, quitting his life). He gives Eddie a prayer book. He gives Ravi job encouragement. He gives Hen a pep talk about her family-building, he shares a moment with Ravi, one with Chim, he hands over the cooking reins to Buck. "My work here is done," he says.

And then, to cap off the montage, he shares a one on one moment with Buck, his honorary son, in which he tells Buck that he likes Tommy (who, let's not forget, he knew before he knew Buck), and that he thinks their relationship is good. That's like the Good Housekeeping seal of approval for the relationship. It's Buck hearing from his closest father figure, the man he looks up to, admires, and loves, that he approves of Buck's choice of partner.

Bobby is not just blessing this pairing for Buck - he's doing it for the audience as well. Bobby is the Voice of Benevolent Authority of this show, and to hear him say that Buck and Tommy are good together? It made me think they were really going all the way with this, or at least that's the intention now, and when that scene was written.

This interpretation is, of course, belitted and dismissed by fans who hate the pairing. The grossest response to it I've seen boils down to "well, we shouldn't believe the words of a man who's actively suicidal."

Um...what?

Okay, setting aside the question of whether or not Bobby is actively suicidal (you can argue the point, although he verbally denies being so), let's say he is, just for the sake of argument.

Your position then is that suicidal people, in what they're treating as "final words of wisdom and love" for the people in their lives, are going to then lie to those people? Suicidal people often do lie to their loved ones, but what they lie about is their own mental health. They don't lie when they're saying last goodbyes, or giving final gifts.

But nothing's for certain, so let's say that he is lying to Buck. Did Bobby lie to the other people he had "last conversations" with? Did he lie to Hen about her adoption hopes? Was he lying to Eddie when he gave him the prayer book? Or to Buck about his cooking? Or, for that matter, was he lying to Buck earlier in that same conversation about how far he's come? Clearly not. So now your position becomes that "Bobby didn't lie to anyone else, or to Buck, but then decided to lie to him about this one specific thing that's pretty important, for no reason."

Yeah, I don't think so.

But let's take it a step further. Let's say that you believe, for reasons that defy all logic, that Bobby chose to lie to Buck about approving of his relationship, which would have been an extremely easy lie to avoid (if he actually didn't approve he could have just not brought it up, which he intentionally did).

Great. You believe that. You have that right.

Is that what the writers intended for that scene? Because if you're in the "predicting what's going to happen with BuckTommy" game, then that's what matters. Not what you think, or like, or believe - but what do the writers intend?

So let's examine the scenarios.

In scenario A, the writers say to each other, "Okay, let's have Bobby tell Buck he approves of him and Tommy. But he doesn't really mean that. He's lying about it, even though he's been very sincere in this entire sequence of scenes, because he's suicidal and that somehow makes him a liar just for this one thing, and to want to make Buck feel good about his relationship even though Bobby hates it and hates Tommy. Oh, and the audience will absolutely be able to tell that this is our intention and they won't believe Bobby at all and will definitely know that this relationship is doomed."

In Scenario B, the writers say to each other, "Let's have Bobby tell Buck how far he's come, they can share a moment about their time together, and then Bobby will tell Buck that he likes Tommy and their relationship. The audience will hear this and know that Bobby approves of them, and feel good about the relationship too."

If Scenario A sounds a little convoluted and bananas to you, well...you and me both.

We're not meant to read anything into Bobby's words other than their literal meaning. He's sharing a moment with a man he cares about, telling him things that he wants him to hear. One of those things is that he's happy about Buck's current relationship, and likes the man he's seeing.

Or, you know, bucktommy bones.

<surejan.gif>

[starlightsreigns]

hold up | a lemonade story

summary ⇢ mellie's hanging on by a thread. how much longer can she hang on when one question coils deep in her? is roman... cheating on her? word count ⇢ 1.4k tags ⇢ minors, do not interact. implied cheating | two ; denial “What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you”

i don’t wanna lose my pride, but imma fuck me up a bitch.

“Melody, you’re going to drive yourself insane,” My friend Alyssa sighs. “Don’t you trust him?” 

That’s a great question. However, I’m past the point of giving a damn.  I’m literally driving myself to insanity with all of this and I’m not sure how to bring it up. How do you confront the love of your life about something like this without him immediately going on the defense?

“I don’t trust him, that’s the problem, and I don’t know how to get back to that point anymore.” 

Alyssa is my moral compass, she tries to keep me levelheaded when I feel myself slipping. She’s my best friend, but she’s a big fan of Roman and I’s relationship — Alyssa refuses to believe that he’s this person, that he can be a cheater when he’s been so caring. She sees the best in him. 

“Mellie, what has he done to make you feel this way?”

My eyes meet hers, “Don’t make me feel crazy, Aly, I’m already losin’ it here.”

“I’m not sayin’ that, I promise, I’m just tryna understand how you go to this point.” Alyssa sits up. “Just help me understand and I promise we can fuck his shit up tonight.” She offers a smile. 

While she’s the more levelheaded one of us, the thing I love the most about her is her willingness to support any and every decision I make — even if it’s the craziest shit she’s ever heard.

That’ll be helpful later. 

Somethin’ don’t feel right because it ain’t right.. Comin’ up after midnight

The house is the coldest it’s ever been in a long time. I’m pretty sure the only source of heat is coming from the anger seeping out of my pores when I hear his keys in the lock as I sit on the couch. A book sits in my lap untouched as he comes in through the door. 

“Hey, Mellie,” Roman throws my way lazily. He comes over to kiss my cheek and I can’t help but smell the perfume that radiates off his body. Chanel. At least the bitch has taste. “You up late.” 

My brain wants to cuss him out, but thankfully restraint still exists when I finally reply. “I’d say the same for you, baby, where you been at?”  

Roman glances in my direction while heading to the kitchen, “I went to the PC then had dinner with the twins.” 

“Oh, the twins are in town?” My eyes train on his back. 

There’s no way they can be in town. During a call with Trinity earlier in the day, she told me that her husband and his brother were doing house shows during the week, so, it’s impossible for them to be at dinner. Yet, he seems to think I’m the biggest idiot on planet earth. 

“Yeah, we went to that steakhouse on 85th.” Roman shuts the fridge and turns to look at me. “Then we got drinks at Tini’s and watched the game.” 

Of course, he has an answer for everything. A tinge of rage strikes me in my chest while watching how calm he is. 

“What game did you watch?” 

That stops him for a moment. 

But I continue, “I watched a couple on split screen.” 

Roman runs his hand over his beard then takes a long swig of beer. 

“Cowboys versus the Texans was good.” I bait with a small smile. 

“Yeah, that’s the one, we ain’t seen the results though.” 

Well, of course, he didn’t, maybe because those two teams didn’t have a game tonight. 

To not lose my cool, I let the conversation go. I can see him watching me from the corner of my eyes as I pretend to read my book. There’s nothing else I can say. I’ve caught him in more lies than I can count — and there’s a feeling in my gut that tells me he knows. 

Can’t you see there’s no other man above you?

Most people would judge me and I don’t blame them. Even with my suspicion, I can’t deny the love and affection I have. So, here I am under him. I can’t help it. 

“Look at me, baby,” Roman’s rough voice sharpens my attention. “you look so beautiful.” He runs his hand down my cheek. 

His eyes on me, for the first in a while, feels like how it used to be. It makes me forget all the pain that I’ve felt for so long. This is what I want back. 

My hand grips his wrist, pulling him down onto the bed, maneuvering so I’m on top. 

The gems on my acrylic nails catch some of the light from the moon. My hands are pressed against his chest, holding me steady, keeping the rhythm of our skin slapping together. I throw my head back with a moan, feeling the way he raises his hips to reach deeper into me. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” I breathe out, leaning down to kiss his neck. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” 

It was the truest thing I’ve ever said. It is the truest thing I’ll ever say. 

How did it come down to this?  scrolling through your call list

His phone is empty. She’s not on here, but I know she exists. How can I keep living in the paranoia where I know the ghost exists but there’s no proof of it? I toss his phone back onto his side of the bed with a huff just as he walks out of the bathroom. 

“what’s wrong?” He takes a look at my exasperated expression.

“You know how much I love you, right?” My voice is harsher than I wanted, but it catches his attention. “And we made our vows to be loyal to one another, i’m keeping my end.” 

Roman knits his eyebrows together, “I love you, too, Mellie.” He sits at the edge of the bed. “I’ll always be here.” 

The reassurance I was hoping to feel never comes. Instead, I’m slowly feeling rage. But, I don’t respond but nod. I can’t look jealous or crazy, that’ll only drive him away or make him sneakier. If anything, I need him to slip up. That’s the only way I can make sense of this — Lord, give me a sign. 

What’s worse? Lookin’ jealous or crazy?... I’d rather be crazy. 

Sleep was the last thing on my mind. Instead, my eyes fixated on the TV screen that flickered in the darkness. Roman was sound asleep beside me and my nerves had finally calmed enough for me to wonder if I was going insane. 

I’ve found no tangible proof. Maybe, just maybe, I’m convincing myself of something that isn’t true –possibly self-sabotaging and self-destructing. If I don’t stop now, all my hair will fall out from the stress. Three months of thinking these thoughts are slowly killing me. Not that he’s noticed, but I’ve lost 25 pounds in my mission to find out the nonexistent truth. 

My eyes are slowly closing when his screen catches my attention. It’s three in the morning, who could possibly be texting him? I’ve just come to an agreement with myself and now I’m plunged back into the uncertainty. I should just turn over and fall asleep, but I just need to look at the message and I’ll be over it. 

J: are you really not coming over tonight, baby? i miss you. mellie sees you more than enough. just come over and be back before she wakes up.

My eyes scan the message over and over again. I’m not sure what else I’m looking for, but I’m hoping that at some point the message would read something different — something that doesn’t confirm all my suspicions. I cover my mouth when the tears start to fall, not wanting to wake him up and find me in this position. My chest feels heavy and my feet are a ton of bricks when I make it out of bed. 

Out in the hallway, I slide down the wall with my hands still firmly covering my mouth to swallow the sobs. This isn’t what I wanted nor was it what I needed. My brain feels scrambled with incoherent thoughts. What do I do now? Should I leave? Should I take a baseball bat to his head? Yet, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I might throw up.

It’s difficult for me to get back up to my feet. My body shakes uncontrollably in the darkness and my breathing is shallow until I’m taking deep breaths. I turn to glance into the room, feeling my skin heat up. This feeling isn’t sadness, it isn’t hurt, or disappointment. I’m past denial – what I’m feeling is scorn and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. 

“But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know. Are you cheating? Are you cheating on me?”

please excuse the errors, classes are kicking my ass. hope you’ve enjoyed it 🫶🏽 very excited to post “don’t hurt yourself” x

[vismoney]

- LIKE HIM.

Pairing :: Charles Xavier x Female!Reader, mentions of Father!Erik Lehnsherr x Daughter!Reader.

Summary :: After 8 years of asking Charles the same questions about your father, Erik Lehnsherr, you finally asked him the one question that had been plaguing your mind the most.

Warnings :: Brief mention of smut at the end. Some angst, some fluff. Charles is weird for sleeping with a former student that he used to teach one-on-one, no use of y/n (there will never be on my blog), reader is over 18+ (but then again she was his student for the past 8 years), and reader's mutation is not specified.

Note :: I literally didn't know how to end the story as a whole, so I tried my best 😭 Currently obsessing over Like Him by Tyler, The Creator right now, so this story is inspired by that. Set before the events of X-Men Apocalypse, so Erik is very much still in Poland with his wife and daughter. I'm very nervous since I don't know how to write broken familial relationships, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

“I don’t know where he is.”

Charles had repeated that exact sentence to you for the past 8 years of your life at his school everytime you asked if he knew where your father was, but you were 95% certain that everytime he answered your question, he did know where he was located.

At exactly 8 years after being enrolled at the school by your human mother as soon as the Institute reopened after the Vietnam war, you sat right across Charles at his office, as you two celebrated the anniversary of your enrollment over a competitive game of chess and some reminiscing of some nostalgic memories. The warm lights of the lamps and the soft glow of the fireplace gave the environment a warm setting, in contrast to the cloudy darkness of the night sky outside, it had been raining a lot in Westchester after all.

Being the affair daughter of one of the greatest mutants living on this planet automatically granted you the terrified respect of the people around you, one that you abuse endlessly without consequences, especially with the Professor. You did wonder if he only answered your many questions about your father because he knew if he didn’t, you would either figure it out yourself by leaving the school and endangering yourself, or you’d give him the silent treatment, the latter being the most likely.

You could feel his eyes on you as you debated what move would grant you an easy win with the least amount of chess pieces sacrificed. To most people, Professor Charles Xavier was a serious man who would stop at nothing if it meant it protected mutantkind, or the students at his school. Before you graduated, you had certainly held that opinion of him, even though you were one titled as one of his special students, the kids who had the privilege of chatting with him on the daily and received one-on-one lessons with him, like Jean.

As you moved your rook to take his knight, you leaned back onto your seat and met his gaze. You wondered again if you were only one of his special students because you were Magneto’s daughter or if your powers were truly special and powerful enough that he felt the need of having private lessons with him. 

“I thought you’d have more newer questions about him tonight.” He remarked as he took a sip of his whiskey out of his glass, while retaining his intense eye contact with you. “I thought you wouldn’t ask me again where his location was.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You know that I would immediately tell you first if I had information on Erik’s whereabouts.”

“Really? I thought Hank would have the privilege of that first.” 

Charles quirked up a small smile at your sarcastic remark. He downed all his whiskey at once and placed his glass back at the table. “The last time I checked, he isn’t related to Erik at all; unless Erik has some more unknown children that I don’t know about.”

You smirked as you considered the thought of your absent father having more unknown kids somewhere. “Well, you know him better than I do, Professor, what do you think?”

Charles chuckled and shook his head as he moved one of his bishops to take your rook. “I bet on it, my dear.” He said smoothly.

The discussion about Magneto was quickly forgotten as the night went on, the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of his office was disrupted by quiet grunts and groans filling up the room as you and Charles entangled yourselves in a passionate exchange. 

The early rays of the sun shone in the room as you drew lazy patterns behind Charles’ back as he  laid asleep. The quickly turned innocent celebration to the intense encounter had quickly worn him up, something that you had teased him about multiple times before. As you watched him sleep, the thought of your father crossed your mind again, sending you down into a spiral of endless unanswered questions. Did he know that you exist? How would he treat you if he found out that you are his daughter? Would you look like him?

For an enemy of the US Government, they sure don’t hold any pictures of him at all. From searching the web, or going to the library, there were many accounts of who Magneto is, not what Magento looks like. Even when you managed to sneak out of your dorm in the past after curfew to look around the mansion for any pictures that the Professor might have of his former best friend, he had nothing. Out of all the questions that you had repeatedly asked Charles about, asking “Do I look like my father?” was the one you dreaded the answer for.

As if on cue, the man laying in front of you slowly stirred awake and met your gaze. “Good morning, darling.” He whispered softly and leaned in to kiss your lips. “How long have you been awake?

“Just a few minutes ago.” 

He hummed and brought your head to rest on his bare chest. “Thinking, again?

“When have I ever stopped thinking?” You chuckled against his chest and sighed in contentment. Comfortable silence filled the room as he caressed your hair with such gentleness, that a newborn baby would be jealous.

“Do I look like him?” You asked suddenly, as if your mouth had a life on its own.

He stopped caressing your hair and tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Look like who?”

“My father.”

He paused, his eyes looking over your face; from your eyes, to your nose, to your lips. “..No. You don’t look like him.” He answered honestly but bluntly, not sugarcoating his answer in any way, shape, or form. “You look much more like your mother.”

[syn0vial]

man, i continue to be blown away by the thought put into astarion's romance, even in seemingly throwaway scenes.

i just did zethino's test of love with him at the circus of the last days and there's such a stark difference between what wins you approval with him and what wins approval with the other companions.

for those who haven't played this bit, zethino's test of love involves a dryad, zethino, testing how well you know your romantic interest by asking you personal questions about their inner lives—their hopes, their fears, their likes, and dislikes. for most of your companions, this is very straightforward: when you answer a question about them correctly, you win approval points with them. when you say something untrue or insulting, you lose approval points , bc they realize that you're trolling or that you don't know them as well as they'd hoped.

unless you're romancing astarion. in which case, you have to do almost the complete opposite to win his approval.

the other characters want you to prove you know them by answering correctly. astarion wants you to prove you know him by lying—or, at least, refusing to pick the most accurate answer.

case in point: astarion does not like it if you tell the truth about his hopes and fears. like, really doesn't like it. answering honestly about his greatest fear, in particular (his fear of being enslaved again), causes you to lose a whole 4 approval points, twice as much as you lose with the other companions for outright insulting them. you can lose another one before that for answering honestly that his greatest desire is freedom. in both cases, he'll acknowledge that you're right—and then express dismay that you'd disclose that kind of information to a stranger. hell, you can figure out from the very first question that he's not comfortable taking this test with you at all; when the dryad asks what makes astarion happy, you lose approval if you say he's happy to take this test with you now.

so if astarion doesn't want you to pick the most accurate answers for him and honestly doesn't really seem to want to take this test with you at all, which answers can you pick to win approval with him?

well, whichever ones are funniest, of course! you don't win points with him for picking the deepest, truest answers, but the silly, flippant ones that make him laugh. what's astarion's greatest desire? well, me, of course! what's his greatest fear? breaking a nail, obviously. he's delighted by your refusal to take the test seriously and actually approves more of funny, light-hearted answers than badass, flattering ones.

i just think the whole sequence is such a fun and interesting exploration of his character and your relationship with him, all in a silly little side-activity where it would've been easy to just give all the characters the same win-conditions. little details like this are really the game's brightest moments, imo!