#soup bowl round two

[soupbowl2023]

Round Two

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls.

Professor!Terrence x Aaliyah

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student.

Part Two

The calming effects of the incense burning within his Acadian–style home in Baton Raq. Lauryn Hill playing from a vinyl record was enough to ease his mind after grading over thirty midterm papers. Terry shut his laptop and released a soft sigh. He reached up with his long fingers, taking off his glasses. The burning at the corners of his blue-grey eyes caused him to rub. He was exhausted and in need of a long vacation somewhere tropical after this semester ended.

He pushed away from his elegant, black oak wood desk to stand, stretching his long legs and flexing his quads. Terry wore a boxy–fit graphic T-shirt with a photo of Nina Simone printed on the front and thigh–hugging drawstring, black shorts. His feet covered in long, black Adidas socks led him towards the door to his home office. He would have stepped on the tail of his British Brown Shorthair cat if he hadn’t spotted him creeping between his legs as he walked.

“Orion, watch out…”

The cat slowly moved away, staring up at Terry with its golden eyes.

His stomach grumbled. Terry remembered that he’d had leftover red beans and rice. He walked into his spacious kitchen, opening a cabinet to grab a soup bowl and then he strolled over to his silverware drawer, grabbing a large spoon. Ex–Factor faded in the background while he scooped the last of the food into his bowl. He paused, snapping his fingers in remembrance of the honey butter cornbread he’d made to eat with it.

After warming his food, Terry didn’t bother sitting in his dining room. He leaned over the counter and tucked into his food, appreciative sounds between bites mixed with his spoon scraping the side of the bowl the only noise. His tongue slipped out to catch a few crumbs from his lips after scarfing down the last of his cornbread. Terry shook his head and rubbed his belly as he cleared his mess.

“Damn good,” He muttered while walking towards his sink.

He accepted the burn of his muscles from his morning workout while crouching down to grab some surface disinfectant from beneath his sink. That let him know he went hard in the gym. His tongue smoothed over his teeth to get rid of food while he used a Bounty paper towel to clean. His eyes flicked to the window in his kitchen when he’d heard loud voices passing by his home.

The Apple Watch on his wrist with a stainless steel band alerted Terry to a phone call. He headed back to his office and reached over his desk to grab it from the charger.

“Wassam Bitch!”

Terry released a boisterous, deep laugh. All his teeth showing.

“Cousin! You good?” Terry replied.

“Chillin’ fam. Just left Unc house…”

“He straight?”

“You know how he do. Was in the garden wit’ his woman picking tomatoes and shit. I had to break it to ‘em that he ain’t invited tonight. HE CAN’T COME!”

“Mike, don’t do Unc like that…he wanna be there to support his son.”

“No old heads, TJ. We discussed this. I don’t want him getting a heart attack seeing all that buku ass clapping.”

Terry snickered with his phone to his ear as he made his way into his living room. He wanted to break in his new furniture.

“Layla snoopin’ ‘round the house. She heard about the strippers…”

“Thought you said she was cool about it?”

“She is. But ya know…”

Terry made a face on the other end of the line. He knew how his cousin could get. Tonight is indeed about fun, but if Mike messed up, Layla wouldn’t take him back a second time. Out of all the men attending, Terry is the most levelheaded. Majority of the men in his family and Mike’s friends were a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. He already knows how tonight is gonna turn out.

“No fuckin’ up, Cousin.” Terry stated.

“Already, Marine.” Mike joked.

——

She did a slow two–step with a roll of her hips in a sinuous manner to the late, great Aaliyah – she was honored to share her name – and Tank.

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Stop by)

Come over (To see you)

Come over (Tonight?)

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Get with you?)

Come over (I just wanna)

Come over (Be with you, baby)

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Stop by)

Come over (To see you)

Come over (Tonight?)

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Get with you?)

Come over (Just wanna)

Yeah (Be with you, baby)…

Bonnet on her head, a tank top that’s way too cropped and showing off under–boob with skimpy hot pink boy shorts covered her curvy frame. Aaliyah had just finished making her bed, freshly laundered sheets feeling cozy beneath her hands as she spread out the wrinkles. The next song on her Slow Jamz playlist was Ciara–Promise. Aaliyah tapped the side of her mouth in thought while staring at the neatly stacked money on her side table. She didn’t feel like digging for her mini safe tucked in the back of her closet, but she needed to put the money somewhere safe.

She made almost three grand. Aaliyah really enjoyed herself a week ago at the Fire Station. She craved that attention and excitement. Doing content from home was great, but to show out in person? Oh…it stroked her so good. She was so damn ecstatic that she came home and rubbed one out with her fingers deep in her pussy. Making a man react the way he does to her literal being just ignited something in her.

Aaliyah placed the money in her safe and organized her closet. After that, she grabbed herself a bowl of green grapes and crawled into bed. She popped a grape into her mouth while watching re–runs of P–Valley on mute, eyes reading the subtitles. She already knew what was going on, just something to distract her. She rocked her body in bed to Donell Jones–This Luv, lip syncing and snapping her fingers.

She wondered what Professor Richmond was up to…

Aaliyah kissed her teeth at her lingering thoughts. This week was filled with tension. She walked into that classroom on Wednesday, hauling her school bag and a pep in her step. She dressed in skater jeans and a tight Ed Hardy T-shirt with a gray hoodie unzipped.

“Today class, we’ll discuss morality…”

He had a tiny sculpture of Aristotle in his hand, long, manicured fingers grasping it firm. Today, he wore a perfectly fitting, short sleeve, mock neck black shirt with charcoal grey slacks and black loafers. The glasses on his face reflected the light perfectly whenever he moved his head. It was something about his eyes today that just…drew Aaliyah in. They seemed brighter.

She propped her elbow on her desk and rested her chin in her hand. That foot started to bounce beneath her desk, and when his eyes met hers, she had to turn away to simmer down the butterflies. Something embarrassing happened in the middle of his lecture. She forgot to turn her ringer off, the lyrics to P*$$Y Fairy playing.

Don't be surprised, baby, it's just me (Just me)

Don't be surprised, boy, when I bust it wide

I hypnotize you with this pussy (Pussy)

Now you feel like you can fly—

“Sorry! Sorry…”

Aaliyah silenced her phone and with a sheepish smile she allowed her eyes to roam the class, catching on to a few snickers. She felt heat creeping over her honey skin. Aaliyah bashfully tucked hair behind her ear, and then her sultry gaze connected with Professor Richmond’s.

He had one brow quirked up and his eyes were unblinking and concentrated on her firm. He was the first to slowly pull his eyes away before clearing his throat to finish speaking. That look in his eyes…

After class, Aaliyah approached his desk to drop off an in class assignment. She left her hoodie at her desk. Terry was standing there, propping himself up against his desk with his fingertips. He allowed his eyes to scan her body. She paid attention to the way his piercing eyes fixated on the exposed skin of her midriff. A quick circular motion of his eyes on her breasts caused her to part her lips, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

“Here?” Aaliyah pointed to the pile of untidy papers.

“Yes.” Terry replied with a slower tone.

She slipped it there, patting the top of it. Terry clenched his jaw, his eyes returning to his laptop.

“Have a good day…”

He couldn’t stop himself from standing at his full height. He exhaled a long breath, his eyes trapping her.

“Yes, Ma’am. You as well.”

Aaliyah gave him one final once over, her eyes doing a double take to the veins in his arms…

Damn…

She walked away, the silence in the lecture hall unnerving. Terry crossed his arms in front of him and rocked back and forth on his heels. He lowered his head and shook it from side to side with a smirk. Aaliyah made her way out of the room, itching to look back and wave, but instead she looked back and gave him one final word.

“Sorry about my ringtone…I know it was inappropriate…”

Terry licked his lips, “Don’t even remember the lyrics.”

They chuckled, Aaliyah finally leaving the class.

——

Stickin' to the code, all these hoes for the streets

I put it in her nose, it's gon' make her pussy leak

Pussy niggas told, ain't gon' wake up out they sleep

You can't hear that switch, but you can hear them niggas scream…

That imposing beat had the house jumping off. Like That lyrics bounced off the walls, hyping up the room full of men that came out to support Mike.

Got your girl in this bitch, she twirlin' on the dick (he was once a thug, he was, he -)

(He was once a thug, he was, he -)

I got syrup in this bitch, turn up in this bitch (he was once a thug, he was, he -)

And it's 'bout the 'Ercs in this bitch, get murked in this bitch (he was once a thug, he was, he -)…

Terry wore an oversized tank top in beige with the sides cut low, giving you a peek at the muscles in his biceps and obliques. He gave himself a fresh line up and moisturized his low curls. Straight fit, light wash jeans hugged his lower half and he wore a pair of crisp, All White’s. Terry bopped his head precisely to the heavy bass, green solo cup in his hand between his lips. The gold Cuban link hanging from his neck matched the gold Cuban chain on his left wrist and the gold band of his Apple Watch on his right wrist.

The front door opened, more handsome black men pouring in and greeting everyone. Terry saluted the ones he recognized and shook hands firmly with those he didn’t. Terry knew the lyrics to Kendrick’s verse word for word. When the ‘Big Three’ line came up, everyone chimed in. Smile on his face, Terry headed towards the kitchen to fill his cup and mingle with some family he hadn’t seen in a while. He couldn’t believe his little cousins were old enough now to attend functions like this.

“This nigga freaked out already!”

One of Terry’s little cousins, Malik, who just turned 21 sucked his teeth at everyone laughing. Terry did notice the way he kept checking the door for the strippers every time it opened.

“They ain’t here yet, nigga!”

Mike entered the kitchen with enthusiasm and shades on. Terry caught the smell of weed on him when he approached his side. Terry picked up his trucker hat to clear some space from the kitchen island for more liquor bottles. A big ass bottle of Hennessy caught Terry’s eye. He was currently sipping on jungle juice.

“Got that shit that turn you into a beast, TJ. Real King Kong shit!” Mike shouted over the loud music.

“I see you came through,” Terry held the neck of the Hennessy bottle firm, veins in his arms popping out.

“We about to see TJ in rare form tonight!”

Terry shook his head at the men surrounding him all agreeing. He refused to let it get to him. He wasn’t the same tall, lanky kid from Red Stick. Wasn’t the same teenager who got picked on in the schoolyard for being too quiet or too nerdy. He was a grown ass man with intellect and vocabulary beyond the slang words and a muscle strength so powerful he could take down an entire room full of wannabe gangstas. But, he didn’t wear that on his sleeve. He remained stoic with his strong and silent presence. Tonight, however, he’d let himself enjoy what was to come. He had his money ready. He just hoped they were deserving of it.

He was a hard man to impress.

“Make yourself a stronger drink, Cousin. We got all night….”

Terry was more of a bourbon guy. But there wasn’t any around and he refused to bring his good shit for everybody to help themselves to. He poured Hennessy into his cup and took a sip. It was cool.

He sauntered towards the spread of party food they had catered. The smells made his mouth water. He grabbed himself a plate and piled fried chicken, smoked turkey greens, gator bites, mac and cheese, and whatever else he could fit. Today was his cheat day.

Terry ate his food while standing, catching bits and pieces of conversation here and there. On one end of the room, a group of men, most likely Mike’s friends, were laughing at whatever was on one of their phones. Across from him in the kitchen, there’s a debate about which they’d prefer: no ass and big titties or a big ass and no titties. Terry snorted. Childish behavior.

Tha Biz-, the Bizness

Uh, I like a long-haired, thick redbone

Open up her legs, then filet mignon that pussy

I'ma get in and on that pussy

If she let me in, I'ma own that pussy…

Terry didn’t care much for the mac and cheese. Too dry and not enough flavor. Every thing else was delicious. He tossed his plate and excused himself to the bathroom. He climbed the stairs to the guest bathroom instead of the basement because he was informed that the basement was reserved for the ladies who plan to entertain them tonight.

He relieved himself and flushed before washing his hands. He checked himself in the mirror making sure he hadn’t stained his new shirt.

“Ladies Ladies Ladies!”

Terry could overhear the commotion downstairs.

“The basement is all yours…hey, Keisha, lookin’ good…nice to meet you…don’t worry, the groom ain’t here right now he went out back…”

That sounded like Mike’s best man and bestfriend, Cliff.

“Take your time ladies…don’t rush the process…we won’t complain TRUST ME…”

Terry left the bathroom and walked down the stairs at the same moment they closed the basement door behind them. His eyes that appeared blue–green in the dim light scanned the room, taking in the eager and impatient looks on the faces of men ready to throw cash.

“Fuck you mean they gotta get ready? Type of shit is this here?” One dude complained.

“They work at Crazy Horse, Bruda, you know how them dancers are.”

“Busted and dusted,” Another replied with a drunk cackle.

Terry held up the wall, cup in hand, tripping off of the conversation.

“Kiesha thick ass can get this anytime, anywhere…but that one that walked in last? Man…”

The man that spoke, short in height with a bald fade and teeth lined with gold caught Terry’s eyes and shook his head as he blew air out his cheeks. Terry smirked into his cup.

“She the truth. I wanna see what she do…”

“She one a ‘dem pretty natural ones…rare.”

That interested Terry. He paid closer attention.

“Probably taste like sugar.”

“Im’a put my tongue in it!”

Cliff cracked the door to the basement. He stuck his head between the opening and shouted down the steps. Terry could hear him communicating with one of the dancers. He shut the door quickly and motioned for his friend to pause the music.

“I’m a grab Mike. It’s about to go down.”

He did the Birdman hand rub as he rushed away to collect the groom. The room started to flood with the others, all too anxious to get a glimpse and participate in the fun. Terry pat his back pocket, feeling the folded stack of cash he’d brought. He had more tucked away in his wallet just in case. Mike entered the room cross–faded. He moved with unsteady legs and a bottle in hand, the contents almost spilling onto the carpet.

Terry grabbed the bottle and sat it down on a table.

“AIGHT! ITS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF YA’LL READY?!!!”

Someone activated the strobe lights and the room flooded with ultraviolet light. The melanin in the room looked a deep blue beneath the black lights. Terry knocked the rest of his drink back and sat his cup down next to the Hennessy bottle Mike was holding. From the corner of his eye, he could see someone carrying a chair out from the dining room. They forced Mike to sit, Terry laughing at his cousin’s goofy smile.

Ear Drummers

Strippers

Mike WiLL Made-It

Bands a make her dance

Bands a make her dance…

The door opened and Terry locked his eyes forward, cupping his mouth and howling along with the others.

——

Aaliyah couldn’t control her indecisive habits if she tried. She’d spent majority of her day into the early afternoon cleaning and now her room looked like a disaster. It was nearing eight and she still couldn’t decide what to wear! Keisha was gonna kill her ass…

Aaliyah flipped through her clear tote filled with old outfits from her stripper days. She was about to give up and settle for a neon green fishnet set until she spotted a bright pink holster top with matching bottoms. There were hot pink fishnets with the back cut out for her ass that she could pair with it. Oh! pink pasties over the nipples would spice it up real nice. Aaliyah remembered her seven inch stiletto heels with rhinestone fringes. Perfect. She quickly grabbed it and worked as fast as she could, glancing at her phone.

So far, Keisha hadn’t called her. Aaliyah slipped off her satin, black robe and flung it over the chair situated in front of her vanity. She already applied her body oil with the aroma of fresh peaches blended perfectly with a hint of the tropics creating this rich, sweet, sultry scent. Her favorite fairy dust body powder clung to her soft skin and glittered in the light like diamonds.

Aaliyah tied the last tight bow on her bottoms before sitting to slip on her heels. She decided to go with a light beat, not wanted to wear anything too heavy and end up sweating it all off. She tapped the screen of her phone and with twenty minutes left, she swooped her edges and sprayed oil sheen over her two, long braids. Her French tip fingers smoothed down as much frizz as she could to keep it neat.

Situated in front of her body length mirror, Aaliyah admired the final look. Lastly, she tugged on a white, bodycon dress with a sway of her hips.

Buzz Buzz…Buzz Buzz…

“Hello?”

“I’m outside. Diamond and Precious is in the back. You ready?”

“Yeah,” Aaliyah grabbed a pair of black, thong flip flops, “heading out now.”

She ended the call and with one final sweep of her room, she turned off the lights and headed straight for the door. Stanley cup in the crease of her arm, she locked her front door. Aaliyah angled her body, descending the stairs carefully. She didn’t want a repeat of what happened a year ago. She sprained her ankle so bad she couldn’t dance for two months.

Kiesha rolled the window down to her Hellcat, smoke billowing out. Aaliyah rolled her eyes. She did not want weed smell lingering on her. Keisha leaned over and opened the door since Aaliyah’s hands were full. She climbed in and shut the door, Keisha not waiting a moment longer before hitting the gas hard. Aaliyah looked over at Keisha with a mug on her face while her friend laughed.

She noticed that she was the only one ready. Aaliyah looked back at Diamond and Precious. Redbone Diamond had her bubble gum pink frontal pinned up while holding a Hello Kitty compact mirror as steady as she could, drawing on her thin eyebrows. She had on a matching camouflage, short set. Aaliyah recognized that set from Fashion Nova. Her eyes moved towards Precious. Precious was a tiny girl. Petite and spunky. She had a buz cut dyed blonde. She was wearing her outfit beneath a tube dress while puffing on a fat blunt. Her eyes squinted at Aaliyah before giving her a toothy grin filled with braces.

“How ya’ll been?” Aaliyah asked.

“Good!” Diamond replied.

“Straight! How ‘bout you?” Precious said.

“Been good. Dealing wit’ school. Good to see ya’ll. Ready for tonight?”

“Can’t wait!”

“Turnt!” Diamond shouted before snapping her mirror shut, “Pass that here…”

Aaliyah relaxed into her seat.

“Girl, you told me to be ready by eight. Why the fuck you ain’t dressed?”

Keisha reached back, accepting the blunt while one–hand whipping the car.

“Cliffy told me we could use the basement if we needed to. I brought all the goods just in case. The coochie spray for Diamond—”

“BITCH don’t get hurt!”

Aaliyah chuckled.

“You got your LED plug?” Keisha asked Aaliyah excitedly.

Aaliyah dragged her upper teeth over her bottom lip with a mischievous smile.

“Nasty bitch….lemme see it.”

Aaliyah leaned her body against the door so her meaty buns could face Keisha. She lifted her white bodycon dress over her cakes and with one hand, she spread one hefty cheek. There, buried in her ass, was the LED plug. It lit up like a pair of sketchers. Keisha giggled.

“Girrrrrlllllllllll I told Cliff about you…”

Aaliyah fixed herself and straightened up in her seat.

“Keisha, don’t set me up with no nigga. No more of that shit.” Aaliyah retorted.

“I didn’t set you up. He remembers you from Crazy Horse. When he used to show up on Tuesdays…”

“Keish, not that nigga…he ugly and his breath stank. You know exactly what to do to piss me off!”

Diamond and Precious cackled in the back seat.

“His dick big.” Keisha replied as if that would change Aaliyah’s mind.

“Bitch, big dick, little dick, a dick made out of the purest gold if phat ma don’t get wet and this heart don’t skip a beat I’m not finna give you my time. That shit is crazy…”

“You shake ass for an ugly nigga though.” Keisha argued back.

“THEY PAYIN’ ME! Girl…” Aaliyah kissed her teeth, fixing her lash extensions because the windows are rolled down, “How far out?”

“Ten minutes.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way while blasting a bounce mix. Keisha’s Hellcat slowed to a stop in front of a cute little house with a lengthy drive way. Kiesha parked on the grass and killed the ignition. She gave the blunt one final hit before tossing it out the window. The ladies exited the car and before the went inside, Keisha had an idea for them to take some pics and video before heading in. Aaliyah acted as photographer and videographer while Diamond, Precious and Keisha did their thing.

When they finished, Keisha begged Aaliyah to do a video. Aaliyah scoped out the area and yanked her dress off, darting to stand next to a white SUV parked haphazardly on the front lawn. Keisha moved her phone in different angles, Aaliyah staring back at her with a hand on the car and her ass moving like a tidal wave.

“Damn, mama…show out!”

Diamond and Precious clapped their hands in time to Aaliyah’s twerking.

“Cool it nah,” Aaliyah shooed them off before putting her dress back on, “You see that?”

The other ladies followed her gaze through the windows of the home. They all gawked at the amount of men throughout that house.

“Dayummmmm…we leaving chubby tonight. Money, money, money!” Diamond said.

This was Aaliyah’s vibe. Although she had a ball at the fire station, nothing compared to a room full of black men. She grinned beautifully and squealed. They grabbed their things and Aaliyah was last to trail behind because she forgot her thong flip flops. Keisha knocked on the door boldly and it opened two seconds later.

It was Cliff.

He hugged Keisha and kissed her cheek. Cliff did the same greeting for Diamond and Precious. However. He held his hand out for Aaliyah. Her sultry eyes flicked to Keisha then back at Cliff. She accepted his hand and he guided her inside softly, his eyes scanning her body.

“Liyah Alllure…mmm, mmm, mmm…”

“Hey you,” Aaliyah titled her head in greeting with a sweet smile.

“Still just as gorgeous…happy you could join us tonight.”

“Happy to be here…”

“Ladies Ladies Ladies!”

Some dude with a skinny frame and a gold grill greeted them. They all said hello, ignoring the men in the room eye–fucking them. Aaliyah could suffocate from their stares alone.

“The basement is all yours…hey, Keisha, lookin’ good…nice to meet you…don’t worry, the groom ain’t here right now he went out back…Take your time ladies…don’t rush the process…we won’t complain TRUST ME…”

Aaliyah remained close behind Precious as they disappeared into the basement. The door shut behind her with a soft click. They entered the finished basement and Aaliyah excused herself to the rest room. She’d been drinking water all day and needed to go before doing a bunch of dancing. Keisha got dressed while Precious and Diamond helped each other out on jewelry. Aaliyah exited the bathroom in just her pink, outfit with rhinestones to match her heels.

“How we goin’ in? One by one or?” Diamond questioned.

She was dressed in neon green. A full body fishnet outfit with black stilettos. Aaliyah was happy she decided on the ensemble she had on.

“One by one. I’m supposed to give the lap dance. After that, ya’ll come out. Simple.” Keisha said.

The intro to Bandz A Make Her Dance started playing.

“That’s me!” Keisha stood up. She was wearing a white cowgirl hat with a fringe bikini set to match and white stilettos. She reminded Aaliyah of Megan The Stallion with her blue hair cascading down her back.

Keisha climbed the stairs and when the door opened, howling and yelling pierced her ears. The other three ladies shared a look with each other and laughed.

“I’m a need some liquor.” Aaliyah said.

——

Terry’s bottom lip sat between his teeth to contain his laughter.

When the first girl entered, going by the name of Keisha, he loved her vibrant personality and spit fire attitude. Keisha had the men in that room foaming at the mouth. She sashayed over to Mike with that brazen attitude and revealing body. Ain’t no way in hell she could fit that white bikini set and that was the point. Terry’s brows rose in surprise at Keisha straddling Mike. Her bountiful curves almost swallowed him while he was in that chair. Big ol’ ass and fat titties. That country thick you got lost in.

Terry grunted when she turned and made that big, fucking ass clap in Mike’s face. His thick brows knitted together and he shared a look with a friend before chuckling. Mike didn’t know what do to. He kept his hands to his sides, grasping the back legs of the chair he was stuck in.

“All that ass, Mike!”

“You better get it in while you can!”

“Suffocate that nigga, Keisha!”

“You good down there groom?” Keisha teased.

Money flew in the air when she plucked her top off. When them titties dropped, Terry’s large hand stuffed into his back pocket. He didn’t make it rain yet, he was waiting for Keisha to do something special. The body was crazy, but where’s the tricks?

“Throw that shit, TJ.” His friend nudged him with his elbow.

Terry ignored him.

Keisha stood up and went down to the floor in front of Mike in a split. She made those twin globes dribble and that was good enough to earn some of his cash. Terry leaned over the back of Mike’s chair and flicked two Benjamin’s on her. He watched it connect with that ass before falling to the floor. Keisha arched forward and spread her cheeks before going into a head stand.

She shook her legs and clicked her heels before dropping into another split.

“THERE YOU GO!”

“Baby going stupid…”

“Buku ass…”

Terry remained close. Keisha’s eyes locked onto him and it was enough to bring her to her feet. Terry held her steady gaze, a smirk teasing his thick lips.

“You a pretty nigga, ain’t you?” Keisha walked up on him with her hands on her hips, “What’s your name?!”

“TJ.” Terry replied.

Keisha pushed her breasts up with her fists in his face.

“Like what you see with those green eyes. A pretty boi like you ain’t used to a woman like me, huh?”

Terry’s tongue grazed his bottom lip and he locked on to the dizzying motion of her fat tits. Bringing his eyes back on her, he displayed a bill and sat it in the crease. Keisha leaned forward and grabbed the money with her teeth.

“Keep impressin’ me and there’s more for you…”

Keisha had to blink out of a trance. Terry had this unspoken power that rendered her speechless. To top it all off, that deep baritone shot straight to her clit.

“Come get this money, baby!”

Keisha pulled herself away from Terry, but not before dragging a hand down his chest. The look in her hazel eyes told him she wanted to do more than give him a lap dance.

She wanted to spin on that dick.

The door pushed open and the next girl to enter had pink hair. She was a cutie.

“I’m Diamond…”

When she turned, Terry looked away.

A BBL. A bad one at that.

He folded his money back up and made his way to where he stood earlier. The other men in the room were probably so used to seeing it that it didn’t even phase them. Terry watched Diamond do her thing. She hit the splits, shook that ass as best she could, but it was boring. Terry filled his cup and just vibed, laughing at the way some of the men in the room went bonkers over her. Even Mike was stuck. Mouth wide and eyes equally wide.

Next came a tiny girl that showed off acrobatic skills and flexibility. Terry had his money out again and he made it rain on her. She made that little booty shake. Keisha was making her way around, grinding and talking shit. Diamond allowed some of the men to grab ass. The three women scoped out Terry and winked at him. He played nice with Diamond and slipped her a crisp bill. With the tiny one named Precious, he tipped more.

“Where’s Liyah?!”

Cliff scanned the room. Another girl?

“There’s more?! Ahhh shit…”

——

Aaliyah watched from the bottom of the stairs as Precious made her entrance. She wrung her hands and exhaled a sigh. She didn’t know what to expect past those doors. Aaliyah applied more gloss and with a shaky hand, she grasped the railing and climbed. They kept the light off to avoid being spotted right away. Aaliyah stared through the crack of the door at Precious working the room.

So many…so many men.

The floor was covered with money.

She allowed her eyes to scan, taking everything in. As her eyes swept past the groom in his chair, she couldn’t see the entire room because of the door, but the sound of Cliff’s voice let her know it was time.

“Where’s Liyah?!”

“Put on her old intro!”

That was Keisha’s voice.

Aaliyah felt her nerves settle. The blacklights and the song reminded her of Crazy Horse. This was her walk out song….

Waka Flocka Ft. Roscoe Dash–No Handz Instrumental.

With one hand Aaliyah pushed open that door and stepped one shaky leg out past the darkness. The ultraviolet light caused her skin to twinkle and the blue hue made the pink she wore pop. She fully came into view, her tongue curled up over her top teeth to tease and those ‘come fuck me eyes’ staring into the faces of horny men with the money she wanted.

She allowed her body to rock to the beat. Aaliyah turned her back on everyone, brought her hands up, and gave them a thunderous applause with that beautiful ass before arching her back. She twerked those honey buns and looked back at it before a lusty smile appeared on her lips. Both hands twirled her braids while she rocked those hips.

Back. Forth. Back. Forth.

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce

*clap clap clap*

Nobody wasted time throwing money. She could work that entire room on her own. Aaliyah got down on her hands and knees, crawling like a jungle cat before turning to show off that LED plug while twerking.

“You see that shit?!”

“Hot damn!”

“Fuck, she’s nice.”

“C’mere pretty lady…”

“Freaky girl!”

That song…she owned it.

She staked her claim on it.

She spread those legs on her back and gyrated, thighs separated and the barely there crotch of her pink bikini covering her meaty pussy lips. She rubbed the money that rained down on her into her pussy and around her breasts. They…were…obsessed.

The way she looked at you, it made you feel like the only man in the world worthy of her attention.

How nasty she talked…

“I better see some thick bulges tonight, boys…”

On her feet, Aaliyah strutted dangerously slow, further into the crowd of men. As her eyes swept, she came across a pair of blue eyes that reminded her of a bottle of Hypnotiq beneath the blacklights. Too familiar…

Holy FUCKING shit…

She tried to mask her surprise but his was so boldly present.

The Professor.

His jaw dropped, eyes widening in disbelief as if a sudden jolt of electricity had coursed through his veins leaving him momentarily stunned. To others, it could seem as if Terry was so overwhelmed with how motherfucking fine Aaliyah is that he couldn’t even function. She knew the real reason. She simmered down her astonishment as best as she could and turning away, focusing on a cute guy with thick locs to his shoulders.

Her heart raced. Panic consumed her.

She had no time to panic.

“Prettiest thang in Louisiana…”

Aaliyah cupped her breasts covered in nipple tape and licked her lips. She could feel Terry’s gaze burning a hole into the side of her face. She was nervous. Oh so nervous. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Everybody was too drunk or too hype to take notice.

all except Professor Richmond. He could see right through her.

What the fuck was he doing here of all places?!

She blended in with her girls and tried her best to shield herself from Terry’s view.

That intensity in his eyes this time around left her shaken up.

Aaliyah pushed herself to perform. The space was too cramped. They scattered to watch her hit a clean split and when she glanced over her shoulder, Terry was right there. Like he appeared out of thin air.

He was standing above her. Towering over her. She had no choice but to look up.

Aaliyah couldn’t hide. She couldn’t if she tried.

“Back up, TJ. I’m tryna see all that…”

He was shoved to the side and Aaliyah felt the rain of money on her while she avoided Terry’s hard eyes zeroed in on her ass. He was so stuck.

Her breath hitched at the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to ravage her.

Her eyes glided down his frame and she loved the way he dressed. He looked delectable.

“Arch that back, bitch…”

“Yeahhhh…”

Aaliyah grabbed her ankles and made each cheek dance on its own. The heavy bass and quick melody of the bounce song compelled her to shake some ass.

The sound of her pulse in her ears drowned out the music. She locked eyes with him again and for once she grew timid. His eyes drank her in and when she lifted one leg up to pop that ass he chewed on that lip and tilted his head to see how that pussy looked from that angle.

You like what you see, huh?

“You got skills baby…Think you can show me more?”

Terry cut his eyes at the men circling Aaliyah.

Things were turning up like a raging storm.

“Pull that pussy part…”

They wanted to see her pussy. Aaliyah giggled and trailed a finger between her legs before rubbing it against one of their noses. They enjoyed that way too much. He tried to suck on that finger but Terry yoked him up by the wrist. The dread head looked at Terry like he was asking for a death wish.

“We don’t touch unless they say so…remember the rules.”

“Let go, nigga. I don’t need you tellin’ me what the fuck to do…”

“Woah, woah, woah…”

Aaliyah used that opportunity to disappear. A prickling sensation shot up her spine. She slipped down into the basement and hid herself within the darkness.

She needed a second.

“Get it together, Liyah…”

Aaliyah picked up a shorty bottle of Paul Masson Peach and took a long swig. She recapped the drink and scrunched her face from the burn. Aaliyah shook out her hands to stop them from trembling. How was she going to show her face in class on Wednesday?

All she would be able to think about was the shock on his face. There was no turning back. Aaliyah drank some more. She needed the liquor to get her through the rest of the night. The door to the basement opened and Keisha appeared. She had a look of concern on her face.

“Li–Li. You okay?”

“I’m fine, Keisha. Go back up. I was just feeling a little queasy that’s all.”

“Some shit was about to pop off. Did they touch you without your consent?”

“It’s cool. I’ll be up…”

“Don’t lie to me Li–Li…”

Aaliyah gave Keisha a reassuring smile.

“No reason to lie, mamas. I’m feeling better,” Aaliyah pushed herself up, “C’mon…”

——

Frozen.

When that door pushed open and she crept out like a sex goddess, he almost spilled his cognac.

Aaliyah?

The small hairs across his arms stood on end. Desire rushed in the moment the initial shock faded.

*clap clap clap*

Gahdamn…

He knew it. He fucking knew it.

That body outta be in a museum. This fine ass woman held a confidence so powerful he could bend at her will.

Terry Richmond sucked in a breath when her eyes connected with his.

He saw the power drain from her like Superman to Kryptonite. Terry’s chest grew tight. She drew in closer, his mouth unhinged. The glitter on her skin and the smell of her sweet fragrance made the big boy between his legs react.

Down boy…

He fought the urge to palm his bulge because it was growing out of his control. He didn’t know where to look first. Those titties sat up round and perfect. That ass was so fat he wanted to sink his teeth in it. Leave his imprint on that thick fucking shit. His eyes still lit up like Miracle on 34th Street from the glow emitting from that asshole.

Freak nasty.

He was speechless. His star pupil is a Stripper.

The biggest plot twist.

Terry wanted her even more. He wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay and she didn’t need to feel embarrassed or afraid. He could sense she was trying to avoid him as she moved around the room.

Terry needed her to know that he liked what he saw.

They weren’t in his classroom. It was okay to free her inhibitions and show him what Liyah Allure is all about. He found her popping ass and talking shit.

“Tip me, daddy…”

“You want it?”

“Don’t just stare at me. Spoil me…”

Honeyed voice as smooth as silk. Terry drew in closer and allowed himself to be consumed by her.

The glitter on her skin looked edible and if he could lick every single fleck off with his tongue he would.

The dip in her spine leading down to a full ass with hips and thighs to match told him she could take it deep and it would be a warm, tight, wet paradise.

He did say he wanted to escape somewhere tropical…

Those two braids would be anchored around his hands while he drilled deep with every goddamn stroke of his fat dick.

Unh…Unh…Unh…

Make her weep on his dick.

Professor…Professor…Don’t stop…

There she was.

Those eyes focused on him again and he saw the hint of shyness.

“I wanna pull that pussy part…”

Something primal and predatory sparked within him. Aaliyah stroked her lower lips with a single finger and shoved that finger against Darrell’s nose.

Darrell tried to take it too far.

Terry was quicker.

He wrapped his large hand around Darrell’s wrist with a vice grip similar to a boa constrictor. He would knock the daylights outta Darrell and leave him slumped over if he so much as put that finger in his mouth.

Darrell was stunned by Terry’s strength and the fact that he couldn’t break free. Weak ass nigga…

She disappeared.

Mike came over to settle down the growing altercation and with a pat on Terry’s back, he walked away in search of Aaliyah. She was nowhere in sight.

Terry waited for about ten minutes and then she resurfaced from the basement with Keisha. She probably needed a moment to gather her thoughts and energy. His presence stumped her.

Aaliyah scanned the room until she found Terry.

She got down on her hands and knees and popped ass in a split. Nobody else in that room mattered. She locked in on him from across the room. Terry sipped his drink and watched her.

“Who wants a private show?!”

Keisha pointed at Terry.

He gave a quick nod of his head. Keisha was about to be let down. He ain’t want nobody but Aaliyah. She was getting the rest of his money tonight. She deserves it and so much more. And when Terry gets his hands on her…

“I’ll take one. But I want her.”

Aaliyah saw the cash in his hand and smiled.

“Only if she ain’t scared.”

Aaliyah couldn’t believe he just said that.

“I get the impression she likes to tease…”

Aaliyah walked up to Terry with a seductive look in her eyes. He held onto her gaze with his money on display.

“Your call, beautiful.”

Aaliyah stared at him for another moment before taking him by the hand and down into the basement.

——

Terry allowed her to guide him. They headed towards the sofas, silence hanging between them. Aaliyah turned fully to face him before Terry took a seat. Without taking his eyes off of her, he placed his cup on the table and settled back into the cushion. Terry spread his thighs and with one hand over the top of the couch, the other smoothed down his left thigh invitingly. Aaliyah dropped her eyes to his lap and with a faint smile, she took a seat where his hand once was.

Aaliyah watched him spread his money out across his other thigh. She parted her glossy lips a fraction, eyeing nothing but one hundred dollar bills. Her eyes lit up. Terry looked up at her with low, lust filled eyes and a sly smirk. He removed his glasses with one hand and folded it against his chest before sitting it on the table, all while staring at her.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

“…I don’t know what to say…”

Aaliyah’s eyelashes fluttered as she blinked away from him. Terry used his thumb to gently pull her attention back towards him.

“I should be embarrassed right now…”

Terry was trying to keep his composure but her breasts in his face was melting his cool exterior.

“Aaliyah…I don’t want you to feel embarrassed. I’m not judging you…”

She giggled nervously, “maybe not…but this was so unexpected, ya know?”

“Very. How long have you been doing this?”

Aaliyah stared heavenward shyly while deep in thought. He liked seeing her like this. It was another side to her he enjoyed.

“Well…this in particular…it’s my second time. Stripping…I did it for about five years before I quit Crazy Horse a year ago…now I just film content and work Verizon part time.”

Her eyes connected with his again.

“So…what do ya want me to do? A lap dance? What?”

Terry trailed his eyes down her body.

“Do whatever makes you feel comfortable…”

Terry’s hand molded into her back. Aaliyah shivered. The feeling of his hand on her skin was exhilarating.

She stood, facing Terry. He placed his money beside him, and his hands out of the way. Aaliyah straddled him, bracing herself on his shoulders. She looked down at him with a slow blink and the erotic smile she gave him forced his hands into fists.

“Have you ever had a lap dance before, Professor?”

“…Call me Terrence.”

“…Terrence…”

“Once. It wasn’t memorable.” Terry responded with a hushed tone.

He reclined his head back slightly and stared up into her eyes with practiced restraint.

Aaliyah gave him a mean whine over his crotch. Her chest would graze his goatee ever so slightly. He had to stop his tongue from poking out to drag between those titties.

“Ooh, that’s too bad…is this okay?”

That melodic voice…

“You’re doin’ just fine, Miss Aaliyah.”

Terry flexed his fingers. Aaliyah looked down at his hands.

“Can I admit something?” Aaliyah asked with a sultry smile.

“What’s that?”

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled softly. She blinked away briefly before her eyes met his again.

“What?” Terry pushed.

“I think about you every day…”

“Enough to stick around after class?”

Aaliyah’s bottom lip sat between her teeth. Terry smiled.

“Why did you turn me down?” He questioned.

Aaliyah dragged her hands down his chest and stilled her hips. Terrence rested his hands on the sides of her thighs. He couldn’t resist. Aaliyah didn’t protest.

The feel of her against his hands. The heft of her on him. The images he pictured in his mind…

“I’m not an easy girl, Terrence. You gotta work harder for me. I wanted you to…”

“Chase you.” Terry concluded with an elevated brow.

“May seem silly but…it turns me on.”

“I wonder what else turns you on…”

“That brain of yours,” Aaliyah trailed her fingers through his short, soft curls, “Your passion…expressive hands…your voice…those eyes…”

Terry licked his lips, “I would have chased you and went along with your lil’ game. If that means I get to play with you in the end…”

His eyes dropped to her lips.

“You do this…tongue bite thing…I like that…” Terry said.

“What else you like?” Aaliyah asked softly, doing exactly what Terry liked. Displaying the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Moving it back and forth…

“Everything about you…you’re so damn sexy…the way you look at me just…Aaliyah, you’re aware of your beauty. That confidence lights a fire under me, baby…”

“I’m baby?”

“Mhm, the prettiest baby…”

Aaliyah played with his Cuban link. Terry’s right thumb stroked the beauty mark below her lip.

Terry groped her thigh with his free hand and glided it up to her waist. He used his thumb to trace circles into her soft skin.

“I don’t like how you put your finger on Darrell’s nose.”

“You wish it were you? Darrell didn’t get a lap dance…”

Aaliyah lifted from his lap and turned so that she was grinding against his tent with enough pressure to rub her pussy over it. The hard bulge against her fat, lower lips caused her to moan.

Terry threw money over her, his ears enjoying the way her moans sounded so angelic despite her naughty actions.

After all, she is The Dark Angel.

“Aaliyah…”

That signature look back would have had him busting a fat ass nut in his jeans.

The way she moved her hips on him.

“I want you so fuckin’ bad…”

“I know.”

She smiled.

Aaliyah stood from his lap and Terry groaned deep.

“Times up.”

He glared at her with lust and frustration. Aaliyah leaned over him with her hands on the back of the couch. Their eyes connected and her glossy lips feathered over his.

“Until next time…I think I’m free for that lunch on Wednesday…”

She brought her lips to his cheek and with her jeweled tongue, Aaliyah dragged it over his ear tantalizingly slow. She pushed away from him and Terry stood from the couch. He fixed his attire while Aaliyah stared up at him with faux innocence and her hands crossed behind her back. She swayed back and forth, parting her lips to rest her tongue in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s a date.”

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

so this is my first ever request, uhm, if your requests are closed, js ignore this! so id like to request a fanfic of zhongli (well obvi) with a pregnant fem reader whos about to give birth!!

Domestic Zhongli is always such a treat to write. Hopefully you enjoy this little fic!

Zhongli x Pregnant Reader

Ever since you first started seeing Zhongli, you were already aware that he was an attentive and devoted lover. The way he listens to you ramble about your day to day activities, an ever-present glimmer of adoration in his eyes, makes you feel like everything you say, feel, and think holds so much weight in his heart. He loves you so much, his beautiful, wonderful, and precious wife. And you, what did you ever do to deserve the sweetest man on Teyvat?

"Thank you, honey." You sigh as you take the cup of water from his outstretched hand. His other hand continued to rub your back as you rinsed your mouth over the toilet bowl.

Zhongli got down on his knee as you sat down on the couch, lifting your dress to reveal your round belly, swollen with his future daughter. He pressed a kiss to the bump, stroking it as he would your cheeks.

"She's almost here. I can hardly believe it." He says fondly, smiling up at you.

You nod, an excited smile on your lips despite the morning sickness the little brat just put you through. Some days, you truly felt like a pile of turd, but for the past eight months, your sweet husband had been your biggest blessing. He couldn't shield you from or help you shoulder the burdens of pregnancy like he could other things, but his constant presence gave you immense comfort.

Zhongli had never been a father before, despite his long life. He had never been a husband either, but you could not ask for anyone more dedicated. His vast knowledge on various subjects from medicine to cooking all seemed to come in handy as well.

One day, you found him in the kitchen making you a pot of, you could hardly believe it, fish head soup. Your husband loathed seafood  For as long as you had known him, he couldn't stand the stench or the slimy texture of it at all.

"Fish head soup is high in nutrients that both you and our little one needs. My discomfort is a small price to pay." He chuckles, but the constant furrow in his brow told you how unbearable the preparation had been for him.

You could only run up to him and smother his face in kisses.

"Now now... Tears are a bit much for a pot of soup, don't you think?" He cooed, palms cupping your face and wiping away the unexpected leakage.

"I can't help it. Everything makes me cry right now." You defended your emotional outburst. Fish soup never smelled so good before.

Aside from fish head soup and ginger pig feet stew, Liyue held many traditions and customs also when it comes to pregnancy. For one, he could no longer go into the funeral parlor for work since being around coffins was strictly forbidden. Hutao gave him permission to stay at home and take care of you. At first, you were ecstatic. That was, until you realized your husband saw it as his personal mission to prevent you from doing anything strenuous at all. He would not let you touch the stove, the dishes, or the broom.

"You're too strict." You pouted after Zhongli snatched the rag from your hand. He had caught you cleaning the toilet after you puked in it again.

"Dear, please go get some rest." He ignored your complaints. "You agreed to let me take care of you. We can go on a stroll later if you need some exercise."

"Fine!" You begrudgingly exited the bathroom.

Your husband did not take things lightly, especially not when it comes to things you agreed to.

The stroll was short since you couldn't handle walking for too long. The whole way, you could feel his steady hand at your back. Eventually, the two of you rested on a bench, watching the sun set.

"She's kicking me again!" You told Zhongli with a pout.

He leaned over your bump, slipping a hand underneath your dress to feel the warmth of your skin and the subtle movement underneath it. A faint smile spread over his lips. "Sweetheart, try not to torment your mother too much. She has had a long day."

"I can't wait for her to come out. She really has too much energy." You laughed. "She's going to be a handful. I just know it."

"She takes after you, my dear." Zhongli hums, his deep voice vibrating against your stomach.

You gawked at his accusation. "And you've never had an unruly phase?"

"Your mother is perfect the way she is, as are you. Unruliness and all." He chuckled.

As if in response to his words, the baby pushed against his hand. You met his eyes, excitement and surprise brimming in them. Zhongli's voice had a distinct magnetism to it. Imagine being confined in a dark and wet place and then hearing a deep, soothing voice like his. You'd try to get closer too.

"She likes you so much already." You said, covering Zhongli's hands with your own. "I have a feeling she's going to recognize you as soon as she comes out."

When you got home, your legs were cramping up again. Zhongli offered to give you a massage, which you happily accepted.

"Our daughter will surely be as beautiful as her mother." He muses, hands gently kneading their way down your thighs. Your tense muscles relax under his ministrations.

"I hope she has your eyes. They're the most striking thing about you." You add.

He chuckles. "Is that so?"

"Well, maybe something else of yours left a deeper impression..." You giggled as Zhongli drapes himself carefully over your body, planting a soft kiss against your forehead.

Zhongli's hands feather over your skin, dipping into your valleys and gliding over your hills. His fingers untie the straps that hold your nightgown togther. Your bump had gotten a lot larger over the months and each time he unclothes you, he can't help but stare in awe.

Inside of you was his daughter, steadily growing every single day. Zhongli's soft gaze swept up your swollen body, as vulnerable and alluring as the first time he made love to you, so incredibly beautiful and perfect in his eyes. He saw not just the present you lying underneath him, but all of you.

Every memory of you from the moment he met you blended together in his unwavering gaze. He imagined you in an apron, shouting across the kitchen at your daughter. After dinner, the three of you would take evening strolls together, hand in hand. He would read the both of you to sleep every night.

An amused smile spread over your lips as you pulled your dazed husband in for a kiss.

"Am I that captivating?"

"More than you will ever know, my dearest." He replied, nuzzling against your neck. "You ought to be used to this by now."

"Never. You can always love me more." You dared him.

Zhongli chuckled. "Indeed I can."

[kayewrite]

...So much I think it must be

True love

(part 2 of "At the same time, I wanna hug you..")

seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count:6.8k

summary; It’s strange to think that someone you once couldn’t stand is now the person you can’t live without. You both used to scoff at the idea of fate, but now? You’re not so sure anymore.

an: oh please i love this soo much. i hope you also do! (i know i said it will only short but...) Can be read as stand alone, but it was better if you read the first one.

listen to True Love by Pink

You and Seungmin have been together for two years now. It’s funny how things turned out. Everyone around you always says the same thing: “You two are perfect for each other.” It’s almost cliché, but they’re not wrong. Despite the ups and downs, your bond has only grown stronger over time.

At first glance, no one would have guessed you'd end up together. You and Seungmin were like fire and ice. You’d argue about the smallest things—who was better at math, who had the best grades, or even who would finish their lunch first. You were competitive to a fault, constantly trying to outshine each other during school days.

But somewhere between the sarcastic jabs and friendly competition, something changed. The bickering turned playful. The challenges became a way to spend more time together. Before you knew it, he wasn’t just the guy you argued with—he became the one person who truly understood you.

You went from rivals, to best friends, to… well, something much more. Seungmin is still that competitive guy who drives you crazy, but now he’s also the one who makes your heart race with just a smile.

You often joke that you and Seungmin are like a cat and a dog—always at each other’s throats, only to end up tangled together in some ridiculous hug moments later.

One time, after a particularly heated argument about who was better at a silly arcade game, you kicked him in the leg under the table. He dramatically doubled over as if you’d really hurt him, only to have you clinging to his leg five minutes later, laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

Those playful moments make your relationship special. You pinch his arms, but later, those same arms become your pillow when you sleep. You pretend to hate his antics, but deep down, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In the quieter moments, when the laughter fades and it’s just the two of you, you find comfort in how well you understand each other. On the vulnerable days, when life feels overwhelming, Seungmin is there, and it’s like you’re soulmates—soup mates, as you two love to joke, because he once insisted that the way you fit together is as comforting as a warm bowl of soup.

It’s strange to think that someone you once couldn’t stand is now the person you can’t live without. You both used to scoff at the idea of fate, but now? You’re not so sure anymore.

That evening, you find yourselves lounging on the couch, both of you too tired to do much of anything. The day had been long—work, school, life—but with Seungmin next to you, everything felt a little lighter.

A few rounds in playing your favorite game, you’re locked in an intense game. Seungmin is winning, and you can feel your frustration rising. You glance down at your cards, trying to hide your devious smile.

“Pick four,” Seungmin says with a laugh, tossing down the card as if he’s already won.

You frown, glaring at the pile of cards you’re supposed to pick up. “You think you’ve got me, huh?” you say, squinting at him.

He leans back, hands behind his head. “I know I do.”

You look at your hand and, with a grin, pull out the ultimate weapon. “Pick eight!”

His smirk falters. He glances at the new card on the pile and then back at you. “What?”

“You heard me,” you say triumphantly. “Pick. Eight.”

Seungmin frowns, staring at his hand. “I won’t... because you’re about to pick twelve!” He grins, tossing down another card.

Your jaw drops, and you stare at the card pile in disbelief. “No way!” you shout, quickly playing your reverse card. “Ha!”

“I anticipated that,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. He pulls out another reverse card, laying it down with a calm smirk.

“What?! No!” you shout, your voice rising. “That’s not fair!”

“Go ahead,” Seungmin says, still grinning. “Pick your cards.”

You glare at the stack of cards you’re about to draw. “Oh no,” you mutter dramatically, placing a yellow skip card. “I’m not losing this time!”

He looks down at the skip card and grins wider. “You sure about that?”

You squint at him. “Don’t tell me…”

Seungmin stands up, towering over the table, and slaps down his own skip card. “UNO!”, he shouts victoriously, laughing as he pumps his fist in the air.

You stare at him, completely stunned. And then... you start to cry. Literally cry.

Seungmin’s laughter dies down as he realizes what’s happening. “Wait—are you crying?” he asks, rushing over to you, his hands gently holding your face.

You sniff dramatically. “You always win,” you say in a pitiful voice, though deep down, you know you’re just being overly dramatic for the cuddles.

He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “Okay, okay. You win,” he whispers into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You win. No more Uno.”

You sniff again, leaning into his warmth. “You better let me win next time,” you mumble, already feeling better as he wraps his arms tighter around you.

He laughs softly. “Whatever you say.”

Seungmin had always been your greatest inspiration, just as you were his. Whenever life got tough, he was the one who motivated you to keep pushing forward. You leaned on each other, growing stronger together, especially after high school when you both embarked on your college journeys. Seungmin was diving into music, while you pursued your passion for acting. Balancing the pressures of school and life was a challenge, but with him by your side, every obstacle felt a little less daunting.

You shared a small, cozy apartment—a space you quickly transformed into a home filled with love, laughter, and countless memories. It was perfect in its imperfections, a reflection of your unique bond.

One evening, after a long day of classes, Seungmin had cooked a delicious dinner. You collapsed on the couch, savoring the scent wafting from the kitchen.

“I cooked, so you’re on dish duty tonight!” you declared, a playful smirk on your face.

“Every time I cook, I end up washing the dishes too!” he replied, feigning exasperation.

You crossed your arms dramatically. “Then we’re watching Despicable Me later!”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Fine, I’ll wash. But we’re watching Pitch Perfect first.”

“Agh, not again! We just watched it last week!”

“Okay, how about we wash the dishes together, and then we can watch Alvin and the Chipmunks?” he offered, his smile returning. That was your shared favorite, after all.

“Deal!” you said, excitement bubbling in your chest.

Washing the dishes turned into a delightful mess. Seungmin started the playful chaos by gently tapping a bubble onto your nose. You laughed, unable to resist the urge to retaliate.

“Two can play this game!” You dipped your hands into the soapy water and smeared bubbles onto his face, pretending it was a beard. “Look at you, Mr. Clean!”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Very funny! But I think I’ve seen better beards in my life!”

As you both continued the playful antics, he teased you by lathering bubbles all over your face. You gasped, trying to chase him down when he darted away.

“Catch me if you can!” he called, his laughter echoing through the kitchen.

You chased him around the small apartment, and just when you thought you had him cornered, he turned and caught you in his arms, both of you still giggling like children.

“Alright, alright,” he said, breathless. “Now that we’ve completed our bubble fight, how about we take a shower before movie night?”

“Only if you promise not to hog the hot water!” you teased.

“Deal!” he replied with a wink.

After a shared shower filled with laughter and splashes, you both dried off and prepared for your movie night. As Pitch Perfect started playing, you settled into the couch, arms wrapped around each other, a bowl of popcorn sits between you, half-empty from the endless snacking. The familiar sound of his laughter fills the room as he playfully pokes you in the ribs, trying to steal the last handful of popcorn.

“Hey! No fair! I’m the one who made this, remember?” you protest, swatting his hand away with a giggle.

“Please, you just popped the bag. I did all the hard work by sitting here and looking cute,” he counters, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “You’re insufferable,” you tease, and he pretends to be wounded, dramatically clutching his heart.

“Insufferable? Wow, I thought we were past all this name-calling. Just the other day, you called me your favorite person,” he says, winking at you.

“Only because you keep me entertained,” you reply with a smirk, leaning back to grab another handful of popcorn.

In the middle of the movie, the two of you began reminiscing about the past. “Do you remember that camp in middle school? The one where you pushed me into the mud?” You shoot him a mock glare.

Seungmin bursts into laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “How could I forget? You looked like a muddy potato!”

“Thanks, very flattering,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest in mock indignation. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to wash that out of my hair?”

He grins, clearly enjoying this walk down memory lane. “I did it because you were so cute in those banana pajamas. My friends couldn’t stop talking about how adorable you looked. I got jealous!”

Your jaw drops in surprise, and you can’t help but burst into laughter. “You were jealous? So, you decided to make my life miserable? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it? You remember me now.”

“Yeah, I remember you as the worst person ever,” you retort, but your heart swells with affection. “But now? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Seungmin's expression softens, and he leans in closer. “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers, his voice sincere.

You share a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, the warmth of your memories flooding over you. Then, you lean in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, filled with the tenderness that only two years of love can create.

Pulling away, you chuckle softly, “I guess I can forgive you for that muddy incident after all.”

“Just after that?” he asks, feigning shock. “I was expecting a bit more gratitude for making you who you are today.”

You roll your eyes again, but the laughter doesn’t stop. “Alright, fine! Thank you for pushing me into the mud; it led to this beautiful moment of us sitting on the couch, sharing popcorn and memories.”

“See? It’s all about perspective,” he says with a satisfied smile, his hand brushing against yours.

And in that moment, you know that this—this life with Seungmin, filled with laughter, teasing, and love—is everything you ever wanted. You hope it will last forever.

Seungmin was also your practice buddy, always there to help you with your lines.

“I am not doing something that will hurt Elizabeth!” you declared dramatically, trying to channel all the emotion you could muster.

He watched you with an amused expression, his lips curling into a smirk. “Oh really?” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Because it looks like you’re about to break into a musical number any second now.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. “Come on, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Okay, okay. Let’s try again,” he said, suppressing a laugh. “Just imagine Elizabeth is right in front of you. Really feel it!”

You took a deep breath and repeated the line with even more feeling. “I am not doing something that will hurt Elizabeth!”

Seungmin burst into laughter, clapping his hands. “You know, if this acting thing doesn’t work out, you could always pursue a career in stand-up comedy!”

“Ahh, babe, you aren’t a big help,” you complained, playfully swatting at him. “You’re supposed to be my coach, not my heckler!”

He leaned forward, pretending to consider it seriously. “Hmm, maybe I should charge you for coaching fees. Let’s see... One kiss for each lesson?”

“Nice try!” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that!”

“Alright, how about this? If you nail this next line, I’ll cook dinner tonight,” he offered, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

“You’re on!” you said, excitement bubbling within you. “But if I don’t nail it, you have to wash the dishes for a week!”

“Deal!” he laughed, clearly enjoying the challenge.

You focused again, summoning every ounce of emotion. “I am not doing something that will hurt Elizabeth!”

His eyes widened as you delivered the line perfectly this time. “Wow! Look at you! That was amazing!” he exclaimed, pretending to wipe away a tear. “Such a moving performance!”

You beamed, proud of yourself. “See? I told you I could do it!”

“Alright, alright, you win this round,” he said, chuckling. “But don’t get too cocky. We still have more lines to practice.”

You smiled slyly. “More lines means more kisses, right?”

“Only if you keep up this level of talent!” he shot back, winking at you.

With that, you both dove back into practice, filled with laughter, playful banter, and the warmth of shared moments that made every day feel like an adventure.

One of your favorite memories with Seungmin was that time you caught a terrible fever. You had been feeling sluggish all day, and by evening, it hit you like a truck. Seungmin noticed the change in your mood right away.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. His brow furrowed in concern as he gently touched your forehead. "You’re burning up!"

You gave a weak smile, trying to downplay it. "I’m fine… just need to rest a little."

He shook his head, already on his feet. "Nope, you’re officially under Seungmin's care now. Doctor’s orders."

Even through the haze of your fever, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Doctor Seungmin, huh? Since when did you go to med school?”

He grinned down at you. “Oh, you didn’t know? I’m an expert at treating stubborn patients,” he teased, making you chuckle softly. “Now, stay put while I get you some water.”

For the rest of the day, Seungmin was by your side, making sure you had everything you needed. He cooked you a warm soup that he claimed was “an old family recipe,” though you were pretty sure he made it up on the spot. Still, it tasted like comfort, and you couldn’t help but appreciate his efforts.

“Want anything else, sick patient?” he asked, plopping down beside you after tucking the blanket around your shoulders for the third time.

“Maybe… a movie? Something light to distract me?” you suggested, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Seungmin tilted his head thoughtfully. “Despicable Me? That’s your go-to comfort movie, right?”

You grinned, already feeling a bit better. “Yeah, but only if we can watch Pitch Perfect after.”

He groaned dramatically. “Not again with Pitch Perfect! But fine, since you’re sick and all… I’ll allow it.”

You nudged him playfully. “You secretly love it, admit it.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile. “I guess I have a soft spot for watching you geek out over the musical numbers.”

As the night went on, Seungmin kept checking on you, bringing you snacks, adjusting your blanket, and even giving you a forehead kiss here and there, pretending it was part of his “treatment plan.”

Despite the fever and exhaustion, having Seungmin by your side made everything feel a little brighter. You drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice, and when you woke up, he was still there, holding your hand, fast asleep on the couch next to you.

It was in moments like these that you knew how lucky you were to have him—someone who took care of you, made you laugh, and turned even the worst days into something special.

There was also that time when Seungmin had an important music presentation for one of his classes. He had been practicing for weeks, perfecting every note, every rhythm, and you knew how much it meant to him. Unfortunately, your own schedule had been packed, with rehearsals for an upcoming play, and it seemed like there was no way you could attend his presentation.

“I get it, really. Don’t stress,” Seungmin had said, giving you a reassuring smile over breakfast that morning. But you could tell there was a little disappointment hidden behind those words.

Still, you hated the thought of not being there for him, especially when he was always there for you. So you decided to make it work. After an intense day of rehearsals, you managed to sneak out a little early. Without telling him, you grabbed a cab to the venue where his presentation was being held.

By the time you arrived, the presentation was already well underway. You quietly slipped into the back row of the auditorium, catching the last few minutes of his performance. Seungmin was standing confidently on stage, his hands on the keyboard, his voice filling the room with emotion. You could see the passion in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with pride.

As soon as he finished, the crowd erupted into applause, and you stood up, clapping louder than anyone. When Seungmin looked out into the audience, his eyes widened in surprise. He spotted you standing there, and his face broke into the biggest, brightest smile. The kind of smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

Afterwards, he rushed over to you, practically jogging off the stage.

“You came!” he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Of course I did,” you replied, your arms wrapping around him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression soft and full of gratitude. “I thought you had rehearsals?”

“I did, but I snuck out early. Don’t tell my director,” you whispered with a playful grin.

Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” you teased back, making him roll his eyes, though you knew he loved it. “You were amazing, by the way.”

His smile grew even wider. “You think so? I was so nervous.”

“I couldn’t tell at all,” you assured him, then added, “You’re always incredible.”

One of the best memories you had together was that spontaneous road trip to the beach. It wasn’t planned—nothing ever really was with Seungmin. One Friday afternoon, after a long week of classes and rehearsals, he had just shown up at your apartment with a grin on his face and his car keys in hand.

“Pack your bags,” he had said. “We’re going to the sea.”

“Wait, what? Now?” you asked, eyes wide in surprise.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. We’re leaving in five.”

Despite the suddenness, you couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. So, in true Seungmin fashion, you threw a few things into a bag, and before you knew it, you were both in the car, windows down, sun setting in the distance, and the ocean waiting for you on the other side.

The drive started off peaceful, with a soft breeze ruffling your hair as Seungmin hummed along to the radio. But then it came on—Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus.

As soon as the first notes played, Seungmin’s eyes lit up. He turned to you, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. “You know what time it is.”

You laughed, already knowing where this was headed. “No way. I am not singing that.”

“Oh yes, you are,” he said, cranking up the volume. And without missing a beat, he started belting out the lyrics, with so much enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but join in.

“So I put my hands up, they’re playin’ my song—” you sang, matching his energy, your voice blending with his as the two of you practically yelled the lyrics together.

The car became a concert stage, the wind whipping through your hair as you danced in your seats, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. Seungmin banged his hands on the steering wheel to the beat, and you threw your hands up in the air, living in the moment.

“It’s a party in the USA!” you both shouted at the top of your lungs, finishing the chorus with a triumphant fist pump.

By the time the song ended, you were both a mess of laughter and gasps for air, the car filled with the lingering sound of your shared joy. You glanced over at Seungmin, who was still chuckling to himself, and your heart swelled with affection.

“God, I’m so bad at that,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye.

“You’re the best,” he corrected, flashing you that cheeky grin that always made you smile. “Besides, if anyone’s listening, they’re just jealous of your skills.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Right, because off-key karaoke is a highly sought-after talent.”

“Hey, you sounded amazing,” he teased, reaching over to playfully poke your side. “You could totally go on tour.”

“Only if you’re my backup dancer,” you shot back, pretending to strike a dramatic pose.

“Oh, I’d steal the show,” he replied, and for a moment, the teasing softened as he glanced over at you, eyes filled with affection.

As the sun continued to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the road, you leaned back in your seat, feeling completely at ease. With Seungmin by your side, singing karaoke and heading toward the sea, everything just felt right.

But as much as your relationship with Seungmin was filled with laughter and warmth, it wasn’t always easy. Sometimes, happiness wasn’t just happiness—it was tested.

It happened during one of your most important group projects. You were cast as the lead in a film, and your group wanted it to be perfect—flawless. Seungmin, understanding what acting required, always supported your work. But this project turned out to be different. The script called for a kiss—something you didn’t see coming. At first, you brushed it off. It was just acting, after all. You were a professional.

But there was one thing you hadn’t done, something that began to eat away at you slowly—you hadn’t told Seungmin about it.

It wasn’t that you forgot; you deliberately chose not to. He had been so busy with his music major, drowning in rehearsals and deadlines. You didn’t want to burden him with something that could wait, something that would only distract him. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

The day of the filming came, and it was tense. The set was buzzing with nerves, everyone eager to get things just right. You were in the middle of a take, preparing for the scene where the kiss was supposed to happen, when you noticed Seungmin in the distance. He had shown up unexpectedly, holding a lunchbox, his eyes scanning the set.

At first, your heart leapt seeing him. But then the weight of your secret hit you hard.

You hadn’t told him.

And now he was here.

When he saw you kiss your co-star for the scene, his face changed. You saw the surprise, then the hurt, and then… the anger.

He turned and walked away before you could explain. And just like that, everything came crashing down.

The next few days were a blur. Seungmin wouldn’t return your calls or answer your texts. He was always “busy,” but you knew something deeper was wrong. It went on for a week—long, agonizing days of silence. One night, he didn’t even come home. You didn’t know it was because he had been working late on his presentation, but the fear that he might be slipping away from you overwhelmed you. You spent that night crying, feeling like you had lost him.

Finally, after a week of this unbearable distance, you found him sitting at the piano in the apartment, his fingers absentmindedly playing a soft melody. His face was tired, his expression distant.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Seungmin, please… let’s talk.”

He didn’t respond at first, just kept playing. But then, slowly, he stopped, his hands resting on the keys. His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of frustration and hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I should’ve told you. I didn’t mean to hide it. I just… I didn’t want to make you worry when you were already so busy with your major.”

He sighed, looking down at his hands. “It wasn’t about the kiss. Not really. I know what acting is, and I get that. But you didn’t tell me. I found out by watching it happen.”

You bit your lip, guilt swirling in your chest. “I didn’t want to add to your stress. I thought it would just… complicate things.”

Seungmin shook his head. “That’s the problem. You didn’t trust me with it. You think I can’t handle these things, but I can. I just need you to be honest with me, like I’m honest with you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I was wrong for hiding it. I’ll tell you everything from now on.”

His gaze softened, and he got up from the piano, walking over to you. “It’s not about knowing every little thing. I just need to know we’re in this together. That we’re open with each other, no matter what.”

You wiped at your tears, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “I promise, Seungmin. I’ll do better. I just don’t want to lose you.”

He smiled softly, pulling you into his arms. “You won’t. Just… don’t shut me out again, okay?”

You nodded into his chest, feeling his warmth, grateful that the weight of that silence had lifted. There was still so much love between you, and you both knew that even when things got tough, you’d find a way to make it through.

In that moment, as he held you close, you realized that relationships weren’t just about the easy, happy moments. They were about being able to weather the storms together, learning from the mistakes, and growing stronger from them.

After the rain, there was sunshine again—brighter than ever. 🌞

As you both lounged on the couch, the TV remained off, and the world outside seemed distant. It was just you two, basking in each other's company. The room was filled with the soft hum of contentment, the kind that comes from knowing you're right where you're meant to be.

“When we become successful, let’s buy a big house,” Seungmin said, his voice steady but full of excitement for the future.

You turned to him, eyes twinkling, “Yes! With a cinema room, so we can watch movies on a big screen!” You mimed holding a popcorn bowl, already imagining those cozy nights.

“And a kitchen. A big kitchen,” Seungmin added, smiling at the thought of cooking together, even if it meant the usual playful arguments over who would do the dishes.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “And then... we’ll have kids,” you said, a soft smile spreading across your face as you dared to speak about a future you had only dreamed of.

Seungmin, though caught off guard, smiled gently at you. He’d never brought up the idea first, always wanting to respect your wishes and the life you wanted. What if you didn’t want kids? He never wanted to push. But hearing you say it filled him with warmth.

“How many do you want?” he asked, curiosity mixing with affection.

You grinned mischievously, “I want ten.”

Seungmin’s eyes widened as he let out a chuckle. “Ten? That’s… a lot.”

“I want a basketball team, and we’ll need a cheerleader for them,” you giggled, already picturing the chaos.

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “If you want it, I’m here for you. But... according to my mom, she couldn’t even handle me, and I was an only child.”

You pouted playfully. “Well… our kid might be just like you.”

“At least I’m handsome,” he said with a mock serious expression, turning his side profile toward you like he was posing for a photoshoot.

“Yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes, “but hard to handle.”

“Then we’ll handle him together,” Seungmin said, laughing.

“And after that, we’ll have a girl,” you added softly, imagining the little family you could build.

“They’ll probably fight each other,” Seungmin mused, a smirk on his face.

“And then love each other, too,” you said, completing the thought.

Seungmin squeezed your hand, his voice tender. “Yeah... just like we do.”

Your third anniversary snuck up on both of you, buried beneath the mountain of academic work and deadlines. It seemed like the day would slip by unnoticed, just another day marked by exhaustion. You came home, drained, longing for nothing more than to collapse into bed beside Seungmin.

But when you opened the door, what you saw made you freeze in place.

There he was, standing in the middle of the room, guitar in hand, a warm smile on his face. The room was transformed—soft candlelight flickered, casting a golden glow over delicate flowers arranged around the room. The scent of roses mixed with the sweetness of jasmine filled the air. It was as if the whole world had slowed, the weight of the day evaporating in an instant.

Your heart skipped a beat. You were about to cry, already overwhelmed, when Seungmin strummed his guitar and started singing *Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You*.

You stopped mid-step, forgetting about your shoes, your bag—everything. Your hands flew to your face, completely taken by the surprise. It wasn’t the first time he’d sung for you, but tonight felt different. His voice seemed to carry more than just notes; it carried promises, memories, and a future you had dreamed of but never dared to hope for.

As he approached, still singing the chorus, his eyes never left yours. Every note felt like a vow, every lyric like an unspoken question. By the time he reached you, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Even before the song had finished, you threw your arms around him, pulling him close, feeling the warmth of his body as he set down the guitar to hug you back.

Seungmin continued to sing, but now it was just his voice, soft and raw—no instruments, just the sound of his heart speaking to yours. He kissed your forehead as you held him tightly, your eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

You held him close, still amazed by how much your life had changed. How this person, who used to drive you insane with teasing, had become the man you couldn’t imagine living without.

As if reading your thoughts, Seungmin gently pulled away, reaching over to the table and grabbing a bouquet of flowers, handing it to you with a tender smile. When you finally pulled away from the hug, tears streaked down your face, and you quickly wiped them, laughing at yourself.

He chuckled, too. “I shouldn’t have done this if I knew I’d make you cry,” he teased softly.

You playfully slapped his chest, still emotional. “They’re happy tears. It was so beautiful I couldn’t help it.”

Seungmin grinned, his eyes sparkling. “I’m just glad you’re crying from happiness this time. Not like that time I beat you in exams,” he joked, breaking the seriousness with that signature humor of his.

You shook your head, unable to find the words to express what you felt. But you didn’t need to say anything; the love between you was palpable.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “I love you.”

Your heart swelled again, and without thinking, you whispered, "I love you more than anything." You pulled him into another tight hug, feeling so safe in his arms, as if nothing in the world could hurt you as long as you had him. “And I think…” your voice trembled as you spoke, “I think I want to spend every year of my life with you.”

Seungmin pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft but intense. He reached into his jacket pocket, and you didn’t notice at first until he slowly dropped down to one knee.

Your breath caught in your throat as time seemed to stand still.

“I was going to wait,” he began, his voice steady, though you could hear the emotion beneath it. “I was going to wait for the perfect moment, the perfect day, but I realized… any day with you is perfect.” He took a small box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a delicate, shimmering ring.

You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in disbelief.

“So, I figured… why wait?” His eyes never wavered from yours, full of love and sincerity. “Will you marry me?”

Tears spilled over, and you nodded, unable to speak at first. Finally, through shaky breaths, you whispered, “Yes… of course, yes!”

Seungmin’s face broke into the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen as he slipped the ring onto your finger. The room felt warmer, brighter—like all the love you had for each other had materialized and wrapped itself around you both. When he stood up, you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him with all the love and excitement you could pour into that moment.

“I love you so much,” you murmured between kisses, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you were now engaged to the man you loved more than anything in the world.

He laughed softly, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

The rest of the night felt like a dream. You had a candlelit dinner, toasting to your future together, the soft glow of the candles reflecting off the ring that now symbolized your love. The night ended with tender kisses, whispered promises, and the kind of intimacy that comes from knowing your heart has found its home.

It was a night neither of you would ever forget—the beginning of the rest of your lives together.

------

Three years later, life looked like a dream you both had worked so hard to build. You and Seungmin had finally reached the heights of your careers, but what made it even more special was that you had done it together.

You, now a well-respected actress and director, were creating films that moved people—stories that made audiences laugh, cry, and think. Seungmin, now a renowned singer and producer, was loved by millions, with his songs climbing the charts and his name celebrated all over. Despite your busy schedules, you always found your way back to each other, making time for the little moments that mattered most.

You lived in the house you had once dreamed about on your anniversary, a beautiful home with large windows that let in the sunlight and a garden filled with flowers. It had a cozy cinema room—just like you had imagined—where the two of you often curled up to watch movies on the big screen after long days of work. There was a spacious kitchen, perfect for the playful cooking battles you still had, and laughter often echoed through the halls as you lived out the life you’d envisioned, but even better than you could have imagined.

And now, you were happily married.

The wedding had been intimate and beautiful, surrounded by the people you loved most. Seungmin had cried as you walked down the aisle, and though he tried to play it cool, his trembling hands as he held yours during the vows gave him away. It had been a day filled with tears of joy, laughter, and promises of forever. And now, here you were, living that forever.

As you both relaxed in your living room, the glow of a soft sunset spilling through the windows, Seungmin leaned back against the couch, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Remember how much you hated me back then?” he asked, glancing at you with that mischievous glint in his eye.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, I didn’t just hate you,” you teased. “I despised you. If I had teleportation powers back then, I would've dumped you right into the middle of the Pacific Ocean without a second thought.”

Seungmin burst out laughing, the sound filling the room. “You really would’ve, too! You used to look at me like you were plotting my demise.”

“Well, you didn’t make it easy,” you retorted, smirking. “You always laughed at my misery. You had this evil little laugh every time I got a lower grade than you. It drove me crazy.”

Seungmin wiped away a fake tear of joy. “It was so fun watching you squirm!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile playing on your lips gave you away. “And then that Romeo and Juliet project… I thought that was the universe punishing me. I had to be paired with you of all people.”

He grinned wider, eyes sparkling with fondness. “That project changed everything, though.”

You sighed, the memory tugging at your heart. “Yeah… I thought you were insufferable, but then I saw how serious you were about acting. You weren’t just the annoying kid who was good at everything. You actually had depth.”

Seungmin leaned closer, his tone softening. “And I thought you were just competitive for the sake of it, but you were so passionate. I admired that. You just wanted to be the best version of yourself.”

You smiled, the nostalgia washing over you. “I still can’t believe I went from wishing I could fling you across the globe to… well, spending forever with you.”

Seungmin reached out and took your hand, his thumb brushing gently across your knuckles. “I’m glad I wore you down,” he teased.

“You didn’t wear me down,” you said, smiling. “You just… made me see you differently. And I fell in love with who you really are.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the teasing melted into something more profound. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Who would’ve thought that the girl who wanted to kill me would be the love of my life?”

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Life’s funny like that.”

Years passed, and now you were in the hospital delivery room, the atmosphere charged with anticipation and tension. The pain gripped you as contractions came in waves, and Seungmin stood by your side, his face pale with worry, tears already brimming in his eyes as he watched you struggle.

“Breathe, baby, just breathe,” he whispered, his voice shaky as he held your hand, his grip tight but trembling. He wiped the sweat from your forehead, looking helpless as he tried to offer comfort, though it was clear he was barely holding himself together.

Through the haze of pain, you saw the tears slip down his cheeks. He was crying harder than you’d ever seen him before, overwhelmed with both fear and love as he watched the woman he adored go through something so difficult.

When the baby’s cries finally filled the room, Seungmin broke down completely. The doctors placed your newborn son in his arms, and he hugged the tiny bundle, tears streaming down his face, whispering something soft and incoherent through his sobs.

“He… he looks like me,” he choked out, looking down at the baby boy swaddled tightly, the resemblance already undeniable. His voice cracked with emotion, and he couldn’t stop crying as he leaned down to kiss you, his heart overflowing with love and relief.

Still exhausted and weak, you looked at the two of them—your husband and your son—and a tired but warm laugh escaped your lips. “I take it back,” you said, smiling faintly through your fatigue. “I don’t want ten anymore. Delivering one was already too much.”

Seungmin chuckled softly, though his eyes were still wet. “Just one… is already perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

You both looked down at the baby, now peacefully asleep in Seungmin’s arms. He shifted closer, wrapping his other arm around you so the three of you could be together, a family. He kissed your forehead softly, the weight of the moment sinking in as you shared a look that held all the love and emotion words could never fully express.

“I love you,” Seungmin whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

You smiled, your heart swelling with more love than you ever thought possible. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your eyes lingering on the tiny face of your son, knowing that this was the beginning of a whole new chapter—a chapter filled with love, growth, and the family you had dreamed of together.

---

an: a reblog, comment, and heart is very much appreciated. thank you for reading have a great day/ night!

[astarioffsimpmain]

Could I perhaps request hcs for Astarion and/or Halsin with a reader who is prone to getting wrist and ankle injuries (and they are a fool who reinjures themselves often, mainly due to overestimating how healed they are but also giving the excuse of "I was bored! What was I supposed to do?") Thanks!

Hello, anon!! Sorry it took so long to post this! I did both to make up for it (and it got reaaaaal long lmao); I hope that's alright. <3 Thank you for the lovely request!!

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Astarion

You had chosen to come with them, despite everyone's protests. Shadowheart was concerned that you had not fully healed, and due to her suspicion, Lae'zel was convinced you would be a liability.

Astarion feigned apathy, of course, but it was the increasingly more frequent glances he was tossing back in your direction as you went that gave him away

You were a fairly casual traveler anyway, preferring to lurk in the middle or the back of the group as you walked, providing directions when the group came to an impasse. It was no doubt you were their leader, however, for every head turned to you when any kind of decision or uncertainty arose

But today was an exceptionally slow day, even for you. You plodded along behind the others, a sharp eye but dull reflexes; you were the only one who couldn't tell. Only when the group was surprised by a batch of newly spawned gnolls, did you come to realize just how grave a mistake you had made.

You tugged the bow from your back and reached for an arrow; once you had the bowstring pulled taut, you noticed the ache in your left wrist. You tried to ignore it as you slung arrow after arrow to the shelf on the bow, but your aim was failing you, and two gnolls already had their sights set on you; so when a sudden, sharp pain in your wrist sent your next arrow flying harmlessly above one of the gnoll's heads, it set its teeth and grinned at you as if to say, "I've got you now," and charged you, the other one following close behind

Gasping, you reached for your sword; pain - red hot pain. You cried out as it blinded you and looked around for your companions; all busy, all pre-occupied. You had to get to one of them; had to get away - you were useless like this. You were going to die.

Suddenly, a flash of white came across your vision; blades and metal and teeth planted itself in front of you. "Star?"

"You idiot!" he seethed as he slashed at the gnolls, their dagger-like claws slicing the elf's pale skin. In a flash, the one nearest him was down, bleeding a sticky red over the ground, and the moment he saw an opening, Astarion lunged at the second, sinking his fangs into its neck. It writhed, clawing at the armor on his back, before falling limp.

He took several more measured gulps before letting the body drop unceremoniously and rounding on you, his red eyes feral and gleaming. "You almost died, you absolute fool!" he screeched and you shrunk away from him, having never seen his anger directed at you this vehemently before. "You were told to stay in camp, but nooo! You had to come out here and endanger your life, again! Gods! And what, exactly, do you think we would have done were our leader to die, hm? Gale, the ticking time bomb, can't very well lead us, nor could Wyll, the Blade of I-have-a-devil-on-my-shoulder-Frontiers! If you go down, we all go down, and I can't go down! Not like this..."

"Astarion," Karlach's voice sounded behind you and she laid a heavy, comforting hand on your shoulder as your eyes filled with guilty tears. "They've heard enough." Astarion huffed and turned away, and the five of you treaded back to camp, nursing battle wounds, guilt, and hurt feelings.

Thankfully, Gale had readied a warm soup in your absence, and he handed you a bowl with a gentle smile upon your return - gods, you must have truly looked awful. You took it with a quiet "thank you" and sat down close to the fire, curling inwards, hoping no one would look your way. Astarion was right, you had endangered everyone due to your foolishness. Even now, you nursed your left wrist, letting the bowl's weight fall on your right instead. You groaned softly, knowing you would have to return to Shadowheart and have her repair it - once again - to the state it was in before today. You would have to bear her frustrated gaze, and you were just not certain you could right now.

After slurping down most of the soup, you returned the bowl to Gale and made for your own tent - you figured you would not be welcome in Astarion's tonight. You curled your hand up to your chest to keep gravity from causing even more swelling, and ducked inside.

You nearly lost your footing when you looked up and saw Astarion, with a sour expression on his face, sitting on your bedroll, mixing a green-ish, gooey liquid in a bowl. A single step forward explained his scrunched up nose - it smelled awful. "Star?" you asked quietly, putting your right hand over your nose and mouth.

"Only you would have me sitting here mixing this gods-awful concoction instead of sleeping," he fussed, mixing harder.

"W-what are you talking about? I came to my tent because I figured you'd rather be alone in yours," you replied, muffled by your sleeve.

"I almost lost you today and you think I'd rather be alone?" he griped, and you softened almost immediately, tears springing to your eyes. "This is a salve the druid recommended. It will help with the swelling. Just think! If you were a vampire, you wouldn't swell. Wouldn't that be swell." He was muttering angrily, but all of his bluster had expired. His eyebrows, that had previously been knitted together, were now curved up in desperation as he continued mixing.

You kneeled down in front of him and gently laid your hands over his. "It's mixed, Star," you said quietly, and he looked up at you, his eyes round and misty. You guided his hands to set the bowl on the table beside you, then curled your fingers around his. "I'm so sorry," you whispered. "Everything you said was right; I endangered everyone today, for a really stupid reason. I just feel-" you paused, choking on your words as your throat tightened with unshared emotions. "I feel so useless staying behind."

Before you could process what was happening, you were being pulled into Astarion's chest, his arms winding so tightly around your back that you almost couldn't breathe; but gods it felt so good. Your arms were around his neck in an instant and you breathed in his perfume and the lingering salt from battle. You let the tears fall down your face in earnest as you buried it in his shoulder.

"My darling," he whispered. "You are never useless, no matter where you are. You've done so much for all of us - for me - already. Gods damn it, you couldn't be useless if you tried."

Halsin

You had been ordered to rest in camp by the others after a taking a nasty fall on the cliffside. You had unfortunately stepped in an obscured burrow hole, and your foot had dropped through, leaving the rest of your body to twist at an unnatural angle as you fell to the earth. For a week, you had not been able to walk on it at all, limping around on the makeshift supports that Halsin had carved for you from a nearby fallen tree.

But it had been three weeks since then, and you were moving around with much more agility now, walking without any supports, and even doing your turns with the laundry in the nearby lake. You wanted to return to aiding your companions on your journey, but no one else thought you were ready to return.

As frustrating as it was, you understood where they were coming from - they weren't certain you were fully healed and did not want a liability in battle. You wouldn't either. But with little to do at camp, you were left bored and restless, always aimlessly walking about looking for something to do.

That something presented itself when Scratch and Bite*, the owlbear cub you rescued awhile back from the goblin camp, came bounding up to you, a ball in Scratch's mouth. You smiled, excited at the prospect of eluding your boredom for a little while, and cast Speak with Animals on yourself. "Are you both as bored as I am?" you asked them once the spell took hold.

Scratch dropped the ball. "I noticed you were unsettled, friend," he said. "Perhaps this will give you something to do without straining your foot."

"Ball, throw; chase!" Bite jumped around excitedly.

"Aww, you guys are the best," you exclaimed, touched by their kind gesture. You picked up the ball and turned it over in your hand a couple of times before turning to aim across camp at where Wyll sat in front of his tent. "Are you ready? Let's get Wyll involved!" Scratch and Bite wiggled their butts, ready to chase, and you launched the ball in Wyll's direction.

It bounced directly in front of him and soared over his head, bonking against one of his horns and turning in the other direction. Wyll's head snapped up, found the ball, then turned to you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. You slapped your hand over your mouth to keep from guffawing. "Sorry, Wyll!"

"Oh, you will be," he replied, but here was no malice to be found in his words as he set his book aside and rose, slapping his knee a couple times until Scratch returned the ball to him. "You'd better be quick, Tav; you don't have horns to protect your head!" Wyll laughed before hurling the ball in your direction. You squealed with glee and raised your hands to catch it, the ball landing smoothly in your hands.

"Get him back, Bite!" you cackled, throwing the ball towards the owlbear cub, and he raced after it, lodging it in his beak before running at Wyll at near-top speed.

"Whoa!" Wyll yelled in surprise and dove out of the way as the cub barreled past him, turning on a dime to keep from destroying Wyll's tent. "That has to be some kind of penalty in this game!" he laughed, on all fours in the dirt.

"And what game would that be, exactly, Wyll?" you tittered as the cub returned the ball to you.

"Aren't we playing catch?" Wyll asked, dusting his hands off and returning to his feet.

"Hells if I know!" you shouted playfully and turned, tossing the ball towards Gale instead.

When it bounced off of the hefty tome in the wizard's hands, startling him so much that he leveled backwards, you and Wyll collapsed into fits of giggles. Several moments later, Gale was in front of you, holding the ball in his hand with a stern expression on his face. "Was this your doing, Tav?" he asked.

"It was," you breathed, wiping the tears from your eyes as you recovered. "I'm so sorry, Gale, I didn't mean to hit your book. I was aiming for your shoe." More devolved cackling ensued from Wyll several feet away. "I wanted you to join in." you giggled, wiping your other eye.

"Well then," Gale said, his face still solemn, but his eyes telling a different story. "You should have just asked." He threw his hands up in a shrug.

"Gale," you said, observing the wizard's now empty hands. "Where's the ball?"

"Hmm," he faux-pondered. "What an excellent question, Tav. I wonder..."

Your question was answered seconds later as it whizzed by your head from somewhere behind you and you gasped in shock, slinging yourself around to find a blue mage hand waving at you colloquially. "Gale!" you screeched, laughing as Scratch took off running.

"I should have known you wouldn't play fair!" Wyll called, already jogging to a new spot.

"You absolutely should have," Gale affirmed, and took a spot further away from you. "How about we elevate this a little?" He suggested slyly and muttered an incantation. A ball appeared in your hands and another in Wyll's. "Two are illusions, the ones you have there. Only one really matters. You know the difference now, but after Scratch and Bite have a go at them? Well,"

"What does the winner get?" you asked.

"Mm," Gale pondered for a moment, but Wyll interjected.

"Laundry done by the two losers for three weeks."

"Done." you answered swiftly.

Gale was slower to answer, but conceded. "Alright, done."

"Let's get started."

The camp was in chaos for the next half hour, Scratch and Bite no longer the only ones diving for the little leather balls. You couldn't remember the last time you'd had so much fun, but it all came crashing down when you jumped off of your bad foot to dive for the ball. You let out a scream of pain as your fingers closed around the ball, and you landed in the dirt with a heavy thud.

"Tav?!" Gale called, knowing immediately that something was amiss. Wyll wasn't long to realize after him, trotting up to you with a worried expression on his face.

"I-" you groaned, pulling your ankle close to inspect it. "I went down on it; my bad ankle. Oh, gods."

"Mystra's finger, I had forgotten about your ankle. Oh, Tav, this is my fault, I greatly apologize," Gale stuttered, and reached towards you. "Please, allow me to help you get to a nice resting spot so that we can get it elevated."

"I assumed you were better, this is on me as well. I am so sorry, Tav. Gale, I'll help."

You accepted both Gale and Wyll's help and they moved you to an empty bedroll by the unlit fire, lowering you down onto the pillows. Gale rushed to his tent and returned with several more to prop under your knee and foot. You cringed, not only at the pain but at the thought of having to explain to Halsin what you had done. He had been healing you little by little over the course of the last three weeks, checking in on you so diligently each time to make sure you would be ready to return to your journey as swiftly as possible, and this was how you had rewarded him. You laid your head in your hands in shame and waited for the inevitable.

The remainder of your companions returned several hours later, and you hadn't moved from your place. You almost didn't dare to look up when the druid stopped before you, but you took a quick glance at his tired expression and nearly cried. He had obviously been through the ringer today, and certainly didn't need your foolishness to contend with.

"What happened here?" he asked gruffly, exhaustion creeping through each word.

Gale and Wyll were by your side in an instant, as if they had both been waiting for this moment as tensely as you had. "Wyll and I were playing fetch with Scratch and Bite, and I tossed the ball too close to them. They tried to jump aside, and twisted their ankle again."

Halsin looked at Gale skeptically, but the wizard held a firm expression. Even so, you couldn't take it; they couldn't take the fall for you.

"Gale, it's okay," you said quietly, and his head swiveled to you, his expression falling. "I can't let the two of you take the fall for me. I was foolish, I should have known better." You turned to Halsin, whose suspicious eyes now fell on you. "We were all playing fetch with Scratch and Bite. I instigated it, and I jumped on my bad foot to catch the ball and landed wrong. I'm so sorry, Halsin. I took your healing for granted. I will make the herb salves and heal it on my own this time." You looked guiltily down at your swelling ankle, new discoloration already seeping through the skin.

No one said a word, and the silence from Halsin was deafening. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, unable to look at him again, but also unable to leave.

You gasped when you felt large hands reach under your knees and around your back and lift you into the air. Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Halsin, who had pulled you to his chest and was wordlessly carrying you towards his tent. The guilt only grew and infected the rest of your chest cavity, hollowing you with an ache you knew it would take awhile to get rid of.

The druid laid you down on the pillows in his tent and arranged a few under your leg and foot, then turned away from you to begin mixing more of the same salve he had been using on you before. You were silent. You didn't dare speak. You had never seen Halsin so quiet before. You were anxious. Halsin was the last person you ever wanted upset with you; he was kind, gentle, caring, and so very patient. You had fallen for him, and now you had taken his craft and his time for granted, like an unruly child.

You watched quietly as he applied the salve on your bruising ankle, not meeting your eyes, then exited the tent without a word. You clutched your other knee to your chest and laid your head down on it, knowing his silence was what you deserved. You fell into a semi-sleep in that position, relaxing as well as you could without moving.

Next thing you knew, you were awoken by movement just outside the mouth of the tent, and you stiffened, your eyes not opening properly. It was still dark, that much you could tell, and whatever was outside the tent flap was large. You glanced around for a dagger, a club, something. But before you found anything of use, a brilliant light flashed and the shadow of a creature became the shadow of a man before your eyes. You sighed in relief. Halsin.

A massive hand pulled the tent flap up and you met his eyes in the dark. You stared at one another for several agonizing moments before you muttered softly, "I'm sorry."

He sighed, his other hand passing over his face. "I know," he said quietly, pushing further into the tent until his entire hulking body rested beside you. "Sometimes I forget how young you are; how young all of you are. You are human, you have far less time than elves. You were taught to make the most of it. Humans are raised on seizing the moment, not any manner of patience; because you must be."

"I took you for granted, Halsin, and you are the last person I would want to let down." You laced your fingers in front of your knee and laid your chin back down on it. "It doesn't matter that I'm a human. I could die tomorrow and it wouldn't matter. I-"

"Do not ever speak of yourself that way." Halsin said, suddenly insistent. "It would matter a great deal if you were to perish, to any of us; it would matter an even greater deal to me." He exhaled and his hand passed across his face again. "I care a great deal about you, my heart; perhaps too great."

You swore in that moment that your heart stopped beating. "Halsin," you whispered breathlessly. "Are you-?"

"You cannot tell me that you haven't noticed how I favor you," he said softly. "My care is two-fold in regards to you."

"I-" a tear escaped your eye and Halsin reached for you immediately, brushing it away and cupping your cheek in his hand. "I care for you too, Halsin; so much." A tear fell down your other cheek, and the druid's other hand came to rest there, as if it would pain him to see any of your tears be wasted on the earth - a fine irony for the man before you.

"One day in my short lifespan, perhaps I'll deserve you," you huffed a quiet laugh, attempting to dispel the tension, but Halsin was having none of it. He surged forward instead, pressing his warm lips against your own and lacing his fingers into your hair, dragging himself as close to you as he could without hurting you. His kiss was like fire, consuming you from the inside out, and you wound your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into his braids as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged ever so slightly.

"My heart," he muttered raggedly after releasing your lips. "You already do."

*Inspiration for the Owlbear Cub being named "Bite" here!

~

fin

Tagging, Darlings: @micropoe10 @knightofmight01 @fanon-and-canon @just-a-refrigerator

[takenbypeter]

Chicken Soup

Tangerine x reader

Words: 539

Based on the prompt: “I didn’t ask you to do that?” “You didn’t have to.” From @deity-prompts

There were a few people you could’ve expected to appear at your building door knowing you were sick. 

Your mom, your best friend, even your sibling. Who you didn’t expect to show up with a paper bag of who knows what in his hand was Tangerine. 

Gripping the blanket that was already encased around your body, you left him at the open door turning back around to the comfort of your couch. Letting him enter the room himself. 

Tangerine and you had a pretty basic relationship. 

Well actually you were friends with Lemon initially and then in turn sort of friends with Tangerine since he was practically always around. 

While you and Lemon clicked instantly, Tangerine and you…took a little longer. At first you thought he was just a rude arrogant asshole, but then you learned he was just a dependable asshole who was pretty loyal to those he cared for. 

An old married couple is what Lemon called the two of you, since you’ve gotten into the habit of bickering with the man.

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled out, face half pressed against your cushions. 

“What is that? Is that the bulls—t thanks I get for coming to see my dear sick friend.”

You glared at him from your spot as he stepped closer, setting the bag on the table in front of you. 

You were tired and you felt gross, “I don’t want to get into this with you today all I want is to lay here and die.”

With your eyes shut you failed to notice the smirk that was appearing on his face. “Woah, woah, no talking about dying.”

“Tan, you’re literally an assassin.”

“That’s a fact,” he sat on the end by your legs causing you to scrunch your body to make more room for him. He tapped your ankles three times,and you open your eyes again, watching while he reached for the bag. 

“But you’re not going to die today,” he added. 

Interest piqued you sit up while he takes a round white container out from the bag. 

“Chicken soup,” he said, opening it then reaching into the bag again and pulling out a familiar casing, “cold medicine.”

You blinked at the objects in front of you, surprised by the unforeseen gesture. 

“I didn’t ask you to do all this,” you said vaguely remembering the sick text you had sent to Lemon earlier that day, which no doubt is how the information got to Tangerine. 

“You didn’t have to.”

You don’t know if it was the sickness or the gesture but you looked at Tangerine. Really looked at him. In that moment you saw who he really was and while it may have taken you a long time to see it you were happy you did. 

You must’ve been staring because his expression grew a bit sour, “what is this? What are you doing?” 

You just shook your head in response while he looked you up and down. 

“Nothing.”

Giving his throat a good cough he pointed at the bowl, “go on then, don’t want to eat cold soup now do you?”

And while it was just regular ole chicken soup, something about it just seemed extra delicious that night. 

[bookworm-with-coffee]

Insecurities. . .

(Kili x Reader)

(A/N); Hello and welcome, readers!! As always, thank you for stopping by!! I thought it was high time to write a fic for Kili! After all, who can resist that cheeky smile of his?? Do enjoy! ❤

Plot; Comfort drabble

Pairings; Kili x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; fluffity-fluff and some angy-angst

_____________________________________

The evening was cheerful, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield having stopped for the night after a long day's travels. Peaceful ambience of the forest began to increase in the nightfall, the breeze light and cool as it swayed through the rustling trees.

Firelight filled the camp with a warm flickering glow, the smell of woodsmoke and Bombur's cooking potent in the air. Conversation was easy to find and delightful, as always. Bofur, Dwalin, Nori and a few of the others were sat together, conversing in what sounded like their native tongue. The intricacies and mysteries of Khuzdul still left you amazed, despite how it was only merriful banter.

You had stood by Bombur, offering to take Bofur's place tonight as the food-server. Each bowl of soup was steaming hot, your steps having to be quick to avoid burning yourself too badly from the scalding liquid as it dripped from the bowl. Each Dwarf had eagerly taken the food that was offered, exhaustion fueling their hunger. Even Bilbo and Gandalf seemed relieved to finally be eating this evening. The days were long and draining, trudging through the wilderness in the everchanging landscape. You too found relief in finally dropping down beside the youngest of the two Princes once your rounds were finished.

Fili, who usually kept him company of a nighttime, was occupied in the audacious conversations nearby. The booming laughter that rang out almost startled you whilst you settled in alongside Kili, him offering the occasional soft chuckle at the words being thrown between bites of his food.

Darting to you, the Prince's hazel eyes glistened with the embers of the campfire. A soft smile of amusement crossed his face, the action always seeming to offer you comfort. "What are they on about now?", you quirked a brow, his expression becoming contagious.

"By this point in the conversation, I don't think you want to know".

"Enlighten me", you encouraged, laughter slipping from the Princeling's lips. It was hard for Kili to restrain his smile when he finally obliged.

"They're taking bets on whether or not Bofur uses his hat in the bedroom".

"Pigs", you huffed, a moment's silence passing before you added, "He clearly does". The Prince snorted, his soup suddenly travelling through his nostrils. Something akin to a guffaw escaped his lips, whilst he desperately tried to grapple his composure in your now shared laughter.

"Agreed", he managed to wheeze out, wiping at his face and mouth.

In moments like this, you appreciated the bond that had formed between you both. Despite the seriousness of the quest at hand, you always found yourself at ease within Kili's easygoing nature and cheeky humour. He always had a way of soothing your anxieties with his jokes and lighthearted conversations, always looking on the brighter side of things. And although he was oblivious to such things, you'd come to find him to be quite beautiful.

It was hard not to when the light of the fire danced over his features, illuminating the strands of hair that fell effortlessly over his face. You'd come to admire those wavy tresses with their now auburn glow, sitting over his strong and broad shoulders. You wondered how he cared for them, keeping them so clean despite the lack of hygiene this quest entailed.

With his head turned and gaze fixed on the forest ahead, you found that his messed half-up had lost a few strands that dangled, masking the Prince's handsome face from your current view. His metal clasp was now sitting loosely on the back of his head. And although it offered him a fitting style, you wished to fix it for him.

Dinner became suddenly forgotten in your new endeavours when you decided to test the waters with Kili. Reaching for the strand that had fallen loose over his face, your fingertips worked the silken strands behind his ear with a delicate precision. The Prince almost seemed to stiffen at your touch, his breaths halting whilst goosebumps ignited across his skin. His lips had parted, lashes fluttering. No woman had ever touched him like that before. And although there was nothing sensual about your touch, it made every part of him light up like fire, craving more of that soothing gentleness.

Sensing his quiet, you became hesitant to continue. "May I fix your hair for you?". Your question had his hazel orbs clouding in confusion, scanning your face for any sign that you may have been jesting. He nodded shyly, his voice seeming to waver slightly,

"Please". That being all the confirmation you needed, you pulled the large clasp from his hair, the thick layers falling loose. Excitement bubbled in your chest whilst you shuffled closer to the handsome Dwarf.

Steadying his breaths, he resisted the shudder that passed through him when your fingers began working through his hair like a gentle comb. You began to remove the small tangles, relishing in the soft touch of his hair. The moisture in the strands was not greasy or dirty in nature and his waves bounced back, unaffected by your touches. The Prince's eyes had fallen closed, his dinner being long abandoned in his blissful state. The sensation of your nails brushing over his scalp had him drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to fight the pleasurable sighs that dared to leave his throat.

The boisterous conversations that once ensnared his attention had faded from his ears. He was barely able to register your voice when you spoke so gently to him. "Your hair is so beautiful", you marveled, spindling his soft hair between your fingers playfully. "How do you keep it so soft and lovely?". The young Prince felt his throat tightening from shock, pondering what your interest was in his hair. In his opinion, there was nothing special about his tresses.

Kili gathered no attention from women, unlike his fellow kin. His complete lack of facial and body hair meant that to any respectable Dwarf, he was considered ugly or unattractive. At your compliments, it was only normal for him to be in a state of disbelief. You were the first and only woman to take interest.

"It's nothing special", he finally murmured. "I just use a light oil after I wash my hair".

"You need to lend it to me sometime", you insisted with a grin, your eyes seeming to sparkle with mirth. "It works wonders on your hair. It's so beautiful". Kili felt his heartbeat increase, his tone falling quieter amidst his further disbelief.

"Do you think so?". In a sudden surge of confidence, you replied,

"I know so. You have the most gorgeous looking hair out of all the Dwarves in this Company". His eyes had blown wide, his lips parting in surprise. "It looks lovely pinned back", you added, finally binding his hair securely with his clasp. "Or left out". You shrugged. He grew confused when you shuffled in front of him. "But, I think I like your fringe the most. It frames your kind face without hiding it".

You were so close now, your (e/c) eyes trained on the delicate strands that made up his bangs. Your touch was featherlight and uncalloused, your face screwed in concentration. In your current focus, you didn't see the admiration and awe for you that shimmered in his gaze. Never had he gotten attention like this, even from a friend. Friend. He despised that word when his thoughts drifted to you. But, how could you possibly ever find him attractive?? His lack of facial hair and muscle was unmanly, even by human standards.

You were strangely beautiful to Kili. You weren't as tall or lithe as the Elves, nor as creamy-skinned or graceful. You had perfect little imperfections in your skin and freckles. Your hair had character, being curly. And you almost always wore your hair out of your face, the odd stray hair coming to frame it perfectly. And from the moment he sensed his feelings for you some weeks ago, Kili had felt his confidence decrease. He felt as if he had no chance with 12 other eligible Dwarves in the Company that could easily win you over with their toned bodies and lavish, braided hair.

The Princeling wasn't oblivious to how you often spent your time with Ori, looking through his books and learning how to knit the varying patterns he practiced. And despite how Ori was much younger than Kili, he had an attractive amount of body hair. He was nowhere near as confident as the Prince, nor as rehearsed in the prowess of battle. However, it didn't stop the envy that crept its way into his heart and mind. Looks had always mattered to everyone else before, so why would it be any different now?

When your cooler hands brushed over his face whilst you worked, it left burning tingles in his skin. You noted the perfect shaping of his eyebrows, running your thumbs over them to smooth any stray hairs. His features were strong, to be expected of a man in Dwarven culture. You swept loose pieces of his fringe from his cheeks, his stubble seductively rough beneath your skin.

Some part of you preferred Kili without a beard. All the hair that hung from the others was so extravagant, but you liked seeing more of his face. His cheeky smile was your favourite thing to see, even on a bad day. Perhaps a beard would hide that?

Raking his fringe up for slight volume, you found yourself taken by how ethereal he seemed. You questioned yourself on whether or not it was your lack of food and rest from the day, but you couldn't ignore the fondness that crept into your soul at being so close with him. A smile marked your face, setting the last strands of his dark locks aside.

"Beautiful", you'd murmured, a sense of accomplishment filling your heart. The warmth of his skin increased beneath your lingering fingertips, his hazel gaze playing over your softer features. To his greater surprise, there was only genuity in your expression. Not wanting you to retreat from him, Kili placed his heated callouses over your own, fighting the way his eyes slightly glazed over with tears.

"Thank you". He offered you one of those boyish smiles, taking comfort in the suppleness of your skin beneath his own. You caressed the stubble beneath your skin, grazing your thumb over the smoothness of his sharp cheekbone. Kili chuckled in amusement, "I look a bit more dignified now".

"Nonsense. Your hair looked fitting either way", you laughed softly, squeezing the warmer hands that held your own. "It's truly beautiful. Stubble and all". His dark brows had risen, wonder filling his kind gaze. You really didn't mind his lack of body hair??

"I always thought my stubble was– I thought it may have been unsightly", he confessed with the hints of a nervous smile, your brows creasing in light concern. "Beards are of high importance in my culture".

"Not in mine", you shrugged, slowly trailing your thumb over his dimples and slightly chapped lips. "Besides, how else would I be able to see that gorgeous smile?". The shy grin that slowly splayed onto his face at your words was the happiest one you'd ever seen on the Prince. Your words had dissolved any unsurities in his heart. "That's the one", you giggled, Kili trying and failing to restrain his smile.

"I think I like yours better", he murmured, sweeping one of your stray curls from your face. "It's the one I fell for, after all".

The small gap between you both closed, Kili's burning lips meeting yours in a gentle touch. It started off unsure and light, becoming almost fervent when your head tilted and lips parted to allow his tongue to slip past them. Using his hand resting along your jaw, he guided your head closer to his own, relishing in the need to be as close to you as possible. His stubble scratched the skin of your face pleasurably, a soft sigh exhaling through your nose.

The both of you separated, your lips swollen and tingling from the caresses and nibbles of his own. Kili's eyes finally fluttered open after a few moments, skimming your face with a soft tenderness. "Abnâmul", he whispered, running a heated digit over your tingling lips. "You'll have to let me do that more often".

"I'll have to think about it", you mused, squeezing the hand that cradled your face affectionately.

"Hopefully not too hard", Kili sighed in pretend dejection, tracing his thumb along your cheek. "I do really love you".

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual", you chuckled softly, pressing your lips to his with a playfulness. No longer burdened with his insecurities, Kili's laughter chased your own,

"Me too".

The End. . .

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Hey, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this fic! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!! If you wish to be a part of my taglist, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in! ❤❤❤

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Translations;

Abnâmul = "beautiful", (Khuzdul)

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TAGLIST; @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @emrfangirl

[fanaticsnail]

A Small Kindness

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 8,088

Notes: The clown needed a little bit of love, I think. This is a gift written for the lovely @sordidmusings. Let's love on the failing-forward man. Image Source link.

Synopsis: A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.

Themes: homeless Buggy, pathetic-leaning Buggy, MDNI, smut, p in v, afab!reader, angst-smut-fluff sandwich, one-bed-trope.

In the corner booth, resting with his chin on the heels of his palms, and staring at the cool droplets of the condensation running down the water decanter of the tavern he sat. All majesty, all tom-foolery, all wealth, fame and power flung from him the moment he was defeated, yet again, by that stupid kid, with a stupid grin, crowned with that stupid hat he got from that stupid rat. 

A stray hair fell into his face, prompting his pouty lips to huff out a puff of hot air at the strands to push them away from vision. He’d lost it all. His crew dispersed among the seas, his big top sunk and in dire need of repair with no means to finance such a feat. 

But you didn’t know any of those things.

All you saw was a blue-haired man with a shiny, round, red nose sitting alone and down on his luck in that booth; yet to order a single thing from the menu. You noticed the way he attempted to hide his hunger, clutching at his stomach and cursing under his breath for it to stifle its incessant groaning. 

Brows arching in a triangle at the peak of your forehead, a thin, lopsided smile danced on your lips as you took out a large, ceramic dish from under the benchtop and drew it to the stove. You ladeled into the dish a large portion of the lentil, split pea and hickory ham soup you had been lovingly caring for throughout the day into the bowl and sliced up two pieces of sourdough to place atop flames to char its surface. Sorting out a small ramekin of soft, salted butter, you placed it on your tray alongside the bowl of soup, completing your assortment of food to lay before the somber stranger. 

“Excuse me, sir?” you smiled down at him. He lazily lolled his head up at you and stared blankly through half-hooded eyes. His eyelashes danced as they battered up at you, his frown still ever present at the peak of his brow. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m movin’ on, Doll. Don’t you worry yourself, I’ll be out of your hair in a-,” he began, dismissively waving his hand only to be cut off by you placing down your tray atop the table and beginning to silently arrange the elements in front of him. His eyes widened at the harvest, his lips automatically opening and beginning to salivate at the aroma wafting to his large nose from the soup. 

“This is for you, sweetheart,” you beamed at him, a genuine and polite smile cooing down at the man in the booth, “I hope you enjoy your meal.” Turning away from the blue-haired man, you began collecting emptied pint glasses and tankards from the adjoining tables throughout the room. You gazed at the man over your shoulder, watching as he apprehensively removed his pale gloves from his hands and placed them beside him.

Taking the silver, round, spoon into his hands, he took a small portion of the soup into it and darted his tongue out to take a small lick of the stock. His eyes widened before rolling back into his head, his lips smacked together as he savored the first gulp of soup. You thought you heard an utterance of an “Oh, fuck,” under his breath before he began horking down the assortment of treats you had presented to him. 

Allowing a small giggle to escape your lips, you fished around in the front of your apron in search of a few of your personal wage to pay for the man’s meal to place in the till. Down to the last note of your berry, you had yet to break-even on this shift. Feeding this man had put you behind on your pay, but it was worth it to see the small twinkle in his eye at each spoonful he threw back into his open mouth. 

After bidding the last patron farewell and beginning to close down the till, the man wandered over to the counter and placed down his empty bowl; completely licked clean, and with no crumb nor smudge of food left atop the plate and ramekin. Your brow arched up at the discovery of how little remained behind before you drew your eyes up to meet with his. 

And what magnificent eyes he had. Although they seemed rather frantic, sheepish and darting; his eyes held a deep sorrow behind them. The tone of his eyes danced in the flicker of the flames initing the tavern walls, in some lights: a calming blue, and in others: a spark of green. 

“Was that okay?” you asked him, your knowing smirk rising to a grin to bare your teeth at him. He held his teal eyes to the floor, meeting his gaze with anything other than your own in the process. His teeth bore themselves into a thin line, grimacing a small smile through a sheepish expression.

“It was-,” he began, sighing in the middle of his thoughts as he found the correct word, “-Nice.” You flung a hearty laugh into the air, shaking your head at his curt response as you took the dishes and placed them in the pass behind you to clean once he had exited the premises. 

“I’m glad you thought it was nice,” you teetered off your laugh into a small giggle. His face held no humor, no longer depicting the twinkle in his eyes as he pouted and held his eyes away from yours. He grumbled under his breath before elevating his tone, curling his lip before snarling at you.

“So what’ll you have me do, huh, Doll?” he spat, his eyes now agitated as he rotated his neck to rid it of a small click, “I gotta repay you somehow, don’t I? Ain’t nothin’ in this life come free, and that meal was worth a bit, wasn’t it?” He began dancing his eyes around the room, frantically moving to meet his gaze with anything other than your own. His anger began to grow more heated with each thought processing through his mind at a hastened pace.

“It’s on me. Really, I assure you-,” you began, shaking your head and reaching forward to press the heel of your palm against his re-gloved hand. You thinned your lips, holding firm to your resolve and dancing your eyes between his; which continued still to not meet your gaze. It was when you began to retract your hand from atop his that he returned your grip and firmly squeezed your hand into his. 

“I ain’t got a thing on me, Sweets. I have nothing I could offer you. I have nothing. I am nothing-,” He spoke at you, using you to verbally process everything plaguing his mind. Expecting hatred reflected back at him, as all those who listen to his woes often depict in their eyes, your empathetic gaze held no such complex. “-I-... I have-...I-...It’s all gone. Everything is gone. I’m nothing. Not a damn thing.” 

The man in front of you had tears beginning to threaten its hasty downfall from the corners of his eyes. He winced back the sting, sniffing and grunting through his nose noisily and disguised it with a cough. He attempted to laugh through the pain of processing his emotions, inhaling a shaken breath and hoarsely beginning the teeter of his laughter. He cackled his laugh, messily allowing a small amount of gloss to fall over his waterline and litter his lengthy teal eyelashes with the dewdrops of emotion.

Bowing his head, his shoulders began to quake as the mental process had finally solidified its place within the forefront of his mind. There was nothing he could do about the situation, not a prayer he could pray, nor a song he could sing to break him through this. He was completely alone. Not a single berry, not a place to sleep-.

“-It’s okay,” you quietly reassured him, stooping your head down to seek out his eyes. His gaze snapped to you, shocked at being brought back out of his circulating thoughts of doom and gloom to meet with your eyes. Kindness, sweetness, empathy and humility were the only aspects he met with your gaze as he reveled in the feeling of human contact. Your thumb circled itself over the tips of his knuckles, feeling each bone beneath stiffen slightly before relaxing into your touch. 

“I mean it, Doll. I’ve got nothing,” he whispered, his tone continuing to hold a raw raspiness beneath the hiss. A small shake in his head and a quiver of his lip had your heart swelling in pity before it began to hammer within your chest. Upon listening to his small tirade, your adrenaline propelled your small question.

“Have you got a place to stay for the night? Somewhere safe you can wake up in the morning?” Your quiet question had Buggy’s heart filling itself with dread at each beat of the rhythm within. 

“I-I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he confessed in a low tone, his eyes falling to rest on your hands intertwined on the benchtop, “This is the first time I’m spending a night in civilization for a while. I think I was going to go and sleep on the beach near the docks-.”

“-A terrible idea,” you cut him off, pulling your hands out from his and removing your apron from your neck, “There have been numerous reports of violence by the docks in the quiet hours. If you start with not much, you’re left with even less. Sometimes, you’re left with not a breath in your lungs to breathe with.” You hang your apron behind the emptied till, the berry stashed within the safe under circular and rotational cogs and locks, and brushed over your thighs to rid itself from any cotton strands fallen from the material.  

Buggy’s brows furrowed, searching within his mind for a safe alternative. He’d walked for half a day to reach this town; now too late to walk back to the grove he was sleeping within. Raking his gloved fingers beneath his bandana and removing it from his lengthy, cerulean hair; dampened with the grime, grease and sweat from weeks of ill-maintenance. 

Turning back around, you began a slow and pointed trail of reading the body language of the man in front of you. He was lost, in every sense of the word. You could see the thoughts ticking behind his teal eyes, written all over his face. You sighed, bringing your right hand up to the scruff of your neck and giving it a small squeeze.

“Look,,” you addressed him, prompting his eyes to snap up to meet your own. You offered him a small, apprehensive half-smile with your brows lifted in a small peak in the middle of your forehead, “I don’t normally do this, so please don’t think so low of me.” Buggy watched as you began walking around the bar and ushered him towards the door with a coax of our hand.

“Let’s go home, okay?” you offered, opening the door and nodding your forehead towards the threshold for him to cross it with you, “I don’t have much, but-...” as he exited the door, you closed it behind him and fished your keys out of your pocket. The jingle of a few keys echoed in the quiet of the night, the dimmed lampposts had locating the correct key taking a small while. 

“-I can offer you a bath, I think my ex has some spare clothes that could fit you if you’d like me to wash and dry what you’ve got on you?” You turned back around, noticing the bright-nosed man staring at you. His eyes were unblinking and wide, his mouth hanging slightly ajar as he processed what you were saying. You sighed through your nose, a downturned smile offered at his shocked expression.

“W-...” he began, struggling to find the words he wanted to ask you. He shook his head, stuttering on, “-Why are you doing this for me? What have I done to give you any reason to offer me kindness? Me? I’m an idiot, a fool, a no-good outcast, a good-for-nothing-.”

“-Because I know what it’s like to be all of those things and then some,” you shook your head, reaching your right hand out for him to place his left within, “And I know how hard it is to climb that mountain alone. And you, my friend, are not alone. Not tonight, anyway.” He looked down at your extended hand, reaching slowly down to take within his left and allowing you to lead him up the windy, dirt path towards where he imagined home to be. 

And home was more than what he had expected. The small, open-plan room had the kitchen, dining room and lounge space all interconnected to suit the needs of one or two people. The couch took up the majority of the space with a small side table with a draw beneath it, and a coffee table with an assortment of notes and books laying askew with pens, pencils and paintbrushes and a small pallet of rapidly drying paint. 

“I would’ve tidied if I’d known I was having company, I’m sorry,” you confessed, closing the door behind you and locking the door with your key, and a balled latch and chain. Your kitchen had a few tarnished bowls from a hastily consumed breakfast, the drying rack had a few clean dishes fully air-dried and stacked neatly.

“It’s nice,” Buggy confessed, nodding as he took in each area. He noticed a few den-den-mushi pictures printed and hanging by nails and tape throughout the walls; the corners littered with sketches of the subject matter contained within. 

“Are you an artist?” He asked, leaning down to take in more of the sketches within the margins of the images. You giggled, taking out your hair and giving it a small shake to rid the pressure gathered behind the entanglement. 

“I was once,” you confessed, “Traveled the seas with my partner. Always looking for inspiration wherever the seas took us.” You headed to the sink, pouring a small amount of water within the sink and beginning to rid the morning dishes of their grime and stack at the sink.

“And how did that go? Did you find inspiration?” Buggy asked, looking over to watch you roll your shoulders in agitation. 

“No, but he did,” you grumbled, old wounds beginning to resurface, “Several times, in fact. A rotation of inspiration hopping like rodents in and out of the house while I was working hard to support us both at the tavern. A variety of men and women-; fishmen at some stages. He would always deny doing it, until I saw the amassment of paintings he produced by rolling his and their bare skin in paint on stretched canvas over the floor, making art as he lay with them naked and thrusting against the-...” you huffed out an exasperated breath shaking your head and turning back to face the stranger you had invited into your home.

“-I’m sorry. That was likely a little much to place onto you so late,” you softened your eyes, noticing a small pink hue rising against his cheeks and ears, “You're likely exhausted. The bathroom is that way,” you gestured to the small room, “latrine, bath and shower all in there. The other is the bedroom. I’ll get some fresh sheets for you to lay on while I’m washing your clothes, if you like?” 

Buggy was processing too much information all at once. His kind hostess, an artist in disguise, was offering him more kindness than his heart could take. Not only were you beautiful to look at, but your artistry now showcased your soul beneath the surface. He hesitantly took a few steps towards the bathroom, looking over to watch you beginning to pack up the coffee table of your tools and rough sketches. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t manage to find inspiration of your own while he did all that, Doll,” Buggy murmured as he passed you. You stiffened in your movements, barely visible to the eye, before you continued collecting your arrangement. 

“If that comment was regarding artistry: inspiration can be found everywhere you look. If it was regarding looking outside the relationship to give in to lustful advances,” you huffed a humorless laugh through your nose, “One of my many flaws is I’m loyal to a fault. I don’t cheat. Not in art, not in cards, and especially not in relationships - no matter how angry he made me, nor me having the right for vengeance. Better off leaving than making the pain worse, right?” 

Buggy hummed in response, opening the latch to the bathroom door and pushing the door open. As he stepped through the threshold of the bathroom, he turned to face you, raking his eyes over your body as you reached up to place your artistic tools atop a high shelf. Your lower stomach exposed itself as your shirt stretched upwards, the small glimpse of your flesh had his heart beating and mind foggy. 

“Towels are in the cupboard beneath the sink, if you’re looking,” you called over to him, stooping below to collect a small brush that managed to escape your clutches. Buggy now had a clear view of the roundness of your subtle flesh, his foggy mind turning into the smog of lust. He shook his head in an attempt to rid it of the unruly thoughts. 

“Thank you, Doll,” he called, beginning to shut the door only to find himself halting at the last moment to meet his eyes with your smile. 

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart,” you shot him a small wink as he closed the door, leaving you to continue fussing over the mess you were attempting to tidy.

You heard the water start to run, the shower’s steam wafting below the crack in the door alongside the scents of shampoo and conditioner mixing with the floral assortment of body washes and scrubs. Smiling to yourself at the knowledge that he was using every kindness you’d offered to him, you began collecting some clothes for him to change into for the night and swapping out your bedsheets for fresh linen and toppers. 

If you were offering this man the luxury of sleeping in your bed, he should be privy to the scents of fresh-laid sheets of satins and silks. You heard the shower halt its rapid pour, the tap squeaking as your guest turned the handle. 

“Uhh…” He called, his voice halting as he gruffly cleared his throat to ensure he wasn’t imposing on anything important, “Did you say somethin’ about clothes?” You laughed, nodding as you collected a white cotton shirt and soft, gray trousers and walked over to the crack in the bathroom door. 

“I’ve got some things, if you want to trade?” You reached your hand behind the door, thrusting the clothes behind them without glancing through the crack to offer your guest some privacy. He huffed out a laugh, taking the objects before giving you the pile of his soiled clothes for you to take. 

“As long as I get ‘em back, you can take ‘em,” he laughed. You allowed a small giggle to exit your lips as you drew the items into your arms and began readying them for a wash cycle within your hand-cranked barrel. 

Filling the brim with water and some shavings of velvet soap, you lathered each item within the barrel and began rotating it within by winding the handle beside it. Yawning, you looked at the clock hanging above your small, two-burner stove and noticed how late it had gotten. You were well pleased that the big boss had decided to gift you with two days off in a row tomorrow, hopefully just enough time to sort out the remainder of household chores and aid your guest in any way you could. 

Draining the liquid from the barrel, you hung each item of clothing on a line out on the back porch. The overlook of the ocean was one of the reasons you had opted to choose this as home for yourself. The soft scent of the sea always carried towards the windows, the warmth of the sun dampened by the coolness cast from the waters on the shore. After hanging the last item, you turned to witness the guest you had invited into your house; standing tall and firm in his rigidity, hands clapping his thighs awkwardly as he danced his eyes around the room. 

“Something the matter, sweetheart?” you asked him, reentering the room and closing the back door behind you. He offered you a half-smile which almost looked like a wince as he articulated his thoughts cohesively. 

“Where am I sleeping?” he cringed, his brow knitting together as his teeth bore themselves in a straight line. You giggled, gesturing to the bedroom with your right hand. 

“Right there,” you shook your head at him, walking over to the sink and taking out a glass to fill with water. You turned the tap, filling the container to the brim with the cool liquid and turning to face him again. Maintaining eye contact, you began gulping down the water, draining it of its contents and wiping your lips with the back of your forearm. 

“And w-where-...” he began, trailing his words off as he looked around the room for a suitable explanation. You chuckled, walking over to the bathroom and readying yourself for a shower by removing your socks and placing them in the hamper to the side of the room.

“I’ll take the couch,” you giggled, stepping within the bathroom and peeking at him from behind the door. He looked beautiful; a work of art come to life. His beautiful blue hair, his rubied rotund nose, the way the white shirt and gray pants clung to his body; he was absolutely stunning. “I’ll be out in a moment, okay? Make yourself comfortable and I’ll check in on you before I go to sleep.” He nodded, his eyes a mix between sheepishness and a deep sorrow. You flashed him a reassuring smile before clicking the door behind you.

Stripping yourself of your clothes, you relished in the warmth of the scorching water drumming against your flesh and removing the grime from the laborious shift you had undertaken moments prior. You lathered soaps, scents, oils and nectars to dance and soothe your aching skin. Reveling in the final moments of the water cascading against your body, you quickly turned the tap off and began the grueling task of drying yourself enough to be able to get into your sleepwear. 

After prying the small shorts and oversized shirt combination, you stepped out of the bathroom while drying your hair with your soft, microfibre towel. You noticed the bedroom door was slightly ajar, but your guest had taken residency against your couch as he sat, staring at the sea through the window.

“I thought you’d have gone to bed by now,” you sighed your smile at him, shaking your head and approaching the blue-haired man. He turned his head over to you, eyes taking in your dressed-down form and offering you a small smile in return. 

“I couldn’t, Doll,” he shrugged, looking longingly towards the bedroom before coming back to meet your eyes once more, “That’s too good for the likes of me. Even this couch is too good for me to sleep on. I’m better off lying on the floor-.”

“-Go and take the bed,” you ordered him, pointing to the bedroom with your index finger extended towards it, “I didn’t go through all that trouble of washing and changing over fresh bed sheets, at near midnight, for you to not sleep in it.” 

“I’m not gonna sleep in the bed,” he stood to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you dangerously, “Contrary to what you might think of me, I do have some manners. It’s not right for me to take your bed and you take the couch, no matter how much I’d fucking love to sleep in those sheets-.”

“-So hop to it then,” you huffed, tapping your left foot with your eyes holding firm against his, “I got out my nicest sheets, and I sprayed the pillowcases with lavender and eucalyptus oils to aid with your sleep.” He stepped towards you, walking around the couch and getting closer to you.

“Stop being nice to me, Doll. You’ve already offered me too much, and I’m not worth all that,” Buggy continued, prompting you to step closer to him and square up with him. You looked up into his face, cocking your head to the side and pursing your lips. 

“If you feel that strongly about it,” you floated your eyes down to his lips and drew them back up to meet his eyes as hastily as you could, “Share it with me.” 

Buggy’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening at the thought. He began to stutter and stagger with his words, jumbling his disagreements with an assortment of “couch” and “floor” suggested once more. 

“No, no, sweetheart,” you shook your head, “No. You said you didn’t want me to sleep on the couch, and I refuse to waste all of that hard effort on just me alone. Knowing that the couch would be less desirable than the silks, satins and cotton blend I paid a lot of money for to get a better night's sleep.” He growled, his lip curling at the corner and his eyes narrowing.

“I snore,” He spat his taunt at you. 

“I hog blankets,” you retorted, stepping closer. 

“I grind my teeth,” he cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and arching his brow upwards. 

“I sleep talk,” you shrugged, giggling as you watched his pointed look turn more playful.

“I’m a hugger,” he sneered, his mouth pursing in the center. He stepped his body closer to yours, but still remaining a whisper away from your body. 

“I make a wonderful snuggling companion,” you leared back at him. Reaching out, you took his hands within your own and gave them a gentle squeeze of reassurance. 

“I haven’t slept beside someone in so long, I don’t think I remember how,” he confessed below his breath, hanging his head low enough he almost brushed his forehead against your own. 

You smiled, standing up on the tips of your toes to close the gap between you; closing your eyes on impact while genuinely smiling, “I need to relearn that skill, myself.” 

Buggy’s spine tingled at the contact you gave him, shuddering from his skull to his coccyx and turning his body jelly beneath your words. He smiled back, his own eyes closing as he did so. You relinquished the contact between you, rocking back onto your heels and looking up at him with fondness. 

“So, how do you wanna-...” he trailed off, watching as you shook his head and lead him by the hand into the bedroom. You placed your towel against the bedside table and pulled the sheets back, scuttling your body beneath it while watching him remain awkward and rigid watching you. 

“Get in the bed,” you ordered him with a smile, patting the vacant space on the large bed beside you. 

Buggy couldn’t stop his mind from racing far further and drawing unwritten conclusions where there ought to be none. You were so beautiful, inviting a perfect stranger into bed with you to just sleep and enjoy each other’s company, nothing more. But what if something more did occur? What if he accidentally got so excited his body didn’t only flood his heart, but the other head that did half his thinking located beneath the waistband of the borrowed trousers-.

“-Sweetheart?” You broke him away from his thoughts, his eyes not once leaving yours while they glazed over, but finally drew themselves back into reality. 

“I didn’t get your name at the tavern,” he nodded, walking over to the bed and drawing the sheets back. His nose was immediately hit with the warm and welcoming scents of soothing lavender and eucalyptus as they wafted through the smooth sheets. 

“I’ve gone by a few over my travels, and you can take your pick of them,” you smiled, relaying the amassment of names you had gathered for yourself over time. He chuckled at a few of the alliterations and augmentations as you drew the list to a close. “Although, admittedly,” you bashfully began confessing, “I do like the way you call me ‘Doll’. It seems natural, or something.” You began lying beneath the sheets, lying on your side to watch him settle himself below them, “And what do I call you?”

“I’m in a similar way, Doll,” He smiled, reaching up and moving one of your rapidly drying strands from your face and tucking it behind your ear, “I’m the flashy-fool, the genius-jester, the clown-captain, the chop-chop devil-fruit eater, the infamous Buggy D Clown, but,” he floated his eyes over your hairline and drawing them over your exposed ear and traced down your jaw to settle on your lips, “I like the way you call me ‘Sweetheart’. Makes me want to believe it to be true.” 

“Well then, Sweetheart,” you commented, prompting his eyes to once more meet with your own, “I hope you’re able to get to sleep, some. You deserve to be well rested after everything you’ve gone through.” 

“As do you, Doll,” he smiled at you, his eyelids heavy and overburdened with the sultry song of sleep lulling him into its peaceful bliss. As Buggy closed his eyes, he felt the small brush of your fingertips as they met with his in the center of the bed while listening to your breathing become heavier and elongated between each inhale and exhale. 

It was nice, lying beside someone and enjoying their presence while you slumbered. Movements were, you thought, very minimal throughout the night. The way his body was draped over yours, his arm over your waist as your back was pressed firmly against his chest, told a different story. His lips were pressed firmly against your neck, the small swell of breath hovering over your skin in a repetitive and slow manner had you almost lulled back to slumber. 

Buggy’s bottom leg was straight, his top thrust between your own, prompting your knee to bend to make room for his thigh. You noticed your bottom hand had drawn up to collect the hand lying around your waist and lace your fingertips between them while the other was braced against his forearm. The softness of the experience had your heart swell, the morning bliss of a night of slumber free from expectation from one another had a smile find residency against your lips. 

“G’mornin’ Doll,” a lazy voice drawled from behind you, his lips pressing a small kiss against your exposed skin before his mind caught up with his foggy thoughts to tell him not to. You giggled at his kiss, allowing your heart to flutter and soar at the feeling of his lips brushing against you. 

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” you whispered back at him, refusing to roll over to break away from the comfortable embrace. You felt his lengthy eyelashes dance against your neck as he fluttered them to break from his slumber and relocate his mind as to where he was. 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry, Doll!” He flinched away, breaking from your embrace and scuttling away from you. You turned over to face him, a broad smile on your face as you shook your head at him. “I warned ‘ya I was a hugger. I didn’t mean to kiss you, honest! Shit, I’m sorry. You must think the worst of me: inviting a stranger into your house after feedin’ ‘em, bathing and sharing a bed. I’m so, so sorry. It just felt natural-.”

You took the opportunity to collect his cheek beneath your palm and draw his face close to yours, pressing a small kiss against his lips; prompting a muffled groan to depart from his lips and into your own. You smiled, attempting to withdraw from your claim on his lips, only to find him angling his body above your own. He rested his weight on his forearm and deepened the kiss you invited him to share with you.

Pressing down further, he ushered you onto your back to continue to place open mouthed and dangerously seductive kisses against your lips. His chapped lips danced expertly against your own, the laziness of the morning all but halting as the fire of desire began to build between you. He collected the scruff of the back of your neck beneath his fingertips, lacing them in your hair and tugging lightly on it, eliciting a gasp of shock from you. 

Groaning against your lips, you couldn’t stop your fingers from reaching themselves below his shirt and raking your hands against the cerulean hair beneath the cotton. He jittered away, a portion of his abdomen ticklish beneath your dancing fingers. You drew them over his back, scrawling them upwards to cradle his caging body further into you as your lips continued their heated connection. 

Before you truly knew what had become of you, you found yourself collecting the cotton material of the shirt within your fingertips and prying it off his torso and casting it to the side. You took the time to enjoy the artistry in the marble figure adorned with a soft margin of blue hair dancing atop his dewy flesh. His heart soared at the feeling of adoration beneath your gaze, but quickly his pride was eclipsed with lust once more as he witnessed the small peaks of your nipples hardening against your own shirt. 

Hastily, he lunged at you, removing your own shirt as hastily as you did his; although he opted to continue by prying off your shorts alongside them. Now in your nudity, he drank in every inch of you; from your toes, up to your calves, to your plush thighs that had his jaw clenching in anticipation, to the top of your groin presented to him. You held your thighs shut, not quite exposing how truly aroused you were by his actions. He drew his eyes up to your breasts and sighed, much akin to when he took the first bite of the meal you offered him the night before. 

A simple “oh fuck,” was all it took for you to remove the band of his pants from their place on his waist, the tip of his cock meeting his lower stomach with a small slap. Your face depicted your wanton desperation, your pupils blown to eclipse the color of your irises, as your hand drew itself to circle the base of his incredibly sensitive cock. The tip shuddered as he sighed out a shaken breath, the dewy drops of precum already coating the slit with its lubricants, swaying your body to respond by coating your entrance with a fresh wave of your own slickened arousal. 

You sat in silence, enjoying the exposure of your bodies in the light of the rays of the dawn. Buggy’s hands shook a little, static of anticipation depicted in the way his fingertips opened and closed with anticipation. You were both unsure how to progress from this point; Buggy with not having access to this type of affection in a readily way, and you also not having a romantic partner since your ex left. 

“Can I-?” He began, halting his words as you spoke at the same time.

“-Do you?” You asked him just as curiously as he did, halting as you heard his voice halt. 

Both of you laughed at your awkwardness, you scrunching up your nose as you sat upright. Hooking your arms beneath his shoulders and pulling him against yourself, falling backwards to meet your head with the plush pillows once more. He chucked as you drew him in once more for another kiss, his chuckle halting and evolving into a low, shocked groan as you opened your legs to him and hooked your left knee over his right hip. You ushered him closer, his body halting its decent and him sucking in a breath at your actions. 

You broke your kiss, sensing his apprehension and gazed up into his wide, teal eyes. You darted your eyes between his and floating down to his kiss-bruised lips before back up to meet his shocked expression once more. 

“We can stop if you want?” You both asked at the same time, eyes cracking in and upturned smile as you checked in with each other. Buggy placed a chaste kiss against your nose, trailing a sporadic fluttering arrangement of kisses over to your cheek and down your jaw as you both laughed. 

“Just thought I’d give you one final out, before I s-sink-...” he began, the tip of his cock twitching itself against your clit and brushing down your glistening entrance, prodding at the opening, “-In.” He groaned as he felt your body stretch around his tip, a small gasped whine pulling itself from your lips as the initial sting eased into the pleasant feeling of stretching wide to fully accommodate more of him.

Your eyes clamped tightly shut, wincing a little as he eased more of his impressive girth into you, his own eyes rolling back as he slowly sank into you. Crying out a little at the stretch, Buggy’s breath hitched, prompting him to lean up on his hands to hover over you once more. 

“Are you okay, Doll. I’m not hurtin’ you or anything, am I? I wouldn’t bare the thought of givin’ you any pain,” he cupped your cheek, coaxing your eyes to reopen under his palm and meeting his concerned eyes. 

“I-It’s just been a little while, Sweetheart. Just need t-,” you arched your hips upwards, your needy walls sucking more of his length into yourself. A low, rumbled groan pulled itself from your guest as the small patch of hair above his shaft met with your clit; fully sinking down into you, “-to adjust a little b-before you move, okay?” 

Buggy drew in a shaken breath through his parted lips, his eyes shutting tightly closed as he relished in the feeling of your warm core sucking him in so beautifully. The contraction of your walls as you adjusted to his length had him fall from his forearms, head finding residency against your neck and placing a flurry of open-mouthed kisses against your neck and shoulder. You whimpered at the sensation of being full as he lovingly grazed his tongue over your pulse and down to your clavicle bone. 

“You can move, if you want,” you whimpered, grinding your hips upwards to coax him on to move. 

“If I want?” he murmured into your shoulder, brow arching up as he circled his hips against your core, prompting a small cry to fall from your lips in bliss, “No, Doll. I want you to want it. I need you to tell me you want me to move. You need to tell me what feels good for you so I can treat you right, okay?” You whimpered again, crying out his name as he ground himself against you in a circular motion.

“Tell me what you want,” Buggy groaned his hoarse voice into your ear, his teeth nipping at your lobe and jaw, “Tell me.” His light whine had you throw your head back as you hooked your right leg over his left hip and grasped his ass-cheeks in fistfulls to hold him against you. You relished once more in the small twitch of his cock within your walls, quivering and awaiting instruction with anticipation.

“I want you to move,” You whispered in a breathy whimper, “I want you to fuck me.” You sought out his gaze with a small nudge of your forehead meeting with his, ushering him away from contact with your neck. He moved his head, gazing down into your eyes as he tested withdrawing his cock partially before resheathing itself within your warm walls. You mewled in bliss, his shuddered low groan mixing harmoniously with your tone. 

“Oh, f-fuck-...” He uttered, again testing a small thrust within you before immediately beginning a low and rolling rhythm of pistoning within your core. The flutter of your walls circling his cock had his eyes rolling back as more groans were pulled unrestrained and crying into the room. Your tone was not much different, crying out your bliss as you watched his face begin contorting in pleasure.

“O-Oh f-fu-... ngmm-f-... you’re s-so good at this,” you complimented him, his eyes snapping to meet with yours once more as you continued to praise him, “And you’re s-so pretty.”

“P-Pretty?” he laughed, picking up his pace with the rough clap of his hips meeting yours, “You think I’m pretty-... mm-ng-... like th-this?” He picked up his pace, his balls slapping against you with each powerful thrust of his hips. He relished in fully sheathing within you, grinding his hips against you to stimulate your clit as he pulled more pretty sounds from your lips. 

“I th-think you’re beautiful,” you confessed, your voice higher than you thought it ought to be as you cried out in bliss. Your stomach began to twist and contract, the feeling of an overwhelming blissful ignition of pleasure beginning to tighten. He groaned into you, his shuddered tone lulling into a soft growl at your compliments. His balls began to tighten against his flesh, feeling the stampeding approach of his own bliss beginning to hasten. His knob twitched within you, prompting a gasp to fal from your lips as you threw your head back.

“Y-You’re-...ah-h, fuck-... gorgeous, Doll,” He complimented you, your eyes meeting as you felt the familiar tingle in your toes as they curled behind him. You smiled as you hooked your ankles within one another and slowly drew your hands up to pull his neck into you for another meeting of your lips with his. He groaned and whimpered into your mouth, his staggering movements alerting you of how close he was to his release. 

“W-Where c-can-... fuck me-e-... I-...” He continued plunging himself into your walls, his jaw staggering as his glazed eyes began to prick at the corners as he concentrated on not finishing within you, no matter how much he desired to. Holding onto the approach of your own pleasure, you refused to have him pull out of you and release his seed over your stomach or into his fist. Feeling selfish, you held a seriousness in your eyes as you uttered your commands.

“I want you to fill me. I want you to empty yourself into me and keep fucking me through it until all I can think about is how good you feel,” you demanded, rocking your hips up to meet his stuttered movement. His eyes were wide, wild and frantic as he heard your confession continue, “Don’t you dare think of pulling out. I-I’m too close for y-you to stop. Please. Please, Buggy. I n-need you.”

“O-Oh, fuck. I-I’m cumming. Doll, I-I’m-... nmngh, fuck-... I’m f-filling you up. You f-feel it? I’m d-doing what you told me,” Buggy cried your name as he rocked his hips against yours as he emptied himself into you. 

Unsure if it was either his whimpered cries of bliss, the particularly hard slap of his staggered hips meeting your own, the ropes of his thickened load splashing within your walls with his cock twitching within you, or his admission of following your orders flawlessly; you clenched around his shaft in bliss as your walls contracted with a rhythmic thump as you allowed him to usher you through the waves of your high.

“Such a good boy,” you praised him, prompting him to wince out another broken whimper at your utterance. You cried out in your own bliss as the woven coil shattered and warmth spread throughout your abdomen to coat your body with the sparked radiance of your bliss. A sharpness of a bolt of lightning from a particularly harsh snap of his hips had your eyes rolling back and mouth hanging ajar as the plush trail of blue hair met with your clit and provided stimulus to have you scream his name. 

“Oh, fuck, Buggy! I-I’m-... I’m-,” you laced your arms around his shoulders and pulled him against you, his whimpers due to the staggered overstimulation of his rapidly reducing cock thrusting messily within you. He continued to shepherd you through your high as you arched your back into him, grinding your hips and thrashing below him as your ankles unhooked from behind his back. 

After your bodies rode through their mutual bliss, you gazed lovingly into the perfect stranger now coated with the beaded dewiness of the afterglow of a passionate entanglement. He managed to halt his panting breath to smile at you, collecting your cheek beneath his palm and drawing your forehead against his own with his eyes lulling closed. 

“Was that okay?” He asked you, his cock remaining sheathed within you and twitching within your final thumps of your orgasm. You laughed at him, scrunching up your nose with a simple: “It was nice.” He laughed at your echo of his own words back at him, the corners of his eyes cracking at the corners

“Thank you for taking me in and showing me there’s still kindness in this world, especially for the likes of me, Doll,” he brushed his large nose against yours, prompting a small giggle to fall from your lips as your breath caught up with you.

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart,” you whispered up into his face, brushing your lips gently with his, “And you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.” You made to move away from him, only for him to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you in close as he could, burying his forehead into your neck. 

“I’d like that,” he hushed his tone to mimic your own as he placed one more lengthy kiss against your flesh and held you firmly. 

As the day floated into night once more, you ensured your guest was fell fed and watered throughout the hours he shared with you. His clothes hanging on the line still remained slightly damp, although you were certain he spilled a small amount of water on them to elongate a reason his stay with you further. 

Lounging casually with him on the plush sofa, you rested your head against his shoulder and began coloring a small sketch you managed to produce of him. There was something in the color of his eyes, something about the way his lengthy blue eyelashes framed his beautiful orbs within his sockets had you hypnotized as you shaded the circular lines you produced of him. 

He gazed half-lidded over your shoulder, watching as you captured his likeness within the parchment paper with pencils, brushes and charcoals littering the page. He hummed softly, pressing his cheek atop your hair as you held firm your focus against the sheet. 

Relishing in the bliss of sweet domesticity he never expected to come from a small kindness offered towards him, he allowed a small amount of sorrow to release from his heart as he heard the call of adventure on the seas whispering his name. 

“When I go,” he whispered into your hair, prompting you to halt your sketching with your ears pricking up, “Will you come with me, Doll? Sail with me and seek out inspiration?” You mulled it over in your mind, weighing up the consequences with the bliss you knew sailing brought you. 

“You’re all the inspiration I need, Sweetheart,” you confessed, leaning up to glance lovingly into his face, “And I’d be glad to sail with you. It’s been a while since I’ve traveled, you might have to help me get my sea-legs back.” You giggled, pressing a small kiss on his jaw with him sighing out a small laugh at you.

“I’d be happy to carry you everywhere until you do, Doll,” he uttered while closing his eyes, “repay you somehow for the kindness you’ve given me. Plus,” he arched his back down, brushing his lips against your neck with his mouth partially agape and leaving a small trail of his breath pricking your skin up beneath it, “I do love your legs, and I’d love to feel them wrapped around me again in any capacity.” 

Tag List: @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @feral-artistry

[thebearer]

the milestones menu: teddy's toast

prompt: you and carmen tell teddy some big news.

the rest of the milestones menu can be found here!

contains: fluff. dad!carmen x mom!reader but truly just fluff :)

3 tablespoons granulated or brown sugar

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

Pinch of kosher salt

Unsalted butter, for cooking

4 slices of brioche bread

In a small bowl, stir together the cinnamon, sugar, and salt. Melt some butter in a nonstick skillet over medium-low; you’ll want enough to lightly coat the bottom of the skillet when melted. Swirl the bread around to absorb the butter. Cook until light golden brown. Add another pat of butter. Sprinkle the toasted tops edge to edge with a thin layer of the cinnamon sugar. Cook until the underside is golden brown. 

“Daddy.” It was hardly a whisper, teetering on the edge of a hiss. Carmen’s vision blurred, still foggy with sleep, making out a mess of curls in front of him. 

“Daddy,” Teddy’s voice was louder this time, ticking up in octave the way yours did- a sweet coo you always used when you were coaxing her out of bed. Carmen’s heart swelled, she’d picked up on that. Teddy was acting more and more like you every single day, and Carmen couldn’t be happier. 

“Yeah? Yeah, ‘m up.” Carmen groaned, rubbing the heel of his hand to his eyes, rubbing out the sleep in them. His body ached, sore from the long week. Hamstrings burning in the most miserable way. “What’s up Teddy Bear? You sleep good, hm?” 

“Yeah.” Teddy giggled, pushing up on the edge of the mattress. She was still too little, which selfishly made Carmen smug. She was so big now, four years old. He blinked, and now she was her own little person. 

“Where’s Mama?” Carmen muttered, looking around. It was too late in the morning for you to be in bed. The doorway was vacant of you leaning against it, a tiny smile and cup of coffee cradled to your chest, soaking in watching Teddy and Carmen interact. 

“She’s throwded up again.” Teddy frowned. “She not feel good?” It was a question, head cocked to the side and brows furrowed.

“I think she ate somethin’. Got her tummy all messed up.” Carmen muttered, tickling Teddy’s little tummy, leaving her squealing and kicking in his arms. He hoped it would distract her. Stop her from asking too many more questions. 

“Are you hungry? Mama made you breakfast yet?” Carmen asked, sliding out of the bed with Teddy on his hips. 

“No,” Teddy shook her head, tiny, chubby fingers poking at Carmen’s chain. “She was gonna until she gots sick.” 

“Oh,” Carmen nodded slowly, opening the door. Anchovy chirped, stalking in and out of his legs, head nuzzling against his calves while he walked. He wanted Teddy down, the toddler and the cat had been inseparable since birth, but Carmen liked to tell himself Anchovy was excited to see him. 

“How about we make somethin’ that will make Mama feel better?” Carmen suggested. He could hear you in the guest bathroom, water running and vent going to drown out your heaves. It had worked at the beginning, but now Teddy was catching on. 

“What?” Teddy asked, head tilting to the side so sweetly Carmen wanted to squeeze her. 

“What do I make you when you’re feeling gross?” Carmen asked, settling the toddler on the counter, one hand on her hip to steady her, the other preheating the oven. 

“Soup?” Teddy chirped. 

“In the mornings.” Carmen tried again. 

Teddy thought for a moment, a grin spreading across her face. “Teddy’s Toast.” 

“Yeah,” Carmen smiled proudly. “You think that will help Mama feel better?” 

“Uh-huh.” Teddy nodded, curls bobbing when she shook her head. “I helps?” She pointed at herself, lips rounding cutely when she asked the question. Carmen was sure his heart might just swell and burst out of his chest, she was so cute sometimes. He didn’t know how he’d handle two. 

“Yeah, you can help. Get me the bread?” Carmen put her on the ground, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before nodding to the pantry. 

Teddy scampered past you, nearly knocking you over in the process. You looked sick, a little woozy still. It was less now, just a little upset in the morning, then you were fine. 

Carmen’s eyes flicked over to you, rounding with concern. “Hey, mornin’, baby.” He muttered, a hand running across your back when you met him. “You feel alright? You good? Need some ginger ale or Sprite?” 

“I just need water.” You swallowed the spit that filled your throat, still a little sensitive from the retching moments ago. 

Teddy swung the bread on the counter, jumping with raised arms to Carmen so he could lift her up- so she could ‘help’ him cook. 

Carmen passed you a glass of water, which you took gratefully, lifting Teddy on the counter. “Gotta sit still, Dorothea, alright? You start movin’, you’re down.” He gave her a stern look, which she just waved off with a cute nod. 

“Teddy,” You cooed, voice still a little raspy. “Did you go wake up Daddy?” 

“Yes.” Teddy nodded. “‘Cause you-you was sick, Mama.” 

Carmen’s eyes met yours, a knowing look shared between you. “I was. Thank you for getting Daddy. That was a good thing to do.” You praised her lightly. 

Teddy beamed, looking at Carmen gleefully while he cut the butter into slices. “Now we make you breakfast, Mama.” Teddy nodded. 

“Oh? What are you making me, Chef Teddy?” You asked, head leaning into the palm of your hand. 

“‘S a secret.” Teddy whispered, fingers pressed to her lips. “Surprise!” 

“Oh, it’s a surprise, hm?” You asked dramatically, hoping to reach her level of excitement. 

Carmen smirked, wrist rotating the butter on the pan. “Yeah. You’ll like it, honey. Promise.” He winked at you softly. You flushed, cheeks tingling with heat. He could still make you flustered, still make you swoon. 

“Yeah, pwomise.” Teddy added with a little bob of her head; her own nod of approval. 

“Hey, Teddy. Could you do Mommy a big favor?” You ask, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Could you get Mommy’s phone from the living room and bring it in here? Two hands, please?” 

Teddy nodded, Carmen setting her down so she took off, two feet pounding against the hardwood floors. “Do you think we should tell her?” You asked, sipping the rest of your water, eyeing Carmen carefully. 

“Tell her now?” Carmen pointed towards the counter, sprinkling the sugar mix on top of the browning toast in the pan. 

“Yeah, I mean… She’s catching on.” You mutter, hearing Teddy’s rough grab of the charger ripping out of the wall with your phone. “Might as well tell her before she starts telling everyone I’m sick and they get worried.” 

“Yeah, we-we can do that.” Carmen nodded, flipping the toast gentled in the pan. “If you want, honey.” 

“I think it would be best. Try to do it and then I can get the thing out of the closet for her.” You mutter, Teddy running back in, announcing triumphantly she found your phone. 

“Thank you, my sweet girl.” You coo, lifting her in your arms, peppering her face with kisses while she squealed and squirmed. Carmen tensed at you lifting her, eyes glaring at you in warning before turning back to the food in front of him. 

Teddy sat in your lap in the nook. You weren’t sure why you wanted to hold her, cuddle her softly while she babbled to you and Carmen, feeding you pieces of ‘Teddy Toast’ with an excited screech. You’d blame the hormones, mixed with the anticipation of telling her the news. 

“‘S good?” Teddy asked, turning to you with bright eyes- identical to Carmen’s. You wanted to melt. “Feel better?” 

“So much better.” You nodded. “How did you know this would make me feel better, hm? You’re so smart, aren’t you Teddy Bear?” You baby talk her, pressing kisses to her cheek. You know you shouldn’t anymore, she was four, growing up now, but how could you not? She was still so little to you. 

“Hey, you done?” Carmen asked, wiping Teddy’s hands when she nodded. He pushed the plate away, eyes cutting to yours carefully. “Teddy, we gotta tell you somethin’, ok? Somethin’ big.” 

Teddy stilled, ears perking at Carmen’s words, his tone. “Big?” 

“Mmhm.” You nodded, smoothing a hand down her curls. You moved her, turned her in your lap so she was facing both of you. “You know Mama’s been getting kinda sick lately?” 

“Yes.” Teddy nodded. “‘Cause you ated something.” 

“Right.” Your eyes cut to Carmen’s. “Well, not really ate something… Do you remember when Aunt Sugar had baby Jamie?” You started. 

Teddy’s lips twisted in thought, nodding. “And you remember Aunt Sugar had Jamie in her, uh, belly?” Carmen tickled her tummy softly, a lopsided smile spreading across his face at her little squeals and giggles. 

“Yeahhhh…” Teddy sang, collapsing into Carmen’s arms dramatically. 

Carmen snuggled her to his chest, nose pressed to her hair, looking at you. “Well, Mama’s been a little sick because,” You took a shuddering breath, clammy hand smoothing over your tummy. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, so nervous to tell your toddler. 

“Because Mama has a baby in her tummy.” Carmen finished it for you, found the words that were choking in your throat, struggling to make their way out. 

Teddy frowned slightly- confused. You wanted to laugh, she looked so adorable. “A baby?” 

“Mmhm,” You nodded. “Your baby. Well, our baby, but your baby brother or sister.” You and Carmen paused, looking at Teddy, analyzing her every little move- every tiny tick and quirk as she thought silently.

“There’s… There’s a baby… in there?” Teddy processed it slowly, pressing a tiny finger into your ribs. 

“Yeah, right in here. That’s your baby brother or sister.” You nod slowly, voice calm and even, hoping to help her understand. 

“That’s why Mama’s been a little sick.” Carmen added. 

“Because of the baby?” Teddy clarified. 

“Because of the baby.” Carmen nodded slowly. 

“Because you ated it?” Teddy’s brows furrowed, looking up at you. 

You and Carmen paused, looking at each other. You’d played hypotheticals for weeks now- what if Teddy was upset, how would you say it, should you tell her until you’re out of your first trimester, what if Teddy didn’t want the baby? 

You hadn’t planned for this. 

“Uh, I didn’t…” You looked at Carmen for help. 

“Mama didn’t… she didn’t eat the baby.” Carmen said slowly. 

“Then how’d it getted in there?” Teddy asked, throwing her tiny little palms out for emphasis. Not at all affected by the news of a sibling- oh no, your child was worried about how the baby got in your tummy. 

“Uh,” Carmen looked like he might throw up, looking at you for help. 

“Daddy put it-” Carmen’s eyes widened, face reddening furiously. “I mean, Daddy and I got it at the store, and-and we have to grow the baby.” You stuttered, heat rising up your own cheeks. “Like-Like the flowers we grew in the backyard, remember?” Teddy nodded. 

“It’s like that. A little baby seed that has to grow in my tummy, then you’ll have a brother or sister in a few months.” You said as calmly and confidently as you could. 

Teddy was silent, nodding slowly, finger tracing on the table slowly. “Are you- You have any questions for us, Teddy Bear?” Carmen asked hesitantly. 

“Where did you buy the seed at?” Teddy turned to look at Carmen. 

“Target.” You said smoothly, ignoring Carmen’s bulging eyes at you. “Anything else? Are you feeling ok?” 

“Can I buy a baby seed?” Teddy asked, little hands pressing into her chest. 

“Absolutely not.” Carmen scoffed, louder than he meant it to be, harsher. 

Teddy’s eyes rounded softly, shining with hurt. You glared at Carmen lightly. “No, baby. You have to be older to buy it.” 

“A lot older.” Carmen added, holding the tiny toddler closer to his chest. 

Teddy thought for a moment, silently processing everything. “Do you have any more questions, baby? I know this is a lot of big news. It’s ok if you do.” You say softly, grabbing her little hand in yours. 

“Can we go to Target today?” Teddy asked, eyes shining bright and excitedly. “Yeah. Yeah, we can.” You giggled, tickling her sides softly. You grinned, beaming at her. She looked just like Carmen, but she was just like you. You hoped the next one would look just like Carmen too, act like him too.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll Results #1 - #4 (5)

As promised, here is the first batch of conclusions I would draw from the choices you guys have made on our weekly polls! Thank you all for participating and please mind the disclaimer before reading! ^-^

I've linked all polls in the titles.

Disclaimer: All polls are hypothetical questions and different factors could influence the results, ranging from your own personality to that of how you imagine the yandere to be. Writing these conclusions is not supposed to limit you in your fun or imagination of future polls, these are only how I imagine the stories I came up with to end. If you feel like reading these results will take away the fun from you, please abstain so you may enjoy future polls, thank you!

General Warnings for Yandere, Sexual Content, Violence, Kidnapping/Stalking, Abuse, Psychological/Physical Torture, Possible Character Death Mention

Yan-Poll #1

Run and try escaping or finding help.

♡ You push the door aside, running down the hallway as quickly as you can. With your yan not close enough to react, you don't waste a second to escape. However, you didn't realize that your door being open meant any other door in the apartment would be locked tight. Frustrated, you rattle the handle to the front exit, desperate to get out, when you hear hurried footsteps behind you. Banging your hand on the door, you start to panic, hoping someone will hear your cries for help as you scream, but just moments later, a hand clasps over your mouth, and you are dragged back to the bedroom you had been locked in, crying and screaming. The bell rings, a concerned neighbor checking on the household as your yandere has to take drastic measures to shut you up, pushing a pillow over your head until you have no air left to fight.

Stay and prove I am trustworthy to fool them later.

♡ You eye the front door, tempted to try and slip out unnoticed. But you decide it's better to wait it out and not risk losing all the trust you have built with the yan until now. Going to the living room, it's empty, so you move on to the kitchen, finding your captor. You are hesitant to speak to them, but you watch them fill bowls with snacks and prepare drinks. When they notice you, they smile, pushing two bowls of gummy bears and pretzels in your hands, asking you to bring them to the living room table. Three board games are stacked on the table as you arrive, and you realize what is happening. With a grin and a sparkle in their eyes, your yan tells you to sit down and choose the night's first game. The atmosphere grows less tense the longer you two play. You win some rounds, and they praise you for it, although you notice them letting you win at least once. You tell them not to cheat, and they beat you in a brutal game of Monopoly. Reflecting on it later, it was surprisingly fun, although you feel bad for entertaining your captor. The door to your bedroom stays unlocked.

Yan-Poll #2

Let them feed you whatever it is they're serving.

♡ ♡ It's not a gourmet meal, but you eat a few spoons, relieved to find it edible. It has the consistency of soup, with chunks of meat and vegetables. The meat is tough to eat, perhaps overcooked or low-quality, but the vegetables are satisfying in taste. It seems your captor checked to get good quality food for you, even if the meat is tough. You ask what all of it is, and they smile, telling you it's a family recipe before questioning if you like it. You shrug, and they utter a short "Aw" in disappointment. However, they look content just eating with you, smiling softly throughout the meal. "Did something good happen?" you ask them, trying to make the silence less awkward. "Mhm, you could say that," they reply, but won't tell you more. You give up. Later, as the yan clears the table, you notice some blood stains on their sleeve and point them out. "Silly me," they reply, laughing out loud in embarrassment. "Must have happened when I prepared the meat." The rest of the day is uneventful, but you feel full after the meal. You hurry back to your room after whispering a very quiet "Thank you," and your captor looks after you with surprise on their face before they beam at you happily.

Refuse it, no matter the consequences.

♡ "Too bad," they sigh. "And after your best friend went through all the trouble producing the meat for this meal." You perk up at the mention of your best friend, furrowing your brows in confusion. Your captor never talks about anyone else but you two. It's very unlike them as they always seemed jealous of anyone else around you. "You asked them for help?" you wonder, perplexed as you look down at your plate. Did that mean your best friend now knew where you were? Was your best friend aware that he was talking to your kidnapper? You were probably getting your hopes up for nothing, but hearing some news—any news!—of the outside world was such a relief. Breathing out, you nod, encouraging yourself to stay positive. Pushing the plate further away, you get up, announcing, "I'll go back to my room," before walking out hungry. You can feel the daggers your captor glares into your back, but you don't care. There was still hope you could be found. There were still people who loved and missed you and would keep looking. When you wake up the next day, you find a copy of the local newspaper on your nightstand. Curious, you browse through it, eventually stumbling over a page where the police asks for help finding a missing person. The picture of your best friend make tears well up in your eyes as you try to read the text around it. There is no mention of you.

Yan-Poll #3

Settle on the floor for the night.

♡ You dread the thought of the cold, hard flooring being your only companion for the night. Looking around, there are no other blankets or pillows to take with you, so you have no choice but to find some space far away from the bed to curl up in. You hear the yan grumble as you come to terms with the awful sleeping arrangements, your body already hurting from fighting all day, but at least you'll have your peace. No way that maniac would come down here instead of using the bed, right? Wrong. Next thing you know, the warmth of your blanket falls over you, and your yan lifts your head to push the pillow under it. But what is even worse is the feeling of their body slipping next to you, settling perfectly against the curve of yours and spooning you. You want to cry as they wrap their arm around your midriff, pressing their face into your back and taking a deep breath. They say nothing else, but you know they're smiling, happy to be with you, no matter your choice.

Share the bed with the yandere.

♡ Reluctantly, you slip your legs under the covers while your yandere giggles giddily at your choice. You think about turning your back to them so you won't have to see their sparkling eyes and infatuated expression, but you decide against it at the last minute. Not wanting to be vulnerable when you could keep your eyes on them. The bed is so comfy, especially after a long, exhausting day, and although they try to inch closer, you quickly call them out and tell them to stay on their side, or you'll leave. Disappointment is written all over their face, but eventually, they concede, and you feel better with this small win. Your eyelids are growing heavy, even though you want to wait until they fall asleep, but soon enough, you are lulled into your dreams by the warmth. You don't even notice when they inch their hand towards yours, entwining your fingers and holding on to it the whole night, not minding the lack of sleep when they can watch you for hours instead.

Yan-Poll #4

Jump off the cliff into the water.

♡ There's no turning back now. You plunge into the water, so determined to end this, to finally get away. The ice-cold wet surrounds you, and your body stiffens, but you immediately paddle up towards the surface, just in time to hear and feel the splash of another person behind you. Part of you expected it. You didn't think they'd let you jump and begone, but when you force your eyes open, you see the horror etched in their face. The horror of knowing they don't have the strength to swim back up to you. Their hand is outstretched in a last, desperate attempt to reach you, but they keep sinking while your air supplies are waning. You can't help them, lest you endanger yourself. Gasping for air, you reach the surface, the experience nothing short of traumatic. You tell yourself to push on. You swim along the cliffside, hoping, praying for somewhere to get out of the water. You didn't die jumping in, but the cold and waves are a different kind of torture than you've gotten used to. Your yan comes to mind as you try to survive, and you try to push the thought away, although the guilt seems to want to kill you. When you finally reach a sandy beach, people see you from their houses and come to help you, and you think you finally made it. But they are still on your mind. They'll always be.

Go back to the yan.

♡ You can't bring yourself to leave them. Cursing under your breath, you are by their side instantly, supporting them as you ask them which way to go. Your yan smiles at you as if you have already saved them, but you notice the dullness of their eyes, and your panic makes you careless. You rush through the thicket you have come from, asking—begging for them to tell you where to go! But the yan remains silent on the whereabouts of the nearest house or phone you could use. You feel their body sacking more and more against you, their blood loss gnawing away at their life. You keep pushing on and trying to help and fix this. You don't even like them! Don't even know one good thing about them! You don't... When they call out to you suddenly and sternly, you are reminded of all the times they scolded and got angry with you. Your body halts and tenses instinctively, like so many times before. But instead of hitting or scaring you, they simply ask you to put them down. You want to argue, but looking into their eyes, you know arguing would be pointless. You settle them down on the ground, and they thank you. Tears shoot into your eyes, and you don't even know why as you hold their hand. Time passes. Time spent with them telling you how beautiful you are and how much they love you. You don't. You hate them. Even though you want to leave, you can't bring yourself to get up. You should feel the relief and happiness of finally being free when they are gone. It will take a lot of therapy to overcome the dread you feel, but first, you have to go and find your way out of the forest. Wouldn't want to join them for all eternity, right?

Yan-Poll #5

I, uh... I think I skipped 5 as a number. Honestly heartbreaking because it's my favorite number but the post doesn't exist so apparently I just went straight for 6. My bad, sorry :')

[Your own thoughts, ideas, and reactions are welcome in the comments and asks!]

[soupbowl2023]

Round Two

[riaki]

after party | satoru gojo x reader

gojo wanted to help you prepare a friendsgiving dinner, but he's a little tired n a lot tipsy.

cw: non curse au, everyones alive, shoko typical smoking, drinking, you’re married to gojo wc: 3.3k

this was supposed to be short but it just spiraled n i kind of hate it b i technically posted on the 23rd so it counts !! not proofread!

business dinners with satoru are exhausting, to say the least—you start the day early to the scent of coffee through a filter and a fresh breeze through your open window, sending your husband off to work with a hug and a kiss—maybe a promise of more if he pulls the 'five more minutes!' on you.

this one is special, though; old friends from freely youthful highschool days gathered around your dinner table on the mats of your living room floor catching up over cans of beer cold with condensation, the sound of can tabs popping and the fizzling of bubbly spirits over tables of warm food in tin containers.

geto, the tall man with dark hair and gauges, talks about how his two daughters are adjusting to city life, occasionally interrupted by cheerful brightness never dampened by adult years from haibara, an apprenticing entrepeneur under nanami who's got a thing for girls with big appetites. shoko and utahime are having a drinking contest, and mei mei's too occupied with her phone; checking stocks as her tacky nails click against the glass screen.

satoru can't cook. there's a reason why he always buys takeout when you're too busy to provide or you've already gone to sleep— he should be the picture perfect husband, because you deserve that and everything more. his only (self-perceived) flaws are his lack of alcohol tolerance and his inability to master the frying pan.

you always tell him he doesn't have to be a michelin chef— but with the way he's constantly sneaking a chocolate graham cracker from your muji snack bag or snagging the sour gummy between your teeth from your lips, he feels like he should compensate. so on this special november evening, when the hum of the city life outside your balcony gets drowned out by the cheerful mirth of a warm dinner table, he had decided to help you.

the warm kitchen had become a foodstained disaster— but with tearful round eyes and a hand tugging on your shirt, you'd resigned to helping him conquer the task of simple packaged noodles and soft-boiled eggs. he'd cut his finger— even the most capable teacher found his shortcomings against a blunt kitchen knife. needless to say you'd peppered it with kisses before wrapping a rainbow hello kitty bandaid around it.

and that brings you to the present: the result of your extensively hard work; a few soggy noodles collected at the bottom of porcelain bowls painted red on the insides in a lukewarm puddle of soup, full stomachs and a loose and welcoming atmosphere. you wouldn't trade it for the world.

you're fishing a pickled radish slice out of your bowl when satoru leans over, removing the arm that was snaked around your shoulder to drape himself on your lap, lying down on the floor with his knees propped up and his soft cloud-white hair sprawled over your thighs. geto makes a distasteful face when satoru's black socks brush against his leg. across the table, shoko knocks shoulders with utahime as she lights a cigarette; the latter's face flushes as smoke drifts past her lightly flushed face into the open window city night air overhead.

"hey, you. what's up?" you asked softly, chuckling to yourself as you set your chopsticks atop the rim of your bowl, leaning back on your arms to look down at him. he adjusts himself a little, wiggling on your lap as you caught a whiff of his beer breath and scrunch your nose.

"hiii, baby," he drawls, giggling a little to himself. his smooth, usually playful voice took on that deep tone he used whenever he was being serious, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, so you hugged him closer and ran a hand through his soft white hair, brushing your fingers against the black cloth of his blindfold. "what'cha doing?"

"i was eating. you put too much pepper in the broth, 'toru." you smiled softly, tracing the line of his jaw slowly with one finger in the way you knew he liked so much; it was obvious from the way he sighed contentedly and tilted his head into your palm. whether it be from that unfathomably sweet smile or the tender way you held his face in your delicate hands, that was up to him to ponder. next to you, haibara makes a joke— something about mei mei's stocks, and she quips a snarky retort that has him laughing raucously while nanami makes a face.

"i tried!" he protests, almost a whine as he sighs; a hand sneaks up to lift the edge of his blindfold up so his eyes meet yours, and you're left breathless. it catches you off guard every time— those endless pools of swirling blue that stare straight through you, sifting through your thoughts like a scholar annotating an open book, all heart-shaped sticky notes and bright highlighters when it came to thinking about him.

"not hard enough, clearly. but it's okay; we'll do better next time."

he just frowns again at that, sticking out his lower lip in a little pout that makes your heart squeeze. your stomach is full with noodles and broth; you don't think you could stomach another bite if you tried, and you're not one to drink especially if everyone else is. so, you let yourself indulge a little— snake a hand on the back of satoru's neck and tilt him up until he's sitting halfway up and you can easily meet his lips in a kiss.

he reciprocates immediately, hungry like he was waiting for you; you notice that he hasn't eaten much of his food yet, so maybe he was. or maybe he knows how bad it is. either way, his tongue darts out from his parted lips to flick against your own for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and draws out a teasing whine that you have to stifle because "we have company, 'toru," you have to breath as a reminder. he just laughs breathily against your lips, tasting like bitter beer and buttery vanilla as he shifts to practically sit on top of you, hands on your shoulders as his thumbs brush over your collarbone where the edge of your shirt fails to cover tantalizing skin; he's taller and eventually ends up bringing the both of you toppling down onto the mats.

your back hits the floor and a little gasp leaves your winded lungs— but satoru eagerly catches it with his lips and swallows it, like he's intent on getting drunken off his ass from you (as if he wasn't already tipsy) when he smashes his swollen lips to yours again. your hair is splayed out against the tatami mats like you're trapped in some marine watercolor painting, and for a split second satoru thinks if mermaids were real you'd be the most angelic he'd ever seen as his calloused fingers curl into the strands.

you're about to hook a leg around his waist when a shout catches your ear and you part lips with a gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as satoru promptly sits on your stomach. you let out a stuffed oomph from his weight, and watch as he slides his blindfold back on to look over at the rest of the table who're staring at the two of you like they're watching some forbidden steamy movie scene that's meant to be shielded from children's eyes.

“don’t kiss him while he’s drunk. it’s like rewarding a brat for bad behavior,” shoko says. you sit up with much effort, straining under satoru’s weight as you reach up to grab his shoulders. you miss, but he takes your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling back down as you rest your head on his shoulder. utahime has her arms lazily draped over shoko; you assume she’s drunk from that, but if you were to inspect her for long enough you’d notice her can of beer was almost completely full.

“oh, i guess you’re right.” you remarked, frowning a little and biting the inside of your cheek as you pull away from satoru and glance at him. all of the sudden he looks like he’s ready to keel over; the shadows beneath his eyes are reinforced by the alcohol in his system and it looks like he’ll need to tape his eyes open lest he passes out right on top of you. you want to avoid that, so you gently push him off, sighing to yourself.

“don’t listen to her, sweetheart. you can kiss me all you want,” he smirks, a flash of pearly white teeth that would’ve been on your neck a moment ago if not for the interruption. you just shake your head with a breathless laugh, giving him a quick flick to the forehead. before you can pull away, though— he catches your hand, bringing your wrist to his glossy pink lips and giving your pulse a quick peck. “no, she has a point.” you hummed. overhead, the light flickers a little; a moth that had flown in through the window danced about the bulb. the faint sound of car horns filters through the window along with the breeze, recycled laughter and lively chatter from bars a few stories down carried in the cool wind.

you mill about for another twenty minutes or so, content to just listen in as old friends shared anecdotes and funny stories from separate paths of life; you soon learned that nanami was planning on moving to malaysia, and shoko was due to renew her medical license this year. the beer cans built up, mixed in with crumpled napkins that had penned doodles on the rough surface and paper chopstick wrappers. somewhere along the line, satoru had fallen asleep— you had to push his unfinished ramen bowl out of the way before he knocked his head against the wooden table and spilt his meal. you frowned a little at the sight of it— you knew he'd complain about his soaked noodles and limp seaweed sheets later on. you found yourself slinging one of your jackets over his shoulders, fingers lingering over his neck, where the scratchy hair of his undercut met soft warm skin.

soon enough, dishes are piling up in the sink and calling your name; the kids see themselves home via train station, spouting something about a late night pit stop in sendai for the mochi that 'our teacher likes so much'. you consider asking them to bring some back for satoru, but you decide you'll enjoy a laugh when he tells you about how he went to school the next morning to find out for himself, and the stab of hurt that will pierce his full heart in two when he hears the news. even then, you have to shush them as they show themselves out; you can tell from the way satoru's eyebrows knit together beneath his blindfold and the pinch of his jaw that he doesn't appreciate the noise, no matter how blacked out.

the conversation dies down a little, and soon enough, everyone takes their leave one by one. it's only when you settle back down after cleaning up the bowls and putting away the cups that satoru stirs, waking up with a mumble and a huff. his hair is a disheveled mess, and there are sleep lines on his face, but he's still handsome as ever.

"baby?" his voice is hoarse with sleep and dehydration. there's a dull ache between his eyes, feeling like he'd just ran a circle around the world. you answer from the kitchen, calling his name. it's late; past midnight now. the window's still open and satoru's can of beer is still on the table, almost completely empty.

"how long did i sleep? shit, did everyone go home? 'm sorry," he groans, standing up and stretching his arms out. his shirt rides up on his shoulders, exposing the arch of his hip just above the edge of his pants. "don't worry, 'toru." you hummed, washing your hands in the sink as you look over at him. he just nods, grabbing the can and crumpling it in his hands before tossing it in the trash.

"you okay? got a headache?" you asked as he walked over to you, careful not to hit his head on the arch that connected the living room to the kitchen. when you'd first moved in with him, you had to pin a strip of bright yellow caution tape to remind him to duck his head. you smiled as you reminisced over late nights, tucked in his arms as he mused about demolishing the wall there just so he could be rid of the bruise on his temple. then again, as long as you were waiting for him to kiss it better at the end of his nine to five, he didn't mind.

he nods, and watches as an easy smile stretches across your lips; they look infuriatingly kissable under the warm glow of the hazy kitchen light, shining off the porcelain cups in the sink. he leans against the kitchen counter, cold marble feeling through the thin fabric of his shirt as you take his leftovers from the fridge and heat them up in the microwave, standing before the black glass as you watch the little plate spin inside.

there's something about moments like these; so sweet and easy with you after everyone's taken the last train home and all that's left are empty beer cans and extra bowls in the dishwasher for two people with matching rings on their fingers to take care of.

he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chin. he smiles when he feels your hand cup his cheek, and he turns his head instinctively to meet your lips in a slow, sweet kiss; a muscle memory tango between familiar lovers. when he pulls away to catch his breath, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, you're already there with your fingers, pulling his blindfold down to rest around his neck and gently rubbing the spot beside his eyes, alleviating the tension behind them. it's unspoken moments like these that he loves the most in your relationship. making a mess in your kitchen is a close second.

it's a slow, easy night after a special get-together when the microwave beeps and you take his noodles out, bringing them to the table as you sit down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his side as he gets a bit of breaded tonkotsu crumbs on his cheek and insists you wipe them off for him like he's some oversized baby. you wash some cherries in a green plastic bowl, competing to see who can spit the pits into the trashcan without missing. in the end, he lost the game of rock paper scissor and was resigned to pick up the missed pits on the floor.

he's still wearing your jacket like a cape and even though it's far too small for him, he insists on keeping it with him when you go out onto your balcony to finish the last of a bottle of sake together, listening to the melody of the wind in the trees that line the sidewalk and the permeating hustle and bustle of the city, even when it's so late at night it could be considered early morning.

he swipes the cold bottle from your hands, finishing the last drops from the matte glass before letting it dangle between your fingers. and you're expecting it when he catches your arm to pull you into another kiss; he tastes like peaches and wine and a little bit of soup broth. it's slow, and easy, because being with him has always felt as natural as breathing, and being with you has made it easier for him to breathe, like the iron weight on his lungs melts away in the face of your unconditional warmth and care. the cool wind blows your hair in front of your face, and he laughs that charming boyish giggle as he tucks it behind your ears and scoops you up in his arms.

"i don't like sharing you with a sake bottle," you said, pointedly looking at the glass in his hand. he just grins, looking down at you for a moment. he can almost see it again; you, in that gorgeous white wedding cloth. he was carrying you bridal style in the same way now, when you'd decided to grow old together and host special business dinners as a couple in your shared apartment.

"don't worry, love. you're sweeter than any spritz," he laughs, stepping inside again and closing the door behind him.

it's routine, and it's easy, getting ready for bed with him, laughing when he pushes his hair back with a headband, looking like a pretty little princess. you suggest him getting a mullet, and he shushes you by shoving your toothbrush on your tongue, getting a mouthful of mint. the warm water rushes over your fingers before you dry yourself off, wiping your face and putting the towel away only to be met with the equal warmth of his lips on your forehead, peppering you with kisses.

you slip into the covers, still pleasantly cold as you watch satoru sit up and take his shirt off. he lets you peel the rainbow bandaid on his finger off, tossing it in the trash before pulling you into his arms, right where you belong the closest to his heart. "don't cut yourself like that again, okay?"

"it was an accident, baby." he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes. he reaches over to ruffle your hair affectionately and makes a joke about having you suck his blood like a vampire, tooting about how sweet it would be. "besides, i don't need to be careful if you're there to patch me up, pretty. shoko has nothing on you!"

he plays with your hair as you catch him up to the conversations he'd slept away; mei mei had left early when you'd given him your jacket to envelope him in your scent, muttering something about cheap perfume and worthless soggy noodles. he likes to play with your jewelry, you notice— fiddles with the ring on your finger, cupping your hands in his palm as he tucks his face into the back of your neck.

at one point, he asks you to do his hair, so you oblige, rolling him over onto his stomach and clambering on top of his waist. you braid his white strands into cute little pigtails best as you could manage as he tells you about his dream; something about harassing nanami in malaysia and a sunset kiss under crystal clear beach water. it sounds nice, and when you're done with his hair you find it easier to just massage his shoulders and listen to the smooth droning of his voice.

soon enough, you're both warmer than the lukewarm buzz of beer in your veins, and he doesn't remember if he fell asleep first or not, but the gentle melody of your voice haunts him in his dazed sleep as he curls around you.

business dinners really are exhausting— he's left wondering how you pull it off the morning after when he's hungover and the cut on his finger is infected— clearly, the hello kitty bandaid wasn't enough to cut it. the only reasoning that he explains to you as you take your morning shower together, fingers running through your hair, is that you didn't kiss it enough. maybe that's why his soup had too much pepper and he didn't know how to cut the cucumbers.

he's still an amateur, so he'll leave the cooking to you. maybe next time he'll pretend the takeout he grabbed on his way home from school was handmade, though he doubts his friends will ever believe him, or his students after he demands they buy him kikufuku as compensation for leaving him out the night before.

ignore the ep that came out today! everyone’s alive and well. trust my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[justbreakonme]

Signs of Change

Whumpee didn’t like it, when the seasons started to change. It still made him uneasy, knowing just how cold the nights could get and just how precarious his position could be. He was only safe as long as he was good, and the outdoors had no mercy.

But Caretaker did.

“Hey, Whumpee, why don’t you come in here? It’s warmer, since the stove’s going.” Caretaker’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he obeyed.

When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, the warmth enveloped him immediately. There was a large, silver soup pot boiling away on the stove, and the smell of onion and garlic and herbs and all sorts of things instantly made his mouth water.

“It needs to simmer for a bit longer, I think. Do you want to come sit with me?”

Whumpee nodded, and took a seat where he always did, across from Caretaker at the old wooden table.

“Not a talking day, huh?”

He shook his head, rubbing a fist in a circle over his chest.

Sorry.

“It’s fine, you’re good. I just like to check-in so I know.”

Whumpee couldn’t ever explain why sometimes words just, failed him. But, after his old owner, after being silent for so long, he sometimes felt…stuck.

“Do you feel like playing cards? I think we have enough time for a round of war…”

Whumpee nodded, dutifully turning to grab the cards from the little shelf in the corner. He liked cards. War was the first game they had played together, back when he’d first been bought rescued.

Caretaker had made it very clear that he wasn’t owned, anymore.

But he hoped maybe, maybe if he was really, really good, he could be. He had tried, once, to ask what he could do, if anything, to earn being owned again, but, the words had died in his mouth and he’d gone silent for days.

He understood why they didn’t want to own him, he wasn’t really worth very much. But, sometimes, he let himself believe that between him trying his very hardest and Caretakers inexplicable mercy, there might be a chance. Someday.

Caretaker handed him a stack of cards, and he brought the tips of his fingers to his chin, hand open and palm towards himself, then moved his hand out in front of him, almost in a swinging motion.

Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” Caretaker smiles as they play their first card, and he follows suit.

The game goes by quickly, and soon, the oven timer went off, making them both jump.

“Here, we’ll just scoot these over a bit and we can play while we eat. Would you grab the spoons?”

He nodded, carefully moving his pile of cards to the side and heading for the silverware drawer.

As Caretaker ladled out the soup, he placed a spoon at each of their spots, then, unsure if he should sit or wait for the next task, he hovered between the drawer and the table, wringing his hands.

As they turned to grab the bowls, they noticed his hesitation. “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring the bowls over.”

Another tap-then-outward gesture of thanks, and he sat back down, watching as they carefully ladled out two bowls of steaming soup.

Carefully, they carried one bowl at a time to the table, oven mitts on.

“Ooh- don’t try to hold it, it’s super hot.” Caretaker dodged where Whumpee had tried to help set the bowl down, instead opting to set it down on the edge and scoot it over so it didn’t spill.

He rubbed his fist over his chest in a circle again, more frantic this time.

Sorry, sorry!

“You’re good, I just didn’t want you to burn yourself,” they returned to the table with their own bowl, tossing the oven mitts onto the spare chair after settling in, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He tried to mimic Caretaker, who was blowing gently on their soup, but the lump in his throat got in the way.

He wished, as he often did, that he could speak without speaking, in more ways than literally. He wished he could make them know things.

If he was patient and waited for his voice to return, or if he went to get one of the whiteboards Caretaker kept laying around for him, he could tell him that he would do anything for them. That they had his loyalty and devotion, his mind, body, and soul.

But he couldn’t make them know it the way he did. It snuck up on him, in moments like these, then hit like a tsunami.

His stillness must have caught their attention because they looked up. “You okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard and smiling, then gave a timid thumbs up.

You don’t own me, but, I belong to you.

They grinned, giving him a thumbs up back, and another tsunami took his breath away.

But, that was fine. He’d let the soup cool on its own, and they would play cards, and for the first time in a very long while, he was able to forget the changing seasons and the morning frost.

It couldn’t touch him here.

Caretaker wouldn’t let it.

[archermind]

sickness and soup

Spencer Reid x f!Reader

Description: You have called Hotch and told him you are unwell, making you unable to come into work today. Soon after you ended the call, there was a knock at your front door… to your surprise it was Spencer. Spencer was tasked by Hotch with the role of making sure you get better.

Content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Author Note: this is my first time having a go at doing this. If anyone has any suggestions or feedback, feel free to offer it to me. (pls i beg lol) i hope you enjoy <3

Working in the BAU can be pretty intense. Some of the main things I find difficult about my job are cases involving children, when the unsub is a sick and twisted psychopath and the worst of them all… calling my boss when I feel sick. I will be honest there is no easy way to call Aaron Hotchner and tell him you can’t make it to work. I would drag myself limbless and bloody into Quantico just to avoid having to tell Hotch “I can't make it in today, sorry!” 

After the long awkward phone call of having to explain to Hotch why I will be missing the day off work, I sat pondering if I was just a hypochondriac or better yet a baby to the familiar enemy of every woman, my period. I had been up through the night, hurling acidic bile up into the toilet bowl from the pain of womanhood tearing up my insides. Periods are a bitch. 

My phone pinged from the living room as I was brushing my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time. My feet plodded from the bathroom through to the living room. I smiled as I saw the notification on my phone. ‘Garcia<3’. I opened the message to be met by a photo of her eating soup. ‘Missing you girl!’. I smiled as I responded with my own photo of me sad pouting and sent her a message of ‘i wish i was there :(‘. 

I threw my phone onto the couch making my way to my room. I sighed as I approached the huge pile of recently washed laundry which was dumped on my designated, ‘I'm too lazy to put these away so I will just dump them here’ chair. I rummaged through the pile pulling out any oversized shirt and shorts I could find. Today has not gone how i anticipated, all i wanted was to miraculously be rid of pain and be sat at the round table hearing of the next kidnap, dismembering and murder. I groaned as I attempted to atleast make my bed but was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I gave up, throwing myself onto the bed like a child throwing a tantrum. 

Light knocks woke me from a deep sleep that I had no recollection of falling into. I quickly jumped up and made my way to my front door. I looked like a mess so when I opened my door to see Spencer Reid… if I didn't already feel like curling up in a ball and dying, I do now. Ever since joining the BAU i couldn’t help not develop a minor school girl like crush on him that only Penelope knows about. 

“Uh… Spencer.. Why are you here?” I questioned him, trying to hide my shameful appearance behind the door. I attempted a smile despite the shock I was in.

“Hotch told me i had to come check up on you but before i left Garcia told me to trust her and that this would make you feel… in her words ‘a hundred times better’” Spencer gave a warm smile as he forced a tub of soup towards me.

“Well it looks like there is enough for two. Would you like to maybe come and have some?” I asked him nervously as I shifted on my feet. 

He nodded as I opened the door wider to allow him to enter. I trailed behind him as he made his way to my living room sofa. I anxiously waited for him to say something to break the silence. It was unusual for Spencer to stay silent for this long. For as long as I have known Reid, it seemed he always had something on his mind that he was ready to ramble on about. 

“Erm.. you will have to mind the state of my apartment” I coughed as my mouth went dry from nerves, “i never really have guests and i haven't had a great morni-” i suddenly was cut off by Spencer as he started to ramble like i expected.

“Did you know that it only takes one droplet of contaminated air to catch an illness?” Reid cleared his throat before carrying on, “and i will be honest with you Y/N… i am not entirely sure why Hotch sent me because he knows i don't like germs”, i watched as he fidgeted with the buckles on his satchel bag. 

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I realized Hotch didn’t tell him why I was actually not at work today. I started laughing, causing Spencer to avert his eyes to stare at me. Internally I felt bad but I couldn't help but find the poor boy sitting worried on my sofa humorous for his own unknowing. 

“Y/N, i’m being serious. It is not funny. Did you know most serious diseases are caused by airborne illnesses!” Spencer blurted out upset and confused.

“Spence… I'm not contagious." I started, as he gave me a confused look “i am ill from having really bad period pains” I announced as I hung my head in shame having to tell Spencer of all people that currently I am menstruating. Even though it is a natural human thing and I can't control it. 

To my surprise, Spencer stood up and walked towards me engulfing me in a hug. I found it weirdly unexpected. I half anticipated Spencer to run out the door and for the hills at the thought of me… bleeding. However, I found myself comforted by the warm hug. I was still so confused.

“I apologize Y/N if i made you feel horrible by technically categorizing you as contagious and disease-ridden” Spencer started chuckling as his chin rested atop of my head. I smiled at his apology. Although he never made me feel insulted, it was sweet to know he cared about my feelings enough to apologize if there was a misunderstanding. 

I walked into my bathroom, the room was dark but drowned in ambient orange candle lighting. The bath was full of bubbles and the steam from the hot water engulfed the room, inviting me in. Spencer had done all of this while I was finishing my leek and mushroom soup. Although it sounded disgusting, I found myself texting Penelope begging her for the recipe. The response was almost better than the soup ‘a chef never spills her secrets but for you my lovely… ofcourse’ i hummed gleefully as I placed the phone on the counter of my bathroom sink. I tore every item of clothing off and made my way to the calming bath. I settled myself within the bubbles as i leant back to rest my head and close my eyes. It was relaxing and just what I had needed. 

Time passed delicately, but soon enough the water lost its comforting warmth and my fingers' skin was being over-dramatic, wrinkling like I had been within the water for eighty years. As I stepped out of the bathtub, a faint knock was sounded from the door. 

“Are you okay Y/N?” Spencer shouted from behind the locked door sounding worried. 

“Yeah, I'm fine Spence.” i responded smiling at his caring nature

“Just checking because on average about 10 people die each day from unintentional drowning in swimming pools and bathtubs” Spencer rambled and I smiled in adoration, while I got dressed, that it always goes back to statistics with him. 

I opened the door and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I'm not about to become a statistic today”. 

Spencer returned the warm smile before guiding me back to my living room. I gasped at the sight. Spencer had set up a blanket and some pillows on the sofa. While also supplying me a heating pad, chips and chocolate. I turned to him and placed a hand over my open mouth. 

“Thank you spence!” I wrapped my arms around him tight and placed my head on his chest. I couldn't believe how thoughtful and understanding he had been. “This means alot you know.” I spoke muffled. 

“You deserve it Y/N, you are one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know at the BAU. i don't think you realize how much we appreciate you sometimes” Reid explained, “ or how much your company and thoughtfulness means to me Y/N”. 

I looked up to see Spencer turn a deep shade of crimson as he blushed. I smirked as I didn't know he even had it in him to hug a girl let alone compliment one. I had a small sense of happiness, boastfulness and achievement that that girl was me. The rest of the day, Spencer stayed to watch movies, talk and keep me company. That was until we both fell asleep… wrapped in a blanket… in each other's arms.

[miaoua3]

(pairing: hoshi x noona!reader)

there is a superstition that if you spend the first snow with the person that you like, that the new love will blossom between you two, just like a flower after a long and cold winter.

“and then as i jumped up because- hello? they just dropped a fake spider in my lap, i hit my knee in the table, which resulted in the bowl full of hot soup to spill…directly onto wonwoo’s lap!”

you burst out laughing as hoshi finishes his story about one of the many times when they tried to prank him while drunk, which inevitably ended up in a chaos.

you had to stop walking for a second from how hard you were laughing at one moment, wiping away the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes.

hoshi just stands there, chuckling to himself as he looks at you fondly, waiting for you to collect yourself. the look in his eyes…is something that you weren’t sure how to interpret.

to be completely honest, lately you’ve been questioning your entire friendship with hoshi. see, sometimes people can be really blind to the things that are right in front of them, like you with your feelings for example.

you have known hoshi for years now, and in your eyes he has always just been this dude that was always fighting to get your attention, pulling on your shirt while calling “noona! noona!”. up until recently, you have always just thought of him as your cute little junior, maybe a friend even, but nothing more than that.

you always thought he was a little too young and little too immature for you.

until one night a few months ago, when he bravely stood in front of you and protected you from the creep who has been trying to hit on you. the way he behaved, the way he spoke in his deep voice…

it made your heart skip a beat.

and ever since that day, you have started looking at him differently, and your heart hasn’t stopped skipping a beat every time you would see his cute smile.

so here you are now, coming from what you first thought was a regular dinner two friends would get, but which definitely progressed into something closer to a date.

after eating some delicious chicken from your favourite diner, you two just started strolling around, until you realised that it was entirely too late and that you should go home.

hoshi, intending to make your heart collapse apparently, offered to walk you home, saying he could never leave his noona to walk alone in the night.

as you continue to walk, you continue to talk, telling each other stories that are definitely not as funny as you make them to be.

your mood sours the moment you round the corner of your street, realising that your…date will have to come to an end.

walking up to the entrance of your building, you stop on the third stair before you turn around to look at him. standing like this makes you realise just how tall he is, because it takes you standing on the third stair for you two to be similar heights.

he smiles gently at you, his cute eyes creating cute little crescents as he does.

“well. this is you.”, he pauses awkwardly for a few seconds before he continues “so i was wondering, would you maybe be interested in going to that restaurant on the other side…”.

his voice trails off as he sees you slowly walking back down the stairs, until you’re standing right in front of him, you beautiful doe eyes looking up at him expectantly.

hoshi, being the weak man the he is, lets his eyes fall to your plush lips, dry from the cold of the early winter’s air.

he starts to panic a bit, his breathing coming to a stop while his heartbeat skyrockets.

you look at him, the only thought on your mind being kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

your hand unconsciously grabs the hem of his jacket, fisting it tightly as you look at his dazed expression.

hoshi looks at you for a second longer, before he groans and utters “what the hell.”.

and then he’s grabbing your cold cheeks in his hands and swooping down to kiss you breathlessly.

as hoshi kisses you on the doorstep of your apartment building, tilting your head so he has better access to your mouth, kissing you both so sweetly and so hungrily, a few snowflakes start to fall from the sky, inevitably landing on his eyelashes.

he breaks the kiss apart to look up at the sky, his breath coming in puffs, before he looks down at you and giggles a bit.

as you join his giggles, you lean your forehead against his, your hand unconsciously seeking out his own.

you weren’t sure if this was officially your first date or not, but you knew one thing for sure.

you were definitely looking forward to the next one.

[beeslibrarycorner]

HELLO,,, I DESPERATELY NEED SOME FLUFFY PREWAR COOP BEIN SICK WITH SOME FLU 😭😭😭 his love is just insisting he stays home so she can take care of him 💝She feels his forehead and hes got a temperature, its obvious hes feeling like garbage but he insists on working. She calls his doctor, comes to look at him and he's told to stay at home, lay in front of the TV with some good food. cuddling ensues and she dotes on him cus HE DESERVES IT 💞 messy bedhead cooper with jammies and blankets FLUFF 🥺

Janey was at her mother’s house when Cooper had started to feel under the weather. It’s was Monday night and you were noticing that cooper was not acting like himself. His face was flushed and he was very lethargic.

“Coop? Are you feeling ok honey?” You asked as you watched him drink some water from your seat on the couch. As he walked closer you got a better look at him, his eyes were glassy and you could hear how stuffy his nose was.

Next day cooper was insistent that he was fine even though he looked like he had a fever (you were right) and that he sounded like his nose was full of mucus (you were also right)

You called the doctor and when the doctor came and checked him out, the doctor expressed all the things that you feared. Cooper had come down with the flu and was instructed to get acouple of days of rest.

You beamed and thanked the doctor, as you walked him out the doctor told you all the things to do to help cooper get better.

When you got back inside you put your hands on your hips as you watched the man that was curled up in the small love seat. “It’s freezing in here honey can you turn the heat up?” He asked and you frowned.

“Honey it’s like 80 degrees out, let’s get you into something more comfortable” you said leading cooper to the bedroom. You helped him into some pajamas and set him up on the couch in front of the tv.

While he was preoccupied with the tv after he took the first round of meds you started making soup for him. You checked on him and he had fallen asleep mouth slightly open and snoring softly.

When the soup just needed to cook you checked on cooper again, this time he was awake and he was reaching for you. “Can you sit with me for a second sweetheart, I miss your warmth” he pleads like he’s going to die if you don’t sit with him.

As you sit down cooper inches closer so that he could lay his head on your lap. “How are you feeling honey?” You asking him and he groaned in reply, you pouted and started playing with his hair.

Some movie was playing in the background, but all you could focus on was coop and how tired he looked. You stayed there until you needed to turn the stove off and put the soup in bowls.

When you placed the bowls down on the table cooper was already there. You ate together and after he thanked you for making him the soup.

After you got the kitchen cleaned up you like to cooper who was still at the table, looking out of it and in need of a good nights sleep.“Let’s get you to bed cowboy” you said and he chuckles smirking up at you.

You both brushed your teeth together and tucked him into bed, shushing him when you pulled away telling him you needed a shower. You went to take a shower, got into some pjs; and slid into your side of the bed.

Cooper immediately moved to your side holding you close and nuzzling his head into your shoulder. You rubbed his back and cradled his head to your chest. “Thank you for taking care of me sweetie, I’m so grateful to have someone like you in my life.”

The two of you fell asleep together, little does the both of you know that your getting the flu next after cooper gets better.