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idyllic-ghost · 5 months ago

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Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

feedback is always welcomed!

taglist:

@enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01,

@loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag,

@d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303,

@lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz,

@cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs, @dokyeomkyeom,

@kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1 @iamawkwardandshy, @wonuskie

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hermitadaymay · 1 year ago

Text

WELCOME TO HERMIT-A-DAY MAY 2024!

I'm thrilled to bring this challenge to you all for the second year in a row! Hermit-a-Day May is a challenge inspired by Hermitober, but with a twist: instead of theme prompts, we focus on a specific Hermit every day!

THE RULES: 1. Any type of fanwork is welcome so long as it features, or is otherwise inspired by, the Hermit of the day. 2. Tag #hermitaday to have your fanwork reblogged, or submit it directly to the blog (Please note that while I recognize the value of fanworks involving more mature themes, and they can certainly count toward challenge completion if you're keeping track for yourself, content on this blog will be kept "PG-13" so that all may enjoy.). 3. Fanworks for one Hermit posted after the day rolls over to another Hermit's day (per the US Central time zone) will be reblogged in a big queue in June. 4. I am not interested in seeing captions or tags in which you disparage your art/skills. We're all improving all the time. Be kind to yourselves.

WHY SHOULD I PARTICIPATE? To show love to every Hermit, from the most to least subscribed, from those who have been on the server from day one to those who only joined this season! And because challenges are fun! And because, this year, there's an extra dimension to the event: a fundraiser for Gamers Outreach, featuring art incentives by @rendiggitydog and @belmarzi.

GRAND TOTAL INCENTIVE: For every $150 we raise for Gamers Outreach, belmarzi will make 10 seconds' worth of animatic, featuring as many Hermits as she can fit into the time frame.

INDIVIDUAL DONATION INCENTIVE: For every $50 (formerly $65 - changed 5/3) you personally donate to the fundraiser during the month of May, Rae rendiggitydog will draw you a shaded flats commission of a Hermit of your choice.

WHO’S RUNNING THIS? Hi! My name is Luna! You can use she/her, he/him, ze/hir, or ro/ros/roseself pronouns for me. My main blog is @as-if-unreal. Yep, before you ask, it really is just me, but to be fair I've had a lot of help.

BONUS SUNDAY PROMPTS EXPLAINED UNDER THE CUT

TFC - May 5th While he may no longer be with us physically, TFC left behind him a legacy of quiet care and good humor, and Hermitcraft would not have been the same without him.

FRIENDS OF HERMITCRAFT - May 12th There are plenty of shows, podcasts, competitions, other servers, and more woven into the internet ecosystem around Hermitcraft, and plenty more people involved in them: just as a small number of examples, Season 9's Rift opened up to a whole server of Emperor friends, and there are always allies to be made in MCC and enemies to be made in the Life Series. Today is for celebrating all of those who, while they may not be Hermits themselves, exist and entertain in proximity to them.

FAVORITE "ALT" HERMIT - May 19th HoTGuY and Poultry-Man. Helsknight and Evil Xisuma. Renbob and - look, you get the idea. This server is full of theater kids ready to toss on an alternate skin and play into a brand new character at the drop of a hat. Who's your favorite?

GROUPS AND COLLABS - May 26th This month is all about one Hermit a day... but what we really love is when they interact with each other. What does your favorite duo or group of Hermits get up to together?

#hermitaday #hermitcraft #hermit-a-day may #hermitcraft smp #zedaph #keralis #skizzleman #zombiecleo #impulsesv #grian #hypnotizd #smallishbeans

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crescenthistory · 6 months ago

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2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" loyal, but he is NOT "your sister is off limits” loyal

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulus) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

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romanteacism · 20 days ago

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Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Broken

Synopsis: What is one more broken promise and two more broken hearts? Warnings: Angst. PREVIOUS PARTA/N: They're gonna be fine-- keep the faith

“I thought she’d be prettier,” Aemond let out a grievous breath, his hands balled tightly in a fist as his eye rolled at the words his betrothed whispered to him when you entered the great hall with your family. His house’s place was tucked by the farthest corner of the halls, but even if a crowd of attendees hid him away from your view, his lone eye would still succumb to seeking you out. After two years, he felt his heart finally announce its presence again, even if he only caught a small glimpse of you. He felt his knees weaken and his hands grow colder as he saw the clear melancholia in you, even if a pretty smile was on your lips. He always knew what you hid beneath the surface. How could he not?

“It is treason to say such a thing about the princess… they could take your tongue for your words—or even place you in the black cells for a month,” Aemond muttered as your father, the king, signaled for his guests to take their seats. He placed his gaze on the table, resisting looking at you because he was uncertain what he would do if he stared at your face much longer. However, Lady Cassandra looked upon you in curiosity. “Well, it’s the truth,” She whispered. “Everyone in the kingdom speaks of her as if she is the most beautiful princess there ever was… but if you ask me, she looks quite plain.”

Aemond tried to rein in his anger, but he could not do so because even after all these years, he could not stomach anyone speaking badly about you. “Hold your tongue,” He seethed quietly, fire behind his lilac eye, and Lady Cassandra looked quite alarmed at the tone of his voice and the severe expression on his face. “My darling, no need to be so serious… none could hear me. Though I must say, I am touched that you are so concerned about your beloved betrothed,” Lady Cassandra grinned as she took Aemond’s disposition as concern rather than annoyance. Aemond felt his eye twitch at Lady Cassandra’s words. Aemond chewed on his cheek as your father began to speak; everyone in the hall turned upon their king except him.

True to your eldest brother’s words, he did sit before you and hid the view of the guests, but most importantly, Aemond. You fiddled with your fingers in anxiousness and prayed that the feast would pass quickly. “Do not fret, sister; you could retire after the second course,” The prince whispered beside you, and you could only give a small smile of gratitude. However, that smile was quick to wilt as you realized that before the feast could actually commence, those who sought your father’s blessing for their marriage were to approach the long table. As your brother saw the clear alarm in your eyes, he too realized what was to happen next. “I… I shall be fine, brother.” You managed to say, but the validity of your words was debatable.

You tried to keep your mind preoccupied as the lords and ladies who asked for your father’s blessing for marriage began to queue before the long table. Your eldest brother began to speak to you and your brother, offering any anecdote just so you would not let your mind wander towards your past knight, who stood with his betrothed at the end of the line. When he was drawing closer, your fingers nervously traced the embroidery of your dress, bracing yourself as you would once again be faced with the love you had lost.

Luckily, your cousin Eliza suddenly appeared, in her arms was her babe, and she quickly excused you from the long table as she had been privy to the truth. “Come, cousin, my son has been desperate to spend time with his aunt,” Eliza smiled softly as her daughter coed in her arms, ushering you to stand and offering an escape from facing Aemond.

Aemond, who stood at the end of the line, felt his breath fall short as he saw you stand, your gaze planted on the babe in Lady Eliza’s arms. This was the closest he had been to you for two years. He was finally ready to face you, to look into your enchanting eyes once more, but his chances were gone as you had left, just as he did.

“Thank you,” You said quietly as you took Eliza’s son into your arms, the tot quickly settling into your hold. You need not utter why you gave thanks, as Eliza quickly understood and took your hand and gave it a loving squeeze.

“Oh, by the way, cousin, I wish for you to meet Lord Andrew. He’s my dear husband’s cousin,” Eliza smiled, and as the words left her lips, the young lord stood. His stature towered over those who sat at the long table and over you as well. Eliza knowingly smiled as she caught the way your eyes slightly widened when you saw her husband’s cousin. With his tall frame, warm brown eyes, and sand blonde locks, he looked exactly like the man you had envisioned and told her you would marry when you were younger. Eliza would like to believe it was fate. Though she had once wished it was Aemond you would end up with, it would seem that was just a fantasy, as he was now lined up before your father to ask for his blessing with his betrothed on his arm.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, princess.” Lord Andrew smiled and took your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. For the first time in two years, you feel the familiar heat on your cheeks and the slight flutter in your heart as your eyes meet those of warm brown eyes.

Aemond, who was standing before your father, saw the scene, eye wide and confused. His mind was running with questions that no one could answer. For the past moons, he and the whole of the kingdom believed that their beloved princess was married. But you were still here, in your father’s house. No prince nor lord escorted you through the castle walls, nor did anyone see you with another man who was not related to you. Could it be true that your hand was not taken by another? That you had kept your promise to him that you would never take another that was not him? Aemond could not stew in his thoughts any longer as the king was now before him, and he and his betrothed were asking for his blessing, but all he wanted to do was run to you and leave all his misguided actions behind.

As the feast went on, Aemond could not help as his eye kept glancing in the direction of the princess. She forwent her proper place by the head table and instead occupied the seat next to a lord in a place that seems to be connected to Lady Eliza’s husband’s house. Aemond watched steely-eyed as the lord leaned forward and invaded the princess’s space, a smirk on his lips. Aemond had thought you would back away, put further space between you and the lord as you often did, but you only mirrored his smile, and he dared say he saw you mimic the lord’s movements and lean further as you two engaged in a conversation that was meant for you two alone.

Aemond gripped his chalice tightly. Aemond had always resisted jealousy before, even if he often failed. But now? All he wanted was to stew in his jealousy. Nurse the pit in his heart as you laughed with a lord. And curse the day that he decided to leave you. However, Aemond could do no such thing, as all he felt was his own doing.

You resisted turning towards the direction of your past knight. He was on the other side of the room, yet you could still feel the familiar burn of his lilac, icy stare. Questions infiltrated your mind— the same questions you had years before. Why did he leave? What have you done wrong? Why had he not returned your letters? All of these questions were never given an answer, and you would think that after years of silence, you would have given up and decided to move on. But who could truly move on from their first love? So instead of giving in to your wants to march over to the other side of the hall and demand Aemond’s answers, you preoccupied yourself with Lord Andrew. If Aemond had clearly moved on, so should I. You thought. You breathed in deeply and decided that it was truly better to forget about him because if you dwelled further, the hurt in your chest might never leave, and it only doubled each time as you thought of him and his soon-to-be lady wife.

“Might be too forward of me to ask if we could break fast tomorrow, princess?” Lord Andrew questioned sheepishly, his eyes going downwards in shyness, and you bit your tongue. “But we had not even finished our supper, my lord,” You say, eyes glancing towards the plates before you two that were barely touched as you and the lord had been too preoccupied with speaking and getting to know one another.

“Oh— I… apologies, princess, I did—“ You bit your lip to prevent the amused smile that wanted to come forth as the lord began to ramble on his apologies for being too forward, and his fear of offending and scaring you off was evident in his eyes. You licked your lips and took hold on his hand that reasted atop teh table as a signal for him to cease fretting and voiced out that you would very much like to break your fast with him on the morrow but what you liked most that for the first time in two years, you found someone who could bring your thoughts away from Aemond.

When Aemond witnessed that you bestowed your touch upon another and how his stare could not persuade you to look upon him, he quickly stood and excused himself from the house’s table and left. Desperately wanting to erase the scene he had witnessed in his mind and expel the rage and hurt he had felt because he had to come to the truth of his actions— that his rash and ill-thought-out decision had led him to lose the love of his life.

When morning approached, you woke earlier than you had thought as the incessant barking of your pets broke your slumber. You sat up on your feathered bed and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, all the while Theo used his mouth to pull at the sleeve of your nightgown and urged you to stand. When you did, you looked upon Sapphira in question, and the two of your eldest cats only nudged their furry faces upon your leg, and you stumbled upon them as you tried to dress in your robe. You stayed silent as your cats began to push and lead you outside your chambers. The castle was still fast asleep, and the sun barely broke through the horizon.

Through your tired stupor, you did not question the odd behavior of your beloved pets as you walked barefoot through your home and were led to the gardens. When Theodore and Shapphira’s whinnings finally ceased, you sighed and scooped them up in your arms, “Why must you wake me and lead me to gardens for nothing, my loves?” You asked softly as they rested calmly in your arms Ypu turned to return from whence yyou came from but your steps quickly ceased and you froze in your spot as you were greeted by Aemond who was only dressed in his night clothes and from the sweat on his face, you would wager he came from the tiltyard. He had a triad of cats in his arms, the kittens belonging to the felines in your arms that you quickly placed back on the ground as you feared that at any moment you might just run away, as you had never thought you should be confronted by him.

“They stumbled into the tiltyard… I supposed they were yours because of their jeweled collars.” Those were the first words that Aemond had spoken to you. Even he himself was surprised that he did not stumble or stutter— he was certain that the words on his lips would be caught if he dared to speak to you now. You nodded meekly, watching as Theodore and Sapphira looked upon the man who had been your constant companion before.

When Aemond looked upon the pets that he once helped raise, he felt another pit in his stomach. It was odd; he was never particularly fond of your cats, but deep inside, he still cared for them because he knew how much you adored them. Back in his home, Aemond had the habit of feeding the stray cats he saw on the grounds, a small voice in his head urging him to do such actions because he knew you’d approve of it. To this day, in House Targaryen, there were maids and squires instructed to feed any wandering or stray cat they found.

You dared not look at Aemond, your eyes firmly planted on the ground, and as you saw him dip down and return the kittens to their parents, you took that as your turn to leave. “Good day, lord Aemond,” Was all you managed to say, and you tried to follow your cats, who returned inside the castle walls. When Aemond heard his name from your lips, he felt his knees weaken and his heart burn at the tone of dismissal in your voice.

He watched you try to hastily return inside the castle walls and perhaps hide from him once more, but he could not let it be so. He was brash as he took hold of your arm and pulled you closer to him. “Please,” Was all he could say, his being too consumed with the thought of you near, that you were once again in his grasp and that he was finally breathing in your scent and hearing your voice once more.

“I command you to let go of me,” You ordered, voice harsh as you knew that each second spent near Aemond would undo all the stitches that his leaving had caused. You only felt him hold onto you tighter, trying to pull you closer. “I’m sorry, my heart,” You hear him whisper. He was standing behind you, his hold still upon your arm and his face thrading near your head, his breath fanning your hair. You feel the threat of tears quick to come. You shut your eyes tightly and shook your head. “Do… do not call me that— how dare you call me that?!”

You seethed and forcefully removed his hold upon you so you could meet his eye. “You have no right to call me your heart after you had left mine broken for years!” You practically screamed, the hurt in you bubbling into rage. You watched as Ameond tried to speak— to try and say his peace but you could not let him do so— the questions you had that you desperately wnated the answers for could finally be known but you could not let it be so because you knew that whatever reason he offered, your heart would be too soft and understand him. Now, you felt as if you’d rather hate him and forgo closure rather than hear his side and mourn him for the rest of your life.

“You had left—you left me after… after everything, and not only did you not give me a reason, you had as well ignored me! I do not wish for your apologies nor your explanations— I do not even wish to see you! But here you are, in my home once more… asking for my father’s blessing so you could marry another.” Aemond stood stiffly, he knew you were close to tears and all he wanted to do was take you into his arms and let you cry onto him once more, but he knew that the tears you wished to shed were not of sadness— it was of anger; anger towards him.

“You have it— you have the king’s blessing.” You said. “And would you please do me this kindness?” You asked, Aemond’s lowered gaze finally placed itself upon yours once more. “Leave. You have gotten what you came for— you are free to do as you wish, but I beg of you, leave.” Aemond fisted his hands at your request, at the pleading tone in your voice. Is this truly what you wish? For him gone? Or were you only spurred by your anger? “I… I can’t, not again,”

You scoffed at Aemond’s reply. “You had no trouble doing it the first time… what is the difference now?” You asked bitterly. You watched as the solemn sadness in Aemond’s eye faded, and in turn, fire took its place. “Do you honestly believe I wished to do that? Do you truly think I wanted to leave you?”

You laughed humorlessly. “Aemond, not only did you leave, but you left me without a word! You could have explained your situation to me— you could have sent a letter— anything! And I would have understood! Yet you did not, I had to find out what had happened to you through whispers and gossip! So yes, I do believe you wished to leave— and you were only a coward to leave without telling me why.”

“Do you wish to know why?” Aemond asked, stepping closer to you. “No.” You answered plainly. “I am done questioning why— I have thought of any possible reason as to why you had done what you did. I’ve had enough… So no, I do not wish to know why, Aemond.” You swallowed thickly as you met his eye, you stared into the lilac orb that you had deemed the most beautiful gaze you’ve ever held years before, and quietly mourned the fact that this may be the last time you looked upon them.

You moved to walk away, to finally leave all of this be, but four words from Aemond made you freeze. “I only love you,” He said, staring upon your departing frame that ceased as the words left his lips. He took that as an opportunity to really tell you the words he wished to have said years before. “You are right, I was a coward— I have broken your heart and trust… but do not think for one moment that I have ceased loving you, my heart. I have promised you— laid out my oath that you shall be the only one that I will love and have 'til the end of my days… I still intend to keep my oath,”

You breathed out a heavy breath, turning to him once more. His eye filled with hope by that small action, you dared to step closer and cup his cheek and stroke his scar with your thumb as you had often done before. That only put forth further hope in him, but it was quick to die at the words that left your lips. “You have already broken one of your oaths, Aemond. What is one more?” It placed further dread in your heart as you studied his eye filled with hurt, and at any moment it looked like a tear might fall from the lilac orb, but you could not help but say the following words that engraved in Aemond’s mind that he had truly lost you. “Marry Lady Cassandra, Aemond. You may not have kept your promises to me, but at least keep the word you’ve given her.”

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sparklystarrrr · 5 months ago

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No Chance, No Way!!

Synopsis: In which (Y/n) falls in love with none other than Idia Shroud, but is scared to fall in love because of her freshly broken heart.

Contains: Idia S. x Fem! Megara! Reader, set in a garden in the Island of Woe, Idia & reader are hopelessly in love, Ortho our fav wingman who's sick of the two being hopelessly in love, Idia in Hades' toga and Reader in Megara's dress... I need that (I'm Greek, I want the rep), told from the reader's perspective, YES THIS IS BASED ON THE ACC SCENE WHERE MEG SINGS I WON'T SAY I'M IN LOVE it's gonna be so cliche and cheesy but WHATEVER

It was a rather warm summer night, the moon was shining and all seemed peaceful. That was until I got lost in my thoughts, walking and picking a delicate blue flower and landing myself on a bench in the garden of the Island of Woe. This was the perfect night to get lost in my thoughts. The only thing accompanying me was the cool breeze and the ruffle of leaves. I twirled the fragile flower around between my fingers, noticing how the flower's petals faded from a dark blue out to a light yet bright blue and all I could think about was him. A small grin formed on my face.

Oh, him... It felt so fleeting to feel this way, as if I was jumping on clouds with the wind in my hair... That was when I felt that feeling I was all too familiar with. I was in love... Ugh no.. I am not in love! I learned my lesson from the first guy this cannot be happening! I crossed my arms over my legs, propping my head up on my hand, I grumbled to myself "What's the matter with me... You'd think a girl would learn..."

I got myself up and walked around the garden. It seemed to be decorated with little cupids and statues of lovers, this was certainly an icky feeling... I sighed hopelessly while turning the little cupid from pointing its arrow at me to the other direction"If there's a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that..." I sauntered around aimlessly, passing a hedge of bushes"No man is worth the aggravation, that's ancient history... Been there, done that!" I flung the blue flower behind me in frustration.

As if on queue, a pair of big bright yellow eyes poked out from inside the bush. Suddenly, a determined Ortho popped out and caught the flower I tossed. He seemed to be giggling to himself, "Who do you think you're kidding! After doing a few scans on you, my databases tell me that big brother's the "Earth and Heaven" to you!" My cheeks flushed at his sudden interjection. I grunted as I plopped down onto a bench, holding my head in my hand's as I pouted... I can't really be feeling like this after just getting broken up with a few months ago, could I? "Don't try to keep it hidden (Y/n)! My scans can see right through you!" Ortho's child-like robot voice broke me out of my thoughts. "Oh no..." I moaned out while covering my face with my hands.

"You can't conceal it forever (Y/n), I know exactly how you're feeling and who you're thinking of!" He floated above me and dangled the flower beside my face in hopes I would catch it and just confess to these heavy feelings. I ignored the flower tickling my cheek and brushed it off of me. Ortho made a "hmph!" sound like he was determined to get me to say it. I stood up, feeling slightly ashamed for these not so new feelings,"No chance, no way! I won't say it, nope!" My frustration easily got to me. Why can't these feelings just pass!

Once again, Ortho kept pushing, "You're swooning, sighing, and your dopamine levels skyrocket when you're around Idia, all signs of being in love! Why deny it?" He had a point... but I won't say it!,"It's so cliche, Ortho! I just can't say i'm in love!" I walked away holding my arms close to my body. These feelings were so warm yet so uncertain... Ortho sighed and followed me to the path full of statues of lovers "I thought my heart had learned its lesson... It always feels this good when it starts out." I grumbled and looked up at all the statues while feeling a pang of loneliness I didn't know I felt until now.

My head was practically screaming 'Get a grip, girl! Unless you're dying to cry your heart out!' at me! I then felt Ortho's mechanical hand pat my shoulder and he looked up at me with those adorable big yellow eyes of his"You keep denying who you are and how you're feeling, but I'm not buying it! You practically hit the ceiling whenever the two of you talk!" I turned away from him and pouted, was it really that easy to see my feelings towards Idia..? "Facing it and owning up to these emotions will release a weight off your shoulders. And my databases are 101% sure you won't get rejected!" That comment made me feel... hope? Why was I feeling hopeful about this?! I can't believe myself!

"No chance! I won't ever say it!" I say stubbornly as I hop across pedestals that stuck out in the clear blue water of a pool. On the last pedestal I trip and nearly fall into the cold water! That's when a male's hand reaches out to me. I grab on and he pulls me onto the ground before I could fall. I looked at the hand. It was pale, bony and was larger than my own. I looked up at the man who owned this warm hand and it was none other than Idia.

"..Hey... Y-you good?" His awkward sharp toothy grin was really cute and I couldn't help but smile when I saw the pink tips of his blue hair going wild and crazy. 'Wow.. he looks really good in this outfit he was wearing though, I see his biceps and everything...I knew he had a sleeper build...' Shut up mind! I can't think like this... I smiled gently up at him and muttered a small, "I'm fine..!" I said as we both giggled awkwardly. I turned away, trying to hide my blush and he did the same. My hands brushed through my long (h/c) locks and I saw Ortho who seemed to be ushering me to confess because the Seven know Idia won't. He created a small hologram that had the words "Give in!!" "I can see that smile from here, (Y/n)!" He shouted at me. He put up a thumbs up for me to confess.

I covered my ears and shut my eyes as if I was trying to shut the whole world out. "This scene won't play Ortho! I just won't say it, get off my case!" I yelled back to him as I ran off to the fountain to sit and be irritated. I plopped down with a scowl and put my hand down on the cement to lean myself on my arm. The feeling of a stem was under my palm and I suddenly knew exactly what it was... the blue flower. I picked it up, smiling to myself in content as I put it up to my nose and smelled the fragrance. It smelled almost sweet, but perfect.

I touched the petals delicately with my free hand "Well, at least out loud I won't say I'm in love..." I held the flower to my chest and sighed, my body going to lay down on the edge of the fountain when suddenly I felt someone beside me. I heard a small "Eep!" from the person my head had bumped into and I turned around in surprise. "I-Idia?" We felt close.. too close for us to just be friends. "Uh.. Ortho sent me here.... Sorry... I-i can go if you need me too." And with that he started getting up, his hair going a bit more crazy than usual with the pink tint still there, even his ears were a light pink, his cheeks too.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. All I did was suddenly grab onto his arm. I'm so gonna be embarrassed for this later... "Sorry... but don't go. Sit with me, Idia..." I felt my face heating up a bit, him clearly turning pinker as seconds passed. I pulled him to sit down next to me. "So... clearly Ortho wanted the both of us to be here." I mumbled. "Yeah..." He said while nervously playing with his hair that was glowing a brighter pink. There was an awkward silence for a moment. We didn't really have anything to talk about in this situation. I sighed. "I'm sorry for... being in love with you, I guess." My hand wrapped around his hands which were still busy fiddling with his flaming locks. My other hand sat in my lap, twirling the blue flower.

He choked on air for a moment at my sudden confession. Obviously he wasn't expecting it. "N-no! It-it's fine it's just... Idk.. I'm not used to this stuff..." At this point all his hair had been colored a bright fuchsia. "Well I am you could say... I'm just scared of being in love." He looked at me, then away from me, at my flower, then back at me. "... Why? You seem like that girl everyone wants... like some normie... couldn't ever be seen with me..." He muttered the last part under his breath.

I scoffed at myself," If you really want to know, I got my heart played with." I looked away as my shoulders slumped and I looked down at my hands. His silence made it awkward but I knew he didn't really know how to respond. "That's stupid of him...." I heard him quietly whisper to himself. I looked at him with a smirk, "Yeah, really was stupid of him. Glad you think the same, Shroud..." He squeaked and his face turned almost as pink as his hair.

"But you know, I'm past him." He looked at me with his bright yellow eyes that I adored so much. "I don't think I could be scared of love when I'm with you..." I said while smiling up at him. His deep blue lips parted as I got closer to him, our hands still touching as they went down together and leaned on the stone fountain. He picked up the flower laying in my other hand, and feeling bold, he tucked it behind my ear."...You know... (h/c) looks mega cool with blue..." I smiled at his words.

Without a second thought, my now empty hand went up to his jaw and I dragged him down to get closer with me. I crashed my rosy lips against his icy blue ones. Suddenly the whole world seemed to disappear. His hands froze in their spot but as the kiss deepened, his hands went to my waist, his thumbs rubbing against my sides while he pulled me closer.

We pulled away to catch our breath. I smirked at his now bright red face. "I love you, Shroud. Don't break my heart.." I said in a breathy tone. I already knew he wouldn't, I trust him with my life. "I wouldn't dare, πριγκίπισσα." We crashed our lips together once more, grabbing onto each other like our lives depended on it. And the rest was history~

(queue lil Ortho celebrating in a bush and watching them, then covering his eyes when the two start getting a little steamy)

I've had an Idia hyper fixation for the past 2 days, I NEEDED THIS

Edit: πριγκίπισσα is princess in Greek<333

#idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland Idia shroud #twisted wonderland ortho shroud #ignihyde #twisted wonderland fluff

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tsaheylutales · 18 days ago

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hiiiii!

if you’re still taking requests, i’d love to see steve with someon like him. someone who’s like loud, snart, flirty, flirts with him and they’re like “wait, you actually like me?! wtf???? i thought it was just a game!” queue kisses (maybe a liitle smut 👀)

i love yr writing tbw!! 🤍🤍🤍 everything dad!steve is just so fucking sweet!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Hii! Yes I'm still taking request, Thank you so much for leaving one! I didn't do any smut but the kiss does get a bit heavy. let me know what you think!

about 1k words.

You and Steve were always flirting. That was just how your friendship was. You’d wear ridiculously low-cut shirts and lean over the counter at just the right angle and watch Steve’s eyes flicker down, up, and back down again.

You’d smirk. He’d cough, and pretend he wasn’t looking.

It was a game. A safe, ridiculous game you’d both been playing for months. No rules, no consequences.

But lately…It’s been feeling less like a game. And more like something you didn’t quite know how to handle.

It was a slow Tuesday and the peak of Indiana summer. The AC was broken and all there was to cool you down was a tiny desk fan perched on the counter that occasionally turned just right and blessed your face with three seconds of relief.

You were wearing one of your thinnest tank tops, the kind that hung just low enough to make Steve’s jaw clench, paired with cut-off denim shorts and zero shame. Your skin was warm, a little sticky with sweat, and the heat made everything feel heavier. Slower. Needier.

Steve was trying to make himself useful. Or at least look useful.

He was kneeling by the horror section, stacks of VHS tapes beside him, pretending to reorganize what definitely did not need reorganizing. You’d watched him line up the same row of tapes three times already, each time fussing with the angle like it mattered.

It didn’t. Not when his eyes kept drifting to you every few seconds.

“You good, Harrington?”

He stood up too fast, bumping into the shelf. “Yeah! Fine. Totally fine.” He says, pupils blown wide, mouth slightly open, tongue darting out to wet his lips. His eyes fall to your chest.

You smirk, voice sickly sweet. “Getting a bit hot and bothered there, babe?”

Steve freezes.

His jaw works for a second, like he’s trying to form words and failing, before his eyes flutter shut for a moment and he lets out a low, shaky breath.

Then he marches over.

Not striding. Not swaggering. Marches like he’s made a decision and there’s no going back.

You barely have time to process before he’s right in front of you, hands gripping the edge of the counter on either side of your thighs, locking you in.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” Steve breathes, voice low and wrecked, like he’s one second from completely losing control.

You tilt your head, lips curled in a knowing smile. “Think I do. S’part of the game.”

His eyes flicker, something shifts behind them. Less teasing, more need.

“Yeah?” He says, stepping even closer. “Well I don’t want to play anymore.”

You blink, heart skipping, breath catching. Because the look he gives you? It’s not the usual cocky, flirty Steve.

It’s real. Desperate. Like he’s been aching for this, for you, and he’s finally giving himself permission to stop pretending it’s all just a game.

“Then stop playing.” You say quietly.

He doesn’t hesitate.

His mouth crashes against yours, messy, open-mouthed and hungry. You gasp into his mouth and he takes full advantage, deepening the kiss with a kind of desperation that sends heat straight through you. His lips are soft but needy, his tongue insistent, teeth catching on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you whimper.

Your hands move from his shirt to his hair, threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to make him groan, low and rough in the back of his throat, like he needs this.

He kisses you deeper, hungrier, hands gripping your thighs like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded. Then, suddenly, he pulls back just enough to breathe, not far, just enough to mouth along your jaw, your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below your ear.

“You have no idea how much I like you, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your skin.

You freeze. Just slightly. Your fingers still in his hair, breath catching. “Wait…”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your voice caught somewhere between disbelief and nervous laughter. “So you actually like me?”

Steve leans back just enough to see your face, and he’s smiling, but it’s not cocky or flirty this time. It’s soft. Real.

His eyes search yours like he’s trying to figure out if you’re messing with him.

“Yeah, I like you.” He says quietly, like it’s obvious. “I’ve been losing my mind over you for, like, months. Thought it was pretty clear.”

You stare at him. And now you’re the one reeling. You blink once. Twice.

“Steve…” You breathe, suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating.

“I thought we were just… playing.” You say, softer now. “I didn’t think you actually meant it.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, a little stunned, like he’s the one who can’t believe you didn’t know.

“Babe.” He says, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “I’ve dropped about seventy-five tapes, called you every name except your own, and haven’t been able to look at you without forgetting how to speak. You really thought that was just flirting?”

Your cheeks are warm, but not from the heat anymore. You smile, small, a little dazed. “I… didn’t know you liked me back.” You admit, blinking up at him.

He grins, wide and so Steve, brushing his nose against yours.

“Well.” He murmurs. “Now you do.”

And then he kisses you again.

This time softer, slower, like now that the truth’s out, there’s no rush. No more hiding.

Just you.

And Steve.

And the kind of kiss that says this isn’t a game anymore.

#request #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington

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randomreasonstolive · 10 months ago

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Hello there all you lovely shining stars.

N here, with some pretty bad news...

(I'll put it behind a cut to avoid triggering anyone)

C is the person who actually runs this blog. He works tirelessly to make sure this blog always, ALWAYS has reasons in the queue in advance, just in case. There's currently over a month prepared, because he loves y'all, loves this blog, and loves to put in the time to help people.

C is a full-time care giver. At work, he care gives for three wonderful elderly ladies. When he gets home, he care gives for me, N, as I am disabled. And then, in his spare time, he care gives for y'all by working hard on this blog.

C is the most wonderful, amazing person I know, and it really baffles me that something like this could happen to someone like him.

Recently, C was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.

We unfortunately live in America, where getting diagnosed with Cancer means a massive financial burden. Up until this point we've been doing very good financially, which has been a wonderful switch up from years ago, when we had to ask our community for help just to pay rent.

Now, I worry about our ability to afford things like food, basic needs, and rides to and from the hospital (we don't drive). His insurance company is refusing to pay for his treatment (yes, they're refusing to pay for CANCER treatments), and the minimal paid leave he is eligible for has had it's processing delayed.

Basically, we're financially struggling all over again, because C has cancer, and we live in America.

So what does this mean for y'all?

Well, as I mentioned, C always has the blog filled out ahead of time. He will absolutely make sure that the queue doesn't run out, so y'all don't have to worry about that.

I unfortunately do feel the need to reach out and ask for your help. It pains me to be put in this position again after years of not having to ask for help, but the current circumstances have really hit us hard.

So, what can you do to help?

Well,

Here is our Amazon wish list, if you'd like to help that way. We currently have some food and necessities on there;

Amazon Wishlist

Or, our paypal account is [email protected]

Currently, our biggest need is a new mattress, which is where any funds that go to our paypal will be headed.

C's cancer is the worst in his hips and our current mattress is such poor quality that I have to sleep on the floor. His doctors have insisted that good rest is important for him to heal, and he hasn't been getting very good rest on our current mattress. He wakes up every morning in more pain than he would if we had a good mattress, so getting one is our main goal.

I am so, so sorry to tell you all this bad news. C really didn't want to burden any of you with this, which is why I'm the one making this post.

We both love you all so, so much. Thank you to every single one of you for existing, you matter so much to us and to everyone who follows this blog.

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back2bluesidex · 2 years ago

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In Motion - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Jungkook X Client!Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, Friends to FWB au

Wordcount: 1.4k+

Summary: You are finally letting Jungkook set everything in motion. And he is more than happy to show you what he has to offer.

Warnings: Rough sex, Jungkook is wearing a leather fit, he cums on her tits, he is kinky, he is a menace, unprotected sex (it's a no no), squirting twice, he callers her whore for once (because I had to put it!!) NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Here is another unhinged smut.

If you are standing right beside the door waiting for Jungkook to arrive, then you don’t wanna ponder upon it. Never in a million years will you ever admit that you are horny as fuck and you are desperate for you hot, handsome and absolutely stunning tattoo artist.

Honestly, he has been dropping hints. He has been trying to let you know that both of you are on the same page but you, being you, have been playing hard to get. You are inflating your ego by reminding yourself that Jungkook is down bad for you even when he has a quite long queue of guys and girls trying to get fucked by him.

But not anymore.

You decided it’s about time you give in and take the chance.

Your doorbell rings once, pulling you out of the thoughts.

Taking a deep breath and a few moments (not to make it obvious that you were waiting just right beside the door), you open the door revealing Jungkook.

Your eyes wander down his body. Just as always, he is in his tight black leather fits. An arm full of tattoos starts just where the short sleeve of his top ends.

But before you could drink him in anymore, he is pushing you inside, making his way inside your condo without a single greeting.

This guy doesn’t even bother asking for permission.

He grabs you by your arms, interchanging your positions and pushing you into the door.

“Finally. You came to your senses.” Jungkook mouthed briefly before aiming right at your neck.

You let out a breathy moan because, again, Jungkook doesn’t prep you with kisses. He straight on bites down on your skin.

“I was always on my senses.” You interject.

His hands travel down and reach to the knot of your robe, pulling the loose end hurriedly.

“Uh-huh” he smirks, “Your little act of trying to play hard to get almost had me ending up on someone’s bed last night.”

He removes the robe within a blink. You stand there naked for his eyes wearing only your underwear.

“Oh? So, did you fuck them?” you place your question, tugging him closer, biting on his earlobe, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

“I said almost, darling. They weren’t enticing enough. I jerked off thinking about you and the things I could do to you.” his throat vibrates on your lips as you continue to litter open-mouthed kisses all over his neck.

Jungkook’s hands find your tits. He grabs both of them with both of his hands, squeezing the swells and twisting the nipples as hard as he can. His thumb then brushes over the tattoo right under your left tit, his own creation and also the reason behind the pumping sexual tension started between you two.

You are unbelievably wet right now and you don’t want to wait any more than you already have. And when Jungkook’s erection presses on your stomach, you lose it a little.

“Take me to the bedroom.” you whine as Jungkook rolls his hip into yours enjoying the distressed look on your face. His hands don’t stop playing with your tits.

“Look at you whoring right now. Who was denying my advances for the past few months, huh?” Jungkook smirks again, pinching on your nipple so hard that it makes you hiss.

“Stop teasing, JK. fuck me or get lost.” you object. Your voice is somewhere between a moan and a whine.

“I choose the first option.” he hoists you up, placing his hands right underneath your ass. You wrap your legs around him. Your core presses right onto his upper stomach. You are glad he chose to wear this extravagant leather top, otherwise he would have felt your wetness on his skin, which is kind of embarrassing.

When Jungkook drops you on your mattress, you see his eyes drifting towards the evident wet spot on your red lacy underwear. He stands at the end of your bed right between your legs, which dangle off the edge.

“Umm.. wanna taste that.” he mutters as he slowly pulls up his top above his head, leaving himself shirtless for your eyes. You raise one of your hands to touch that taut stomach and chest of his. But he slaps your hands away, grabs your wrists with one of his hands and pins them on your stomach.

“Not so soon.” he purrs.

His free hand pulls down your underwear in a swift motion. Goosebumps spread all across your skin as soon as your slicked cunt comes out of its cover.

Jungkook wets his lips with his tongue once and then dives down between your legs, sitting on his knees. His fingers work their way to part your folds and give his tongue a free access to your clit. He licks a stripe off.

“Oh Jungkook-” you whine, contained with pleasure.

His lips wrap around your clit and he starts suckling on the bud. Your eyes roll back with the session. You moan out some incoherent words every time jungkook sucks a little hard. His fingers plunge their way into your hole with no hesitation.

“O- Oh my g-god, Jungkook.” you shout at some point as you feel heat building in your stomach.

“I waited so long for this.” Jungkook goes on speaking into your cunt, “Only I know how much I wanna see you like this.” he twists his fingers in a way and touches a spot that has you seeing stars. And before you know it.. You are squirting on his face.

“Fuck, Y/N. You are raining.” Jungkook groans, detaching his face from your cunt. He lets your hands free while standing up and climbing on top of your body to attach his lips to yours.

“Fuck, did I just-”

“Yes. you just squirted all over me. Now taste yourself.” Jungkook crashes his lips on yours, poking his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your legs around his torso while your hands move to the south, touching his bulge through the leather of his pants. You squeeze it hard and Jungkook groans into your mouth.

“Don’t get me started, Y/N. You know I get hot hearted.” he mumbles, nipping your lower lip. You moan.

“As much as I would like to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, that can wait. Right now, I need to fuck your cunt for all the time you kept me waiting.” he stated, standing up and unbuckling his belt.

His cock springs up free as soon as it is out of its stuffy confinement. Your mouth waters at the sight. If you do this another time, you will certainly suck his soul out of him.

“Like what you see?” he asks and you nod.

“You could have gotten this cock inside of you ages ago. But no. Your ego is fatter than your ass.” He teases you.

“Stop being a jerk.” you fight back, already being far too gone.

Jungkook positions his cock’s head right into your clit. He thrusts once through your folds, rubbing your clit deliciously with his tip.

“Oh lord- Jung-jungkook where the fuck did you learn that?” You voice out loud, feeling your insides twitch again and he hasn’t even penetrated you yet.

“You know, this is how I like it.” he breathes as he finally pushes his shaft inside you.

His cock glides inside you so smoothly as if your cunt is made to accommodate it.

And then he starts moving. Your bed starts squeaking as soon as he picks up a rhythmic pace. One of his hands reaches down to pluck your hands from the sheets and place them above your head. His mouth drops down to your nipple, sucking and biting on the same. The thumb of his free hand starts drawing tight circles on your clit. And that’s it.

You squirt unannounced, again.

“Fucking hell. Two times in a row.” You heard Jungkook chuckling darkly but you are so gone with the overpowering orgasm that you don’t catch his contorted face that signifies the fact that he is nearing too.

You only feel it when he pulls himself out of you, pumping himself once and then spilling his cum all over your already ruined body.

It flies before you face like ropes of Champagne confetti.

“How was it?” Jungkook breathes hard, still standing at the end of your bed leading down to face you.

“The best I have ever had.” your answer makes him smirk.

You are still trying to process everything, including the white stickiness all over your tits, and stomach, but soon you hear him speaking again, “So.. if you are ready and if you let me.. I can set us in motion.”

And you know you are into this shit with Jeon Jungkook for a long time because there is no way you are denying him anymore, not when he can fuck you like this.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts x you #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #bts oneshot #jungkook 3d

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yvesdot · 9 months ago

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How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

#writeblr #writeblr advice #writeblr tutorial #writeblr tips #writeblr community #writing advice #writers on tumblr #important writing updates #txt

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4lydsmarie · 1 year ago

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sweater weather .. dallas winston x reader

fem!reader x toxic!dallas winston "it's too cold for you here.."

warning(s): toxic relationship! dallas keeps trying to push reader away but she won't budge, and he's js like "?? why r u still here" because he's TERRIFIED of love or commitment. things change toward the end though(?).

a/n: i have woken again to post for you guys 🥰 this is true dedication bc i started this at 1:03am and it's now 2:50 at the time of officially uploading this (with this a/n cause it's an edit). first i was gonna talk ab how dilf matt dillon is, then i was gonna make matt hcs, THEN i was gonna do dally hcs, and FINALLY i decided on writing this because toxic dallas is stuck in my headdd😣. i am a FIRM believer that dallas winston is EITHER loverboy softboy around reader OR cold toxic bf that is afraid of commitment and love because of his past in new york. NO OTHER WAY TO PUT IT!

dating dallas, you knew whaat would come with it. no, not just the constant "gettin' it in with the fuzz" or his repetitive fights at buck's on a thursday night, but the laid back "ya know i don't love anythin'" motto he always has going on. you and dallas had probably broken up 5 or 6 times in the past month. either he'd be out with another broad, or he'd be dismissing your feelings again and telling you "i mean i like ya, doll. that's close enough to what you're talkin' about, right? i mean what's love anyways? don't say things you don't understand.."

you'd recently just gotten back together with dallas. you'd broken up with him because you found out he was hitting on another girl, this time a soc named cherry valance.

well, in due time another argument would come up. so here you are, arguing with dallas again because you told him you loved him again and finally snapped at his unbothered, half-assed response.

"dallas i don't understand!" you yelled. "all i try to do is get you to love me because that's what a relationship is all about! i do everything for you and give you chance aftter chance. but no, you just HAVE to keep it up like you care about nothing i do for you!! what's the point dallas? why knock my heart around just 'cause you can't commit to anything?" by now tears welled up in your eyes, but your anger overshadowed the embarrassment you might have crying in front of dallas.

"i don't have to keep nothin' up doll, that's just me. man i thought this love problem you got goin' on in your head was a one time thing. if i knew you were always gonna be so emotional and stuck on tryin' to get love all the time then maybe i wouldn't have dated you at all!" dallas yelled back. you scoffed as you walked up to him, even angrier than before.

"god i hate you dallas! you're not fucking cool, and one day i hope you wake up and see that! the world isn't all bad you just make it out to be that way so you can have a reason to be miserable. i hate it all, and the thing i hate the most is that you just can't love me after all i do!" you gave dallas a little push at the last part. at this point, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing as you grabbed your stuff and walked home. not to mention, the whole argument was in front of the curtis' house. who needed tv when you had your weekly dallas and yn drama, huh?

seemingly on queue, rain started to pour, drenching you in water. you let out a huff in annoyance as you finally made it to your house, slamming your front door behind you.

meanwhile dallas stood in front of the curtis house still, watching you walk away. he tried to act like he didn't care, but deep down he knew he did. "did she get home safe? is she alright? man, i messed up. god, im a jerk. do i love her?" were the questions racing through his mind. he didn't know wether he should run to your house or keep going about his day like nothing happened.

the sound of the curtis' screen door closing brought back dallas' attention as darry walked up to him, trying to give whatever advice he could. "hey dal, maybe you guys should call it quits or somethin', i mean-"

"hey man how 'bout you shutup, alright? mind your own." dallas clapped back, interrupting darry. darry seemingly understood his defeat as he raised his hands in surrender and backed up into the house. all the guys asked what was going on, and as a response he just sighed and shook his head.

about an hour later you heard a knock on your door. assuming it was your best friend marcia, since you'd called her a couple minutes before to sleep over, you opened the door without checking who it was. to your surprise, you were met with dallas.

in his hand he had a rose, definitely stolen, some soda (i say pop where im from but whatever..), and a box of milk duds, also probably stolen.

you scoff out of shock before finally speaking. "dally? what's this?" you asked. dallas just rolled his eyes and responded "just let me in the house, man i wouldn't even be caught dead doin' this for anyone.." you couldn't help but grin as you let him in, closing the door behind him. yeah you guys had previously argued but, it felt good to be in dally's presence again..

you both took a seat on your bed, sitting in silence for a bit. finally, you decided you'd had enough of the tension. "so, you gonna explain where all this came from" you asked, pointing towards the items he'd brought you. "just thought i'd do somethin' nice man, that's it." he leaned back onto your bed a bit. "oh, sure okay." you responded dryly.

dallas sat back up and scooted towards you. "yn.." he said, making you look up and respond with a simple 'hm?'. "listen, i care about you alright? but you gotta stop with the saying you love me. i'm not a good guy and i don't do right all the time. you gotta love someone who ain't like me, alright?" you frowned at his words. "dallas, the way you see yourself is totally different than how i do. i know you've been through a lot that you'll probably never tell me about, but that doesn't mean anything in my eyes. i do love you and i won't stop saying it cause i know one day you'll say it back. sometimes you're a little cold, sometimes it's too cold for me here...but i'll keep tryin' anyways dally." you turned away from dallas as you spoke, tears filling up your eyes yet again.

dallas sighed and stayed quiet for a bit, seemingly thinking about what to say. finally, he replied "yeah, alright. hey ask me again in the future. maybe my world'll be different and i'll think about it, huh?" you told yourself "at least it was a start" as you nodded in response to dallas' words.

finally, you'd decided to move onto dallas' lap. he grinned as he leaned in to kiss you. and you guys kissed for a while too. dallas didn't need to say it, but you knew he loved you deep down.

and he knew it too.

yet still, you both awaited the next argument to come. after all, he's still (somewhat) the same old dally. only difference is you both knew he cared about you a bit (and sorta loved you too).

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octoberobserver · 1 month ago

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The Set Up - a Robron fic

(Read on ao3 here)

Hi! I truly cannot believe that I’m not only back watching Emmerdale (or at least bingeing clips) in the year of our Lord 2025, but I’m writing fic for it for the first time, too. The power of Robron, I swear. Full disclosure, despite having grown up with it, I haven’t actually watched the show properly in over six years, so I’m playing catch-up in a lot of ways. If anything seems off, that’s why.

This fic is also for my Mum, who passed away recently and was a massive Robron shipper, even bigger than I ever was. She always said there was nobody else for Aaron, and Robert would be back, and she was right on both fronts. ❤️

~*~

He let Mackenzie Boyd, of all people, set him up.

Robert knew from the start, right when it was happening over several ill-advised pints in The Woolpack on a Thursday evening in early August, that it was an absolutely terrible idea.

And yet…

“Come on,” Mack nudged his shoulder, taking a large gulp from his fourth pint of the night. “A friend of mine is comin’ down from Aberdeen the weekend. I said I’d show ‘im round, but I have a thing, can’t miss it. So, do me a favour and show ‘im Hotten for me.”

Robert took a much more respectable sip of his third pint of the night. He had been back in the village for a couple of months now and, bafflingly, among the animosity from the Dingles, the hesitancy from his sister, the vitriol from his dear, long-lost half brother, and the soul-crushing heartache from his hus…ex-husband, he had somehow managed to make a friend.

Mackenzie. Aaron’s best friend and perpetual, if well-meaning, new thorn in Robert’s side.

“This friend of yours,” he took another sip, eyes carefully averted. “He wouldn’t happen to be the same one I heard ya makin’ plans to head to the new gay bar with, would he?”

Listen. The village was small. He couldn’t help but overhear phone conversations in the café while waiting for his Americano and trying (and failing) to ignore Aaron’s existence in the queue behind him, even if Mackenzie weren’t a giant motormouth. Which he 100% was.

As if reading his mind, a slow grin passed over Mack’s face.

“One in the same,” he winked. “Logan. He’s thirty-five, brunette, and a bit rough around the edges. Just your type…or so I’ve heard, anyway.”

Robert snorted, putting down his pint and locking eyes with him.

“You’re a lot of things, Mack. But subtle isn’t one of ‘em, eh?”

Mackenzie practically vibrated in his seat, his dark eyes lit up in excitement.

“No, it’s not, Robbie m’boy. Come on, go out with him. I promise it’ll be fun. He’s dead fit too.”

He waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculously suggestive way.

“Aren’t you straight?” Robert tilted his head inquisitively at him.

Mack rolled his eyes. “Mostly,” he smirked, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t have functioning eyes, Sugden.”

He sighed before waving his hand around the half-empty pub.

“What, have ya some other big plans in your lively social calendar?”

Robert rolled his eyes back at him. He was a recently released ex-con who wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular before he went inside, so he was hardly batting invitations away with a stick. And this numpty knew it.

Still, something had his stomach churning.

“And what does Aaron think about his best friend trying to set up his ex-husband on a date with a ‘dead fit, rough around the edges’ type?”

He said it lightly, almost flippantly, but didn’t quite hit the mark. They both pretended it did, though.

After a tumultuous first few weeks back in the Dales, Robert was honouring his promise to leave John (and reluctantly, Aaron) alone. They hadn’t seen much of one another since their last blow-up over a month ago, and it was slowly killing Robert.

Catching only brief glimpses here and there of his hus…ex-husband in the pub or the shop or the café was a quiet torture. Harder than the last six years without him inside had been because this time, this way, he was so close but…just out of reach.

Instead, he had to watch, in real time, as Aaron lived his life without him. Was happy (if he was to be believed, anyway) with someone else—Robert's half-brother, army-medic twat, John Sugden.

Of all people.

But every cloud had a silver lining, and his sheer hatred for John had been what drew Mackenzie into Robert’s orbit.

Because it turned out, Aaron’s best friend hated his new husband and really, somehow liked his ex. And wasn’t that just fucking hilarious?

They’d bonded in minutes.

“Lucky for us,” Mackenzie shrugged, “Aaron doesn’t get to have an opinion on what, or who you do anymore, Robert. And yeah, he’s my best mate in the world, but he doesn’t speak for me and what I choose to do with or for my other friends, either. So. Free country and all that. He knows we’re friends. Accepts it. And settin’ ya up kinda goes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

Robert narrowed his eyes, suspicious of his tone.

“This isn’t another one of your bonkers plans to get us back together, is it? ‘Cause I told Aaron I would speak to you about—”

“Nope, no, my matchmaking days are over, Sugden. Scout’s honour.”

He held up two fingers to his forehead, almost like he was blessing himself.

“Something tells me you were never a Boy Scout, Boyd.”

“And you’d be right,” Mackenzie grinned. “Was kicked out my first week for nickin’ badges. But my point still stands. Ya gotta get back out there, man. See the world, meet new people. You’ve been outta the game for over half a decade. It’s time.”

Robert shifted in his seat.

“And does this Logan know why I’ve been ‘out of the game’ for over half a decade, Mackenzie? ‘Cause something tells me that might be a dealbreaker.”

A trace of a grimace passed over his friend’s face before he gave another shrug.

“He knows you were inside. He has a bit of a past himself, so he gets it more than most,” he sighed. “But I didn't get too into the details. It's not my story to tell.”

Robert nodded at that. And let himself briefly consider it. Being with another man who wasn’t Aaron had honestly never crossed his mind. Not once. He was attracted to plenty of men, sure, had been since he was a teenager, because yeah, he also had functioning eyes, but actively putting himself out there after knowing what he and Aaron had? Could possibly have again if it weren’t for the small, tiny issue of Aaron being married and Robert having broken his trust and his heart all in one foul sweep?

Never stopped ya before, a snarky voice that sounded devastingly like Liv echoed in the back of his head.

His heart gave a painful thump.

“Look, I’ve said my piece,” Mackenzie held up his hands, breaking Robert from his reverie as he dug in his pocket and retrieved a slip of paper, sliding it slowly across the table like he was in a film negotiating his price for a bounty.

Dramatic little shit.

“There’s his number. I told ‘im I’d pass it on, and he said no pressure either way, he’s well able to entertain himself till I can grace him with my lovely presence. So do with it what ya want.”

Robert stared down at the eleven digits, the black ink blurring a little as he heard the last words he and Aaron spoke directly to each other, all those weeks ago…

“He stole my husband, my sister, my home, and my life, and I’m supposed to, what, Aaron? Play happy families with the bloke? Shake his hand, send Christmas cards, and share pints down the pub? All while he has you in his bed, Vic in his corner, and everyone else in this godforsaken village wrapped around his little finger? Gimme a break.”

“I’m not asking you to have any type of relationship with John, Robert. But I do need ya to move on. From me and from us. Find someone else. I have.”

Move on. From Aaron and from the life they had together. Find someone else. First Chas, then Vic, now Aaron, all saying the same thing, like it was just the easiest thing in the world. To move on from the one person in the whole world who ever made him happy, ever made him feel like himself, ever made him fall in love with—

“Oi, Mack, where the hell have ya—oh.”

Robert just about managed not to jump as the man of the hour, Aaron Dingle, (or Sugden-Dingle, he supposed he was now, again?), suddenly appeared, storming right over to the table before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of him sitting with Mackenzie.

“Uh,” Aaron’s brow furrowed as he stared between them for a beat, before he shook his head and gestured at his friend. “I was lookin’ for ya. The footie’s at eight, so…”

Robert stood up, deftly slipping the piece of paper into the palm of his hand and nodding at Mack.

Decision made, then.

“Right, I’ll let ya get on. Thanks, Mack,” he drained his pint and turned, giving a curt nod to Aaron before making his way out of the pub, heading for Vic’s.

Move on. From me and from us. Find someone else.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to do exactly that just yet, but…maybe, just maybe, a drink with a ‘dead fit, rough around the edges’ Scot couldn’t hurt.

~*~

Aaron watched as Robert, dressed in a tight navy shirt and dark trousers, with perfectly messy hair (styled in the way he knew took him ages), and a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, hopped into a taxi at seven o’clock on a Saturday night.

“Where’s he off to?” Aaron mumbled to himself, hating that he still cared.

He shouldn’t.

But he did.

It had been…weird having Robert back in the village. Well, it had been a lot more than just weird, but he didn’t wanna think about all that just now. Not when he was supposed to be having a quiet night in with his new husband.

His husband. John. Not—

“You okay?”

He startled a little at the sudden voice in his ear.

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Hurry up, will ya, the food’s gettin’ cold.”

John let them into their flat, throwing his keys down and shrugging off his jacket.

“Was that Robert getting into a taxi?” he asked over his shoulder, his tone clipped.

Aaron refused to rise to it. They were supposed to be having a quiet night in, with some takeaway and some Netflix and maybe a quick shag if he didn’t fall asleep halfway through whatever boring documentary John forced him to watch—but none of that would happen if Robert Sugden became the topic of conversation.

“Didn’t see,” he lied, just one of many he’d accumulated over the last couple of months, starting with his wedding day and the kiss he hadn’t told him about.

The same kiss that Robert did eventually tell him about, and all Hell broke loose.

“He and Mackenzie seem to be cozying up a lot,” John continued, despite it being obvious Aaron didn’t want to keep talking about it. “Is he trying to steal your best friend or something?”

“Who knows with Robert?” Aaron sighed as he got out plates and dug through the bag, taking out containers of food, the smell as delicious as always, but his stomach suddenly queasy. “And, Mack’s allowed to have more than one friend, so it’s none of my business…”

He shrugged, hoping the topic was dropped.

(He should’ve known better.)

“Don’t you think it’s a bit weird, though?” John asked, making his way over and folding his arms across his chest. “What, Robert can’t have you, so he’ll take the next best thing?”

“Robert’s not interested in Mack like that, John. Just ‘cause he’s bi doesn’t mean that he wants to get with everyone.”

That wasn’t what he had intended to say. He had no idea what he had intended to say, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that. Judging by the creases lining John’s forehead, he thought the same.

“I know, Aaron,” he said a little sharply. “I just meant that it’s odd that he could make his own separate friends, but instead is being pally with your best mate. Having pints and talkin’ shop and letting him set him up on dates with—”

“What?”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat.

John’s eyes narrowed slightly, tracing his face. Aaron kept still, trying to show none of the reaction that the rest of his body was having right now.

Mack set Robert up on a date? Was that where he was going, all dressed up in a taxi?

“I overheard Mackenzie talking to that friend of his from Aberdeen. Logan?” John was saying, almost drowned out by the thundering in Aaron’s ears. “He said something about giving Robert his number and telling him to text him.”

Something clicked in the back of Aaron’s mind. Last Thursday, he had gone to The Woolie looking for Mack, only to find him sitting with Robert. Predictably, Robert had made a pretty hasty exit once he’d seen him (unpredictably keeping his promise about leaving him alone), and slipped what looked like a small piece of paper into his hand before heading out.

Aaron probably shouldn’t have noticed something like that, but then again, when had he ever not noticed every single little thing about Robert Jacob Sugden, even when he didn’t want to?

“Oh, right,” he forced out, gathering his food and making his way over to the couch. “Good for him, then.”

The words were like ash in his mouth, so he cracked open a can and tried to dowse it in the shitty craft beer John insisted on buying from Hotten.

(It didn’t work.)

He could feel John’s eyes on him as he tucked into his dinner, his stomach protesting every bite but forcing himself to swallow it down anyway.

“Yeah, I suppose it is a good thing,” John continued, sitting down beside him, a plate in one hand as he wrapped the other around Aaron’s shoulders, leaning in close, his breath on his cheek. “He can find someone else’s life to ruin, so we can get on with ours.”

A spike of anger flared in Aaron’s veins at that. He had spoken to John before about not understanding what he and Robert had, what they had once been to one another, and having opinions about something he knew nothing about, but as time wore on, he just kept picking and making snide comments, and it was really starting to wind him up.

He swallowed down that anger along with his food.

A quiet night in. He wanted a quiet night in. Food. Film. Fucking. With his new husband. That was what he wanted. Not whatever Robert was up to in Hotten with some mystery bloke Mackenzie set him up with.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” he unsubtly changed the subject, but thankfully John didn’t object.

“Oh, there’s a documentary on submarines that’s meant to be…”

Aaron tuned out the rest, numbly nodding as John, none the wiser, put on the film and settled in.

Over the next, God, he had no idea how long, Aaron tried not to glance out the window or look at his phone or wonder just what his ex-husband was up to. It wasn’t his business anymore. Robert could be friends with whoever he wanted, and go on dates with whoever he wanted, and fall in love with who…

He leapt up off the couch, nausea swirling in his gut as his heart hammered in his chest.

John stared at him, a worried line between his eyebrows.

“Aaron? Are you o—”

“Need the toilet,” he put down his plate of completely untouched dinner and backed out of the room. “Keep the film playin’, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Not waiting for a reply, he shut himself in the bathroom and tried to control his suddenly haggard breathing.

Resting his face against the mirror, he took a deep breath in and slowly let it out.

“Get a grip, Jesus,” he hissed to himself, while digging in his pocket for his phone and pulling up Mackenzie’s number.

It rang exactly twice before a far-too-enthusiastic voice picked up.

“Aaron, mate, I had a feelin’ you’d be callin’.”

He swallowed down every curse word and snappy comeback he wanted to lob at his best mate and growled, “What’s this I hear about you settin’ Rob up with Logan?”

An annoyingly smug chuckle sounded down the phone.

“Heard about that, did’cha?”

“Mackenzie.”

“Oh, fine, it’s not like it’s a big secret, 007,” Mack sighed, and Aaron could practically see him rolling his eyes. “It’s exactly what it says on the tin. Logan’s visitin’, and I couldn’t take him out on the town tonight, so I set him up with an eligible bisexual bachelor instead. It’s called being a good friend.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a saint,” Aaron shot back, tone dripping with sarcasm and hating himself for it.

“I didn’t think you’d mind, considerin’ you’re all loved up with Hubby Number Two,” Mack remarked lightly, knowing well he minded far more than he’d ever admit. “Sugden Lite, Diet Sugden, Sugden Zero—”

“Mack.”

A laugh was bubbling up his chest and mixing with his initial annoyance, but he’d be fucked if he ever let Mackenzie know he found him funny. Sometimes. On occasion.

Robert was the same way. Give him an inch, and he’d take a mile. The bastard.

“Was there any particular reason for this call, Aaron, or can I get back to what I was doin’?”

Aaron stared at himself in the mirror, taking another deep breath and letting it out.

“What were ya doing, anyway, that ya couldn’t meet up with Logan?”

“Jesus, the fuzz wouldn’t even ask me that,” Mack snorted, and Aaron could practically see him wink. “Mind yer ain business, Dingle. Pint tomorrow?”

That was that, then.

Aaron knew a lost cause when he heard one.

“Alright, yeah, see ya then. Judas.”

Another laugh trickled down the line.

“Maybe ask yerself why me settin’ up your ex on a date with a fit Scotsman feels like betrayal, when you’ve said time and time again to anyone who’ll listen that you want him to move on, eh? Ya might figure out a couple’a things and save me the bother next time.”

The dial tone punctuated his point.

Aaron lowered the phone from his ear and gritted his teeth.

Fuckin’ Mackenzie Boyd.

Resigning himself to his fate, he took another deep breath and made his way back out to the living room, only to find John mid-kip in front of the telly, the boring monotone of the narrator the only sound over his soft snores.

Alright. Maybe he’d have that pint now, then.

~*~

Robert hated to admit it, but—Mackenzie was right. Logan was ‘dead fit.’

And funny.

Smart.

Charming.

And, yep, a good kisser too.

(Though he wasn’t sure if Mack knew that last one. Probably not. Maybe? He kinda had his suspicions about him, sometimes.)

He pulled back from the admittedly good kiss and bit his lip, staring down into chocolate brown eyes, hating that he wished they were sea blue instead.

“Pint?”

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Logan was staying in The Grange for the weekend, so of course, the only place close by to get that pint would be…The Woolpack. That was currently full to the brim with his ex-in-laws because it was a day that ended in ‘Y.’

They’d be lambs walking into a lion’s cage.

“Lead the way,” Logan smiled back before Robert could backpeddle and shit, yeah, there was Chas right at the bar, Charity wiping glasses, Sam sitting gormless with Belle and Aaron—

Fuck.

They locked eyes, Robert frozen on the spot, distantly aware that Logan was saying something to him but not hearing a word.

Because Aaron was staring right at him with those unfairly gorgeous blue eyes. Drinking him in with that quiet intensity that took his breath away from day one, over eleven years ago.

Some things never change.

“...Robert?”

“Hm, what?” he dragged his gaze away from his ex-husband and forced his attention on his date.

His date. Logan. Who was looking at him with a far-too-knowing stare.

“I said, what are ya havin’? It’s my round.”

Mumbling the first thing that came to mind, he took a seat, his legs feeling a little shaky, no matter how much he scolded himself.

Aaron went and married his half-brother, for fuck’s sake. Robert, being on a casual date with a man shouldn’t feel wrong. Shouldn’t feel like he’s cheating right in front of him because Aaron wasn’t his anymore. He wasn’t Aaron’s. They weren’t anything to each other anymore and—

And that just isn’t true, is it?

Aaron still hadn’t looked away. Robert didn’t need to be staring directly at him to know that. He could feel it.

“Here we are,” Logan grinned as he placed a pint in front of him and sank down beside him. “So, this is The Woolpack, eh? Mack’s second home, now.”

Robert nodded, trying and failing to ignore the multiple pairs of eyes that were on them now.

The rest of the Dingles had noticed them, then.

Great.

“Yeah, his wife, Charity, owns the place,” he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink, itching to tear up the beer mat in front of him.

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, he mentioned Charity. Was gutted I missed the wedding. Heard it was…unique.”

Robert shrugged, “I couldn’t tell ya, I missed it too. I was…” he trailed off, realising he didn’t really want to delve into where he was and why right this second.

Logan nudged his shoulder with his.

“Me too.”

Robert’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“You were in prison during Mackenzie’s wedding?”

“Yep,” Logan chuckled. “I thought Mack told ya I’d been inside too?”

“He… alluded.”

Logan laughed, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

They shared a smile, and Robert felt himself relax a bit, something loosening in his chest.

“So, the lad at the bar currently glaring daggers into my skull, that’s your ex, then?”

Robert tensed all over again.

“What?”

Logan tilted his head ever so slightly in Aaron’s direction.

“That lad—dark hair, ruggedly handsome, intense as fuck. That’s your ex-husband? Aaron, right?”

“What exactly did Mackenzie tell you?”

“Oh, this wasn’t Mack’s doin’. You’ve mentioned ‘Aaron’ like a dozen times since Hotten. It doesn’t take a genius.”

Robert winced, opening his mouth—

“Don’t apologise. I get it.”

“I’m not sure ya do.”

“Maybe not,” Logan nudged his shoulder again. “But I don’t mind. Let ‘im look. We could even give ‘im a show, if ya want?”

Before he could try to come up with a response to that, a very familiar and very unwelcome figure walked through the door, a thunderous expression on his face.

Unable to help himself, Robert smirked.

“Hello, Johnny. Looking for someone?”

John glanced from where Aaron was now straightening up at the bar, looking oddly caught out, to where Robert sat with Logan.

“Robert,” he gritted between his teeth. “This the next man whose life you’re gonna ruin?”

Before he could reply, Aaron appeared at John’s side, speaking lowly.

“I just nipped in for a quick pint, didn’t wanna wake ya, but let’s go, yeah? Finish the film.”

Robert snorted, gaze trailing Aaron’s face.

“Lemme guess, something boring. A war documentary? Navy ships? Am I close?”

Aaron’s jaw tightened, telling him everything.

Unable to shove down his amusement, Robert turned to Logan, waving a hand.

“John, Aaron, this is Logan, my date. Logan, this is John, my long-lost half-brother, and Aaron, my hus…brother-in-law.”

He caught his slip, but he knew they all heard it. It was also the first time he had uttered the words ‘brother-in-law’ in the same sentence as ‘Aaron’ out loud, and it tasted foul. Like someone had switched his pint with filthy drain water.

He could see Logan’s shocked expression out of the corner of his eye and surmised that Mackenzie had left that little nugget of information out of his lowdown on Robert Sugden.

“Nice to meet you,” John said, sounding like he meant anything but as he leaned closer. “But watch yourself with this one, eh? He’s just got out of prison.”

Logan caught Robert’s eye before leaning in and chuckling.

“Well, there’s a coincidence for ya. Me too. Expect I’ll be alright, so.”

He winked before staring at Aaron, standing up, and hooking a thumb behind him.

“Gotta see a man about a horse,” he murmured, heading for the toilets.

Robert watched him go, sipping his pint.

“Anything else I can help ya with, Johnny boy, or…?”

“I know what you’re doing, ya know,” John growled as Aaron made an aborted gesture to hold him back. “And it’s not gonna work. You’re not gonna flaunt some fling in here in front of Aaron and get him to come runnin’ back to ya or something, you hear me?”

Robert blinked, and before he knew it, he was on his feet.

“Oi!” Chas yelled from across the pub. “I want no trouble in here, you hear me, Robert Sugden? Take it outside, all of ya.”

Shooting his gem of an ex-mother-in-law a smile, he walked out, John and Aaron hot on his heels.

“First of all, Johnny Not So Good,” he said lightly as soon as they stepped out into the night air and the door shut behind them. “What I do or do not do in this village is none of your business. Second of all, I’m not in the habit of manipulating the man I love. I didn’t even know Aaron was in there. Last I heard from Mack was that Aaron was having a ‘lovely, quiet night in’ with you. So, I had no plans to make him jealous.”

John gave a hollow laugh, stepping towards him.

“‘Not in the habit of manipulating?’ That’s not the way I’ve heard it.”

Something painful twinged in Robert’s chest at that, as he couldn’t help but look at Aaron, who wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Yeah, well. Maybe that was true once upon a time. But people change.”

“Not you,” John glared, taking another step towards him and jabbing a finger in his face. “You’re a bad apple, Robert. Always have been from what I’ve gleaned about ya around here. Everyone says it. Chas, Victoria, Paddy…” he trailed off, looking right at Aaron and letting Robert fill in the blanks.

That pain in his chest twisted like a knife.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Robert smacked his hand away. “You’re better than me in every way,” he paused, a slow, smug smirk crossing his face as he finally caught Aaron’s eye, winking. “Well, not every way, eh, Aaron?”

John lunged at him, but Aaron was faster, holding him back as Robert let out a cold laugh.

“I already told ya, Johnny Do Wrong, you should be worried. And everyone knows it. Victoria, Paddy, Chas, Mack, Aaron, hell, even deep down, you. Your marriage was cursed from the start. Not ten minutes before your wedding, Aaron was kissing me, and, the cherry on top, his own best friend, his Best Man, even missed the big day. If that isn’t a bad omen, I dunno what is…”

Robert was on a roll now, the whole world narrowing down to just the three of them as he delivered the final blow.

“Don’t worry, though, Johnny boy, Mack’ll be Best Man at his next one…” he laughed, leaning down to stare right into his brother’s eyes. “Remember, Aaron loved me so much he married me twice. So, whatcha think? Could we go for a hat-trick?”

John lunged for him again, but Aaron held him tighter.

“Give over, Rob,” he growled but didn’t look at him, just as Logan emerged in the doorway, looking puzzled and intrigued.

“What’d I miss?”

Robert turned to him, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Family drama, it’s rampant round here,” he remarked lightly. “Walk ya back to the B&B?”

Ignoring Aaron’s heavy stare, he strode away, side by side with Logan, letting their shoulders bump together.

He knew it wasn’t fair, was shitty and a low-blow, especially for Aaron’s ears to hear, but he had meant every word he’d said. Despite everything, despite himself, he still had hope.

Hope for them. Hope for what they could be again.

And it was probably going to be his downfall.

So for now, he shoved it underneath all the years of yearning and pain and love for a man that wasn’t his anymore, ignored his tit of a brother and walked his date home.

Robert Jacob Sugden was a lot of things. He was smug, arrogant and cocky with a bad taste in music and who dances worse than Paddy Kirk. But one thing he wasn’t was a quitter.

Neither was Aaron Dingle.

And for now? That was enough.

~*~

Aaron watched, his stomach in knots and his chest tight, as Robert walked away with Mack’s stupidly fit friend.

They had kissed earlier. Just before heading into The Woolpack.

Aaron had seen them from where he had been standing outside, trying to cajole his best friend into a sneaky pint with him from wherever he was hiding, only to look up and feel his whole world tilt on its axis.

Because there Robert stood, his ex-husband and not-so-ex love of his life, twenty yards from him, his lips locked with another man’s.

A man who wasn’t him.

Over the years, he had seen Robert with other people before, sure. Women. More than one. And yeah, it had bothered him, of course it had. But not like this. This felt different. When Robert had been with women in the past, Aaron could fool himself into thinking it was because they, as women, had something he didn’t. They could, as women, give Robert something he couldn’t. But to see him with another man? That he couldn’t fool himself into thinking anything but, see? It’s not that he doesn’t want a man. It’s that he doesn’t want you.

The thought felt like being cut by the sharpest knife and drowned in ice-cold water at the same time.

(And Aaron would know. He’d experienced both in his lifetime.)

He felt like that because it was Aaron who helped Robert accept that part of himself. It was Aaron he wanted to be himself with, and he had fallen in love with and realised that he wasn’t a disappointment with. Aaron. Not Chrissie, or Katie, or Rebecca, or…what was his name, again? Lorcan? No, Logan. Not him either.

And yet, as much as he hated admitting it to himself, watching Robert kiss another man, a man who wasn’t him…hurt in a way he hadn’t expected it to after all this time.

But he had no right to feel that way. He knew that.

He’d gone and married Robert’s brother, for God’s sake.

Hypocrite.

Shoving those dark thoughts to the back of his mind, he practically dragged John back to The Mill, knowing another fight awaited them, but suddenly so, so sick and tired of it all.

“You just couldn’t keep away, could ya?”

He wanted to go to bed, but John’s tone and his glare told him that wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

“John, I swear. I just wanted a pint, that’s all. I had no idea Robert would be in the pub.”

Liar.

“We’re bound to run into each other. It’s a small village.”

Excuses.

“We’ll just give ‘em a wide berth, yeah? As much as we can.”

Empty promises.

The fight lasted well into the night. The same old issues cropping up over and over and over again until finally, Aaron just left the room, heading towards his bedroom and calling over his shoulder, “Follow me, or don’t. I’m going to bed.”

It was another while until he felt the bed dip.

He pretended to be asleep.

John actually fell asleep much quicker than he thought he would.

And all the while, Aaron thought of Robert.

Robert and his dramatic wedding crashing and declarations of love. Robert and his bruised and battered face, still so happy to see him when he got back out of prison. Robert and the love they once had, the life they once shared, the future they had been planning with Seb, and Liv and more kids on the horizon. Robert tonight, in his tight shirt and stupidly messy, ridiculous hair that he wanted nothing more than to run his hands through again for the first time in six years. Robert’s soft eyes and sharp tongue and that same tongue shoved down another man’s throat as he probably fucked Logan within an inch of his—

Aaron was tiptoeing out his front door before he fully caught his next breath.

It was cold, and his threadbare jumper and joggers didn’t do much to shield him from it. But Vic’s place was in his sights now, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make himself turn back. Go home. To the bed he shared with his husband. Who wasn’t Robert. Not anymore.

He knocked louder than he would have if he didn’t know that Victoria had taken Harry to visit Diane this weekend.

“Robert?” he yelled through the door, an urgency surging through him, a frantic panic as the thought that maybe he wasn’t home but instead up at the B&B, with fit, Scottish Logan with his tongue shoved down his—

“Aaron?”

The door swung open, revealing a sleep-rumpled Robert, in grey pyjama trousers and loose T-shirt, staring blearily down at him.

Aaron drank him in like a man parched, words flowing from him without thought.

“I think I’d rather never have you back than lose you again. That’s what you said to me once,” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Robert looked devastated as he heard his own words from so long ago repeated back to him.

He took a breath. His eyes wide, bright, and gorgeous.

“Aaron, what—”

“Did ya sleep with him?”

Robert blinked, arms crossing over his chest as his face hardened.

“I don’t think you get to ask me those kinda questions since you married my brother, Aaron.”

Aaron winced, knowing he was right. Knowing he was being beyond unfair, but not able to stop himself.

“Okay, let me ask ya something else, then.”

He took another deep breath, stepping closer to him, tilting his head up to look straight into those same eyes he had missed more than anything in the world.

“Is this me losing you, Robert?”

It was soft. Barely above a whisper. But he knew he had heard him, if the kaleidoscope of emotion crossing his face was any indication.

Robert heaved a sigh, reaching out and gripping his arms, tight, but not constricting. Comforting. Warm. Everything.

“You could never lose me, Aaron. I told you. I’m not going anywhere. Never again.”

His thumb swept over his forearm, right where his faded scars lay underneath his sleeve.

“And no, I didn’t sleep with him. I walked him to the door and said goodnight because all I could think about is you, because…well, you know.”

A broken sob tried its best to wrench its way out of Aaron’s chest.

But he kept it together. He had to get this out. He’d waited over half a decade. It was time.

“I know,” he gripped the edge of Robert’s T-shirt, summoning every ounce of strength he had. “So if we…if we do this, Rob, can you promise me, swear to me, that we will do everything we can not to lose each other? Never again. Because that’s what I need, Robert. I can’t…I can’t do what I want to do without being sure of that. Because I can’t lose you again. I won’t. It will kill me.”

Robert reached up and cupped his cheek, his gaze unwavering.

“We won’t lose each other, Aaron. Not again, never again. I swear, I promise, I—”

Aaron leaned up and crashed their lips together, pushing him over the threshold and kicking the door closed behind him.

Robert kissed him back instantly, as if it were inevitable, and maybe in a way it always was, ever since that day on the bridge.

(Ever since the lay-by, really.)

Robert kissed him like it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life. And Aaron kissed him back.

Because, yeah. It was one of the only things he wanted to do for the rest of his life. That, and so, so much more. With Robert.

It was a terrible idea, and would definitely blow up his life worse than he ever had, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Because it was Robert. It was always Robert. It would always be…Robert.

Messed up. With him. Forever.

And no husband or blind date or prison sentence would ever change that. For either of them.

He broke the kiss, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, watching Robert do the same, their breaths mingling with their lips barely an inch apart. And suddenly, a memory came to him, from the deep recesses of his brain, making Aaron smile, his hands coming up to finally rake through that ridiculous hair that he loved so much, because despite everything still unspoken between them, he knew only three more little words needed to be said tonight.

“Right. Upstairs. Now.”

Somewhere, out there, Mackenzie is throwing one hell of a party and filling Charity in on his matchmaking genius🥳

I might do a smutty part two if people are interested? Would love to know what you think. Thanks! ❤️

#robron #emmerdale #aaron dingle #robert sugden #mackenzie boyd #anti john sugden #my fanfiction

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