#I made these instead of studying whoops-

[quiverymango]

The Sillies

Feel free to use any of these without credit. Go spread the silliness :)

#omori #omori plush #omori heromari #omori suntan #omori photobomb #omori sunflower #omori sunburn #omori cactiflower #omori kelbrey #I woke up in a cold sweat today thinking “I have to make these” #I just really like it when people post pictures of the plushes so I wanted to make some with transparent backgrounds! #I made these instead of studying whoops- #mango rambles

[indecisive-capricorn]

Priorities || Miguel O'Hara x Wife Reader

WARNINGS: Loads of fluff, a few mentions of blood, mentions of pain, slight angst, children, Mama O'Hara in action, Baby O'Hara, stubborn Miguel O'Hara, father Miguel O'Hara, etc.

SUMMARY: Miguel got injured after a mission and you insist for your stubborn husband to go to the medical center.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I got all of the medical information, especially the teething one, from the internet, so take it with a grain of salt since I didn't do much research on it. If it's wrong, please tell me and I'll correct it as soon as I can. :) And I know I'm a little late to publish this but I had to rewrite it twice because it kept on not getting saved.

MASTERLIST: Feel free to check out my other works! :)

"She won't like this," Lyla remarked as she observed Miguel who was focused on tying the wound on his arm with a bandage. He didn't respond to Lyla's words, leading her to point out, "That cut isn't small either. It'll bleed right through the bandage if you keep it for long."

Miguel merely grumbled in response, feeling discomfort from his wound, while Lyla studied his wounded arm, concerned about the potential of an infection.

"I'm only going to check on the recruits' reports for a minute," Miguel voiced under his mask, before narrowing his eyes at Lyla, "and don't tell her about this. She already has enough to worry about."

Lyla rolled her eyes at Miguel's command, but surprisingly, she stayed silent instead of pestering him to tell you about his recent injury. It was unusual for her since Lyla would usually insist for Miguel to update you about everything after he had finished his missions, especially if he got injured. However, Miguel made no comment about it, not wanting to jinx his luck or change Lyla's mind to not pester him about it like last time.

When Miguel went into his office, expecting to see a large pile of reports on his desk, he was instead met with the sight of you standing in front of his desk, holding the baby car seat that carried your sleeping baby boy. Miguel would usually be in awe at the sight of his little boy and his beautiful wife, and he would have done so at that very moment. However, it was impossible for Miguel to not notice the intense glare you were shooting at him, telling him that he had fucked up.

"Whoops! I forgot to tell you, she's already in your office," Lyla said casually, her tone nonchalant, as if she had known about your arrival and purposely chose not to tell Miguel. And he couldn't shake the feeling that Lyla did do it on purpose.

Miguel cursed in his mind and made a mental note to find a way to get Lyla to notify him of your arrival at HQ in the future, although he knew it would most likely fail due to how much she adore you over him.

"Miguel O'Hara," your voice was sharp and stern yet it was laced with concern as well, your eyes glancing back and forth between his face and his wound, "why aren't you at the medical center right now?"

"I need to check on the reports, cariño," Miguel stated, already expecting your disbelief and the scolding you were going to give him for his stubbornness. Before you could voice your protest to Miguel, he interjected, "I was only going to take them and check it in the medical center while they treat me."

That wasn't Miguel's original plan though. He had intended to put off going to the medical center for as long as he could to continue working, possibly only going to the medical center at the last hour of the day. That way, you wouldn't scold him for not treating his wound and ban him from going on missions for a while, which you have done in the past. You can be a really scary lady at times. Although he was very intelligent, Miguel tend to be obsessed with finishing his work at times to the point that he would dismiss his wounds and insist that they were only "small scratches".

They weren't just "small scratches".

And knowing your husband's tendencies, you found it hard to believe that he had planned to take the reports to the medical center with him instead of continuing his work in his office. Raising an eyebrow, Miguel was prepared for you to question him about it. However, instead of pressing further on the matter, you surprised Miguel by asking, "And have you eaten yet before your mission?"

"Of course I have—" Miguel paused mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that he hadn't eaten anything before the mission. In fact, the only thing preventing him from experiencing gastric pains was likely the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you had made for him that morning. However, at that moment, Miguel also realized the reason you had come to headquarters- he had forgotten to bring the homemade lunch you had packed for him before he left for work.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he caught a glimpse of the lunch box you had brought for him on his desk, along with a small note containing your usual declarations of love for him, which never failed to bring him motivation. He cherished these notes, keeping them secretly tucked away in a special place.

"Mi vida, how long have you been waiting for me?" Guilt began to brew in Miguel's stomach, knowing that you wouldn't mind waiting for him to return from his mission just to catch a glimpse of him for a moment.

You shook your head gently. "I didn't mind waiting," you responded back, avoiding his question. The mission had stretched on for more than three hours, and with it already being around three o'clock in the afternoon, and the fact that you weren't one to delay meals, Miguel knew you had likely been waiting for almost three hours for him as well.

Before Miguel could respond, he felt something trickling down his arm. Looking down, he saw blood seeping from his wound. You quickly rushed to Miguel's side and inspected the injury, a frown forming on your face. "We have to go to the medical center now before it gets infected," you firmly said, taking no arguments from him. "The reports can wait. It won't be the end of the world, amor. Peter and the others will take care of it."

Miguel nodded and gently took the baby car seat from you with his uninjured arm, though you tried to protest, insisting that he was in no condition to carry anything and that you were perfectly capable of carrying baby Benjamin yourself.

As he carried Benjamin, Miguel felt a wave of guilt wash over him for forgetting to bring the homemade lunch you had worked so hard on to work, especially since you were barely getting enough rest lately from taking care of Benjamin who recently began having teething pains and became increasingly restless due to it.

Miguel had done his best to help soothe Benjamin's teething pain whenever he could, even taking a few days off work to care for him alongside you at home. However, he eventually had to return to work, as the Spider Society needed him physically for missions as well. At first, Miguel wanted to hide his injury from you to avoid adding more stress, but he knew you would find out about his wound eventually.

On the way to the medical center, Miguel made sure to be mindful of his steps, not wanting to wake Benjamin up. The last thing either of you needed was for him to wake up, especially since the poor baby was already struggling to sleep due to his teething pain.

When Miguel arrived at the medical center, the spider-healer in charge was slightly surprised to see him, knowing how stubborn he could be and how he sometimes insisted on treating his own wounds. However, it made sense to the healer when you arrived alongside him. The spider-healer pulled aside a chair for Miguel to sit on while they began treating the wound on his arm.

Throughout the treatment, Miguel remained quiet, only grunting slightly as the healer worked. You watched the healer's movements carefully, placing a comforting hand over Miguel's to soothe him. A moment after the healer was finished stitching Miguel's wound up, Benjamin began to cry from the baby car seat, slowly waking up from his slumber.

Miguel's eyes softened as he watched you lift the crying baby from the car seat, cradling him close to your chest. You rocked Benjamin gently back and forth, murmuring soft words of comfort as you rubbed his back soothingly. Benjamin's cries gradually softened, feeling warmth from his mother's embrace.

"Did you have a nightmare, Benji?" You asked the seven month old in a gentle tone, as he lifted his head from your chest, his eyes looking around his surroundings until he stopped at Miguel. With a soft noise, Benjamin leaned towards his father, seeking comfort in his arms.

Miguel's heart swelled with warmth at Benjamin's action, and he carefully accepted him into his arms, mindful of his stitched arm. Despite the caution, you could see Miguel's eyes sparkle with love and adoration as he held Benjamin close.

Miguel chuckled affectionately as Benjamin grabbed a handful of his dark hair with his tiny hands. "Did you miss me, tesoro?" he asked Benjamin, his voice filled with warmth. In response, Benjamin babbled happily, his tiny hands still tightly gripping Miguel's hair.

"I'm sorry for not telling the truth to you, mi amor," Miguel apologized to you sincerely, his voice laced with regret. With Benjamin now distracted by the toys you had brought, Miguel took a moment to express his remorse, gazing into your eyes for forgiveness.

He reached out, gently grasping your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckle in a comforting gesture. "You were already stressed with Benjamin, and I didn't want to worry you any more with my injury," Miguel explained softly.

You sighed, expressing your concerns gently but firmly. "Miggy, I'm always grateful for how hard you work for our family, and I understand how important your role is in the Spider Society. But I sometimes get worried that you're not taking care of yourself properly at work like you used to, especially after what happened today," you frowned, knowing that Miguel's old work habits were hard to shake off.

As you intertwined your fingers with his, you continued, your voice filled with genuine care, "You getting injured worries me a lot, but what worries me more is the way you brush off your injuries and continue pushing yourself as if nothing happened."

Worry was evident in your eyes. "Please promise me that you'll prioritize your health over your work and treat your wounds properly after missions. And if you're struggling to remember to eat and drink, I can come by here everyday and remind you about it. I'm still on maternity leave, remember?" You added with a reassuring smile, showing him how much you care about his health.

He squeezed your hand gently. "I remember, and you're right. I promise to take better care of myself for you and Benjamin," He leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, feeling grateful for your love and care.

Benjamin, ever the adorable child he is, wiggled his way between you and Miguel, continuing to babble joyfully. With chubby fingers, he repeatedly pointed to his cheek, a clear invitation for you and Miguel to leave kisses.

"Do you want a kiss too, Benji?" you cooed, your voice filled with affection and awe at the little boy's action. Without waiting for an answer, you peppered Benjamin with kisses all over his face, earning delighted squeals of laughter from him.

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle, staring at you and Benjamin with a smile, as he was silently thankful for the chance to have his own family again.

#atsv miguel #spiderman #marvel #imagines #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 99 #spiderman x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #fluff #spiderman fluff #miguel o hara fluff

[megumiivs]

office hours ♡

T.A.!choso x student!reader

mdni 18+ content

ೃ⁀➷ content: p in v, creampie, praise kink, dumbification if u squint, no plot ¡! ❞

how did you get here, bent over the desk, face pressed into the wooden desk and legs spread open like a whore for him? for choso, your T.A. you had come for office hours for fucks sake. but god, the way he was pounding your cunt was too good to make you care about your grade. the homework in your bag all but forgotten. papers that were previously organized neatly on the desk were messily strewn all over the floor, a result of choso’s harsh thrusts.

“fuuuckkk” he groaned, slowing down and pulling out to look down at the ring of white around his dick. “so fucking good, baby. you’re such a good fucking girl.” he slowly slides back in admiring the way your pussy sucked him back in. god, his head was spinning from the feel of your tight, hot pussy. “taking me so well, baby.”

the praise makes you whine as you tighten up around nothing. he slides his hands over your chest, touching and massaging your boobs as he begins to pick up the pace, angling his hips so he could go deeper. you moan at the feeling, bucking your hips back eagerly to meet his thrusts.

“more, cho, please” you cry out. “don’t stop, dont stop.” god, he was so deep. you can feel him hit your cervix with each thrust. the only thing on your mind right now was his thick hard cock that was filling you up so well.

“ ‘m not stopping baby” he responds, reaching one hand down to rub your clit in small circles. “tight ass pussy. ‘s like you were made for me.”

he lifting your left leg up to rest on his shoulder. he pushes back in, bottoming out with one harsh thrust. god you were so full of him you could feel him in your stomach.

you whine again, the tell tale feeling rapidly approaching. you couldn’t do anything but moan is name over and over and over. what were you even here for again? you didn’t know anything anymore. all you knew was choso. his name was a mantra spilling from your lips.

choso leans forward, mouth close to your ear and whispered, “be a good girl and cum for me sweetheart.”

your vision goes white as the cord snaps and you cum. choso groans when he feels your walls tighten. he fucks you through your orgasm, hips starting to stutter as he begins to reach his own high. he thrusts a few more times before he asks, “where?”

no response. you were truly fucked dumb. “where?” he grunts again, trying not to cum too early.

“inside, choso, inside” you respond with an embarrassing whimper. “please, need you” choso groans at the thought of filling you up to the brim and after two more thrusts, he does just that, his cum spills into you in thick hot ropes, painting your walls white.

“take it all baby.” he pants out, working through his own orgasm. “don’t waste a single drop.”

you dumbly nod, too fucked out to truly process what he was saying. he slowly begins to pull out with a groan and you can feel some of his cum begin to drip out of your pussy before he reaches down and pushes it back in with his fingers.

“fuck that’s hot.” he says. you can’t do anything but lay there on the desk, breathing heavily, body sore and brain fried. choso presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“so what did you need help on?”

lilith’s note: lil test work i wrote instead of studying for my midterm whoops!

#˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ lilith’s love #jjk choso #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x female reader #choso kamo #choso x y/n

[cherhys]

Anything, Always

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhysand has been running himself ragged, and it hasn’t escaped your notice. In an effort to quell old nightmares, Rhysand has an interesting suggestion…

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Mild angst (pining + UTM reminder whoops), Feelings™️

Notes: The longest fic to date! I was working on some Azriel WIPs when this piece just happened. I wanted Rhys to get some well-deserved, utterly devoted, loving. Thank you for all the support so far; it means more than you know! ♡

You noticed that as the week has passed, you’ve seen less and less of Rhys around the townhouse. First, it was less frequented dinners, followed by mornings spent alone. Being High Lord is no easy task, but it’s all the more reason for you to lend a helping hand where possible. Instead, all of your offers have been promptly shut down with a wry smile leaving little room for argument since it's nothing more than I usually deal with, darling. 

His words echo in your head as you approach his office, the ease with which he said them in juxtaposition with the dark circles beneath his eyes. You doubt he’s been sleeping very well; it was no secret that the High Lord preferred staying up in the evenings, but he always reclaimed that sleep the following morning. Recently you’ve observed his absence from the townhouse in favour of training even before Cassian, the earliest morning bird you know. This simply could not go on—he had to take care of himself. A male like him deserved better than that.

The door to his study was closed and after a brief knock, you slowly cracked it open to peer inside. His head didn’t so much as lift from where he was scanning his papers, a crease between his ink-dark eyebrows. The evening light filtered through the windows behind him, casting him in an iridescent glow befitting his title. He had changed into a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal solid tan forearms corded with prominent veins. He scrubbed a calloused hand along his uncharacteristically scruffy jaw. The usual sparkle in his jewel-tone eyes was lost to his evident lack of sleep.

Despite this, he was still the most beautiful male you’ve ever beheld. Even feeling ragged, Rhysand was nothing short of magnificent. No amount of stress could take away from his plush lips, the delicate column of his neck, and the elegant sweep of his collarbones leading to the strong planes of his chest. The age-old flutter in your chest surfaced, a delicate thing you had neglected for so long. 

“You can come in, darling.” Finally, those tired eyes lifted to yours where you stood in the doorway. When you don’t move he sweeps a hand towards the cushioned chairs before his rich mahogany desk. You quash any semblance of that flutter until a deep void is all that remains in your chest; a talent you had mastered after all these years.

“I’d say I’m surprised to find my dearest High Lord secluded in his office on a Friday evening, but I made an oath not to lie.” You idle your way in, running your finger along the books on his shelf. You frown at the faint layer of dust over his more loved collections. 

“Well, Friday evening or not, doesn’t my dearest advisor have work to do instead of chatting me up like some girl at Rita’s?” Like a delicate brush stroke, his ebony brow arched. Rhysand’s eyes tracked your approach as you walked around the spacious office, feet padding against the soft carpet. The snack you had brought him earlier remained untouched on his desk, and you clenched your clasped hands behind your back. 

“Girls at bars aren't worth my time, though it wouldn’t hurt for you to try. All you do is hide away here; you’ll have the year-end papers done at this rate.”

He shrugged, nonchalant, “Better to be more prepared than found lacking, no?”

You stopped before his desk and stared, “It’s only springtime Rhysand.” At your unflinching gaze, he sighed.

“I was unimpressed with some of the projections submitted by the Court of Nightmares. Sloppy work.” His jaw worked in time to the pulse in his neck. You nodded, acquiescing as much. As Rhysand’s advisor, you were expressly aware of the substandard documents that Kier had submitted. Despite his abysmal summation of the Court of Nightmare’s projections, Kier could receive a verbal (or literal) lashing later. 

“Rhys, this isn’t an express concern at the moment.” He dropped his head back to his papers, dipping the fountain pen in the inkwell. The sound of your breathing and scratching on parchment permeated the silence. The dismissal was clear, though surprisingly cruel from your usual playful High Lord.

“Rhys, look at me.” Despite your pleading tone, he remained fixed on his writing. In a few swift steps, you rounded the desk. You placed a gentle hand beneath his chin, lifting his face to your searching eyes. Where his silence was defiant, now there is only weariness. 

“Rhysand… what’s wrong honey?” The endearment slips out, but your chest constricts at the sight of the defeated male before you. You miss your charming friend. Your thumb lightly caresses his cheek and his lashes flutter at the sensation. He gives you a wry smile and grips your fingers in his warm hand, “Nothing is wrong. I’m only a little tired.” 

You breathed deeply, willing yourself to remain calm. Rhysand was known to undertake everything by himself, an expression of his love towards his family. While you appreciate the care he tries to show, his selflessness couldn’t happen at the expense of his well-being. This was something different. 

Your silence unnerved the usually unshakeable male, and he seemed to deflate under your scrutiny. So you waited—let him process his thoughts, choose what he wanted to say. 

When his grip tightened on your hand but his silence persisted, you offered an olive branch.

“I have never been able to share my feelings with ease; to feel so much… it is an overwhelming burden. And yet–” You took a steadying breath, hesitant to reveal so much but unable to help him understand otherwise. His expectant gaze was patient, if not encouraging. 

“And yet, unravelling my feelings and sharing them with you is effortless. With you, I know I am safe. That I am understood. Rhysand, I want to be that person for you. You are welcome to share, and I will always be there to listen.”

When you finished, you shifted to perch on the desk space poised between his legs. Rhysand unconsciously moved his chair closer, his head pressing into your jointly entwined hands. He slowly inhaled, the scent of you a balm to his fraying senses. 

“They’re back. She’s back,” Rhys didn’t need to elaborate on who and what for you to catch his meaning. You had known that nightmares plagued him often in the time since his return from Under the Mountain. Years had passed since then but the horrors he endured were not easily forgotten, “I don’t know what to do.”

The defeat in his tone nearly brought tears to your eyes, but you reigned them in—this was his opportunity to be vulnerable and you must remain strong. 

“I think about all of the lives I–... I think about all of it, often. It is never not on my mind, but I can usually move past it. You all help,” At this, he squeezed your palm again, an earnest look in his violet eyes, “But sometimes the guilt–” He loosed a sigh, shaking his head, “It is unbearable.’

Rhysand pulled his hand away from yours, leaving it cold. He stared down at his hands between you both as if all of his sins were still visible. To him, you’re sure they were. 

His voice was lowered to a whisper now, “When I sleep, she taunts me. She stokes that guilt from an ember to a flame and eats away at me. All I can think to do is run myself ragged, in some form of masochistic repenting.”

Rhys glances up at you, his heart dropping when he sees your eyes are closed. Even you couldn’t bear to look at him after what he had done. Clenching his jaw, he begins to pull away and prepares for your imminent disgust. 

He doesn’t expect you to grip his cheeks, and pull him back to you. Rhysand’s eyes are comically large this close, your noses a hair's breadth away from touching. He has never seen your mouth set in such a serious line, your eyes blazing with such fire.

“Listen to me very closely. Everything you did? It was necessary for survival. For yours. For the Night Court’s. For our family’s. It is only normal to feel guilt—that’s what makes you the wonderful, kind male I know.” Your hands pressed almost painfully, as if you could physically push the words into his head, “But you should never regret what you did. Because it brought you back to us.” To me, but you left that part unspoken. 

When he seems to hesitate you reinforce, “Any of us would’ve done it for you. If I could've traded places with you I would have done so in a heartbeat, Rhysand. And it kills me to see you blame yourself. You can repay those you mourn by living your life to the fullest in their honour.”

He regards you for a moment, plush lip pulled tightly between his teeth. Rhysand nods slowly at your searching stare, the sorrow clearing from his eyes like clouds in a bright night sky. Those stars you so love wink back at you from his midnight gaze. 

Unable to help yourself, you swoop him up into your tight embrace. Rhys’s strong arms wrap around you in no time, his head at your breast. He can hear the rapid but sure beating of your heart and it brings him a peace that he hasn’t felt since the nightmares returned. 

“Thank you.” His soft words lift your heart and you place a swift kiss on the top of his head. 

“Always.” 

You stroke his raven hair in soothing motions, running your nails lightly along his scalp. Rhys visibly relaxes in your hold, his shoulders slumping with a weight unloaded. You dare to enjoy the moment, knowing that the likes of these are few and far between; you seldom let yourself get this close, the ache in your heart too much.

Finally, you pull away, a determined look on your face, “How can I help you, Rhys?”

His face softened, and he let out a light chuckle, “I doubt you can, darling. This is just one of those things.”

“It most certainly will not be one of those things. There has to be something; maybe if we help you relax? A sleeping draught?”

He winced at that, “No sleeping draughts, preferably. I’m not fond of drugging myself.”

You scratched your chin, “No, that doesn’t seem sustainable long term.”

While you brainstormed ideas to help the male before you, Rhys glanced at you through thick lashes. He had begun to fiddle with the fountain pen, twisting the top, “I think I may have a suggestion.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, “Already? What is it?” A beaming smile stretched across your face—anything. You would do anything to help him. 

He locked his eyes on yours, voice level, “Sleep with me.”

You blinked, unmoving. You stared at him a few seconds longer, the words failing to process. You’re sure you must have stopped breathing, the thumping of your heart overwhelming your senses.

Sleep with me. 

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, “I’m sorry? ‘Sleep with you’?”

A million thoughts were spinning in your head, each faster than the last. Slick skin on skin; hands fisted in sheets, in hair, scratching down a tan, tatted back; clothes haphazardly strewn around the room; pleasurable pants filling the air. You shook your head. Surely you had misheard? Misunderstood? 

A cocky smile spread across Rhysand’s face, although the dusting of pink crawling up his neck isn't lost on you.

What dirty thoughts are you thinking, darling? That midnight voice lightly caressed your mental shields. 

Your cheeks were flaming if the heat under your skin was anything to go by. You persevered and pursed your lips in mock irritation. You would not be undone by his aimless teasing after all these years. 

Nothing that would involve the likes of you, the thought pushed right back at his adamantine mental shield. 

Rhysands thick lashes lowered, his bottom lip jutting slightly. You wondered what those plush lips would taste like. Although you knew he was playing at seducing you, it didn’t stop the primal need in you from rearing its ugly head. 

Would it truly be so bad with me, darling? You know I’d treat you well.

Your lashes fluttered; this had to stop before your heart wilted any further in your chest. 

“What is your real suggestion Rhys?” The serious cock of your brows sobered him up near immediately. The twinge in his chest only further cooled him; the way you brushed his teasing off irritated him for reasons beyond what he dared admit. 

“It is my real suggestion. I struggle with my sleep—therefore having you there will help.” The cool way he spoke, as if this was only a logical solution, helped to put you at ease. But you couldn’t help but wonder—

“Why me? How would I help?” 

He shrugged, “You seem peaceful.”

Your mind whirred at his laconic response. ‘Peaceful’? You couldn’t decide what to make of the situation, but one thing had always been clear. 

“I said I’d help you, however I could. If you believe me… sleeping beside you will be beneficial, then I’ll do it.” 

He nodded, the same calm look plastered on his face. Rhysand’s nonchalant manner bothered you: did this genuinely mean so little to him? If so, then you would treat it with the same aloof, professional fashion. 

“Alright then, we can try tonight if you’re willing?” 

His ink-dark eyebrows shot up, “You wish to begin right away?”

“The sooner the better, no?” You couldn’t allow any more sleepless nights; the faster you determined whether this would work, the more time you had to find different options before Rhys ran on empty. 

Rhysand’s head tilted, a panther sizing up its prey. Finally, he nodded in agreeance. 

Quickly, you stood from his desk, realizing you were still perched between his legs. You dusted off your skirts and swiftly moved to the door. With a hand on the frame, you turned, “Tonight in yours?”

He swallowed, your eyes tracking the bobbing of his Adam's apple along his smooth neck, “Yes, that’ll work just fine darling.”

You stepped away from his office, the final, sure look in Rhysand’s eyes burning through you even hours later. 

��𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

You nervously tugged on your silken sleep shorts, psyching yourself up to knock on Rhysand’s bedroom door.

After leaving his office earlier, your heart had been in your throat all day. Even at dinner in the House of Wind, you’d had to be snapped out of thought multiple times by members of your family. While circumventing the reason why you had been so inattentive, your friends spared no insult and pestered you to high hell. Your face had flushed, sure that Rhysand could pick up on your nervousness. Instead, there were no teasing comments; he only returned to his meal. 

Now before his room, you took a steadying breath and lightly knocked, in the unlikely event he had fallen asleep. At his faint call you entered, softly shutting the door behind you. The room was aptly decorated for a High Lord. Rich jewel tones complimented Night Court black in various opulent fabrics. Pointedly ignoring the massive bed, you took in the polished mahogany furniture, surely crafted by a masterful hand. From the intricately designed rugs, to the velvet cushions, and the elaborate drapery; it was all magnificent. However, it all paled in comparison to the male inhabiting the room. 

Rhys was lounging on a plush divan, drink and papers in hand, looking fresh from the finest of paintings. The loose shirt from earlier was gone, baring his muscled chest. Your eyes tracked along the elegant dark swirls that decorated his tan skin. A pair of black sleep pants adorned his lower body, looking dangerously low on his waist. As you gently padded over, you tried not to focus on the light smattering of dark hair leading below the band. He glanced up at you, violet eyes sparkling like the stars visible through the windows beyond him. 

His eyes slowly roved over your figure, noting your bare legs; how you clutched your cream robe, book in hand, a delicate lacy strap peeking out. He took a restrained sip of his amber drink. You settled on a comfortable settee across from him, the book already splayed across your lap. 

“Good evening, darling. Care for a drink?” He waved his glass lightly, the ice clinking softly. 

You chuckled, shaking your head, “I’m alright, thank you. Is it not a little late to indulge?”

He inspected his drink as if he might find the solution to all his problems within the crystal glass, “I find it soothes the nerves.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Are you nervous?”

Rhys lifted the drink to his mouth, only to gaze at you over the rim with heavy-lidded eyes, “With you? Always, darling. I mean—you simply strike such an imposing figure.”

You dramatically placed the back of your hand to your head, draping yourself over the settee with all the theatrics you could muster, “Oh, how I plague man with my beauty!”

A deep and joyous laugh broke the silence of the night. You glanced over at Rhysand in slight surprise to see his head thrown back, a hand to his chest. Your heart warmed at the clear mirth on his face. This was the Rhysand you had missed. You soon joined him, your laugh bubbling up with the vigour of a freshly opened champagne bottle. 

Gradually, you both settled into silence, and with a wink from Rhys, you both returned to your previous occupations. The cool breeze from the open window carried with it Rhysand’s citrus and sea smell, the faint note of jasmine like a goodnight’s kiss. You basked in the peaceful mood, snuggling closer to the settee with your book. You couldn’t help but look up at Rhys every few pages, taking in his striking profile as the ambient lighting cast shadows across his elegant features. Eventually, you noticed his eyelids beginning to droop and knew he was only stalling the inevitable. 

You yawned loudly, covering your mouth for effect, “I think it’s time we retire for the night.”

He smiled, gently placing his empty glass and papers aside, “I agree, darling. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Rhysand stood and stretched his arms over his head, and you quickly made your way over to his bed, refusing to stare any longer at his chest than necessary. You shed your robe and tossed it over a nearby chair while you both silently readied yourselves for bed. No longer was the silence comforting—instead, your heart threatened to burst from your chest. 

You didn't realize how stiff you were until Rhys settled under the covers beside you, the shroud of night concealing your reddened cheeks. You remained rigid, arms at your side like a soldier at attention. 

It’s only me, darling. The smooth voice slipped through the cracks of your mind. Rhysand’s low timber reminded you to take a deep breath—you turned towards him and lightly reached your hand out in the space between your pillows. Even in the stygian dark, his eyes shone brighter than ever. That midnight gaze fixed on your open palm. Slowly, he crept his large hand up and brought it to yours, strong fingers caressing your palm. You held your breath as he steadily entwined his fingers with yours, hand sliding across your own. You squeezed lightly in assurance, your eyes falling shut. 

Before the throes of sleep could claim you, a gentle caress to your conscience pulled you back. 

Can I hold you?

The whispered request was nearly lost in the haze between waking and dreams, but you would always come back for that voice. Beyond words, you pushed your consent to Rhysand’s mind.

Strong arms gently slid around you, pulling your back to a hard chest. Your synced breathing within that warm embrace finally lulled you to a peaceful sleep. 

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

Light filtering through the window assaults your eyes, bringing with it the realities of the morning. You stretch like a cat in the sun, silken sheets sliding across your bare legs. You hadn’t slept like that in years, Cauldron, centuries even. The sweet haze lingering from your sleep washed away once you noticed the empty—albeit still warm—bedside. You quickly sat up only to be interrupted by Rhysand waltzing in through the doors, breakfast in hand. 

“Good morning, darling. I hope you’re hungry—I’m loving the bedhead by the way.” He swooped over to the bed, deftly handling the large tray in hand as he settled back beside you. You swiftly patted your hair down, “Yes, good morning Rhysand.”

Your dry tone didn’t damper Rhys’s wide smirk one bit. He was glowing this morning with an air of contentment; the full night's sleep had done him well. 

He gestured to the amalgamation of various foods before you, “I wasn’t sure what you would be craving, so I grabbed a little bit of everything.” The delicious smell wafted before you, your stomach grumbling without consent.

“If this is how I’m treated, I don’t think I’ll ever leave.” You popped a berry into your mouth, relishing its succulent flavour. 

“Consider it a thank you,” You paused, buttered toast halfway to your mouth, at Rhysand’s words, “For giving me, perhaps, the best sleep I have had in my five centuries.”

The earnest look in his eyes prompted you to butter your toast more vigorously, hoping he would miss the rosy flush seeping across your features.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve never slept better either,” You smiled gently, hoping to not sound too heartfelt in your admission, “And there is no reason to thank me, Rhys. You know I’d do anything for you.”

You held your breath at the candid confession, praying he did not understand the real meaning behind your words. 

Instead, his chest swelled with emotion. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a swift kiss to your hair. 

“All the more reason for me to thank you, darling.”

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

The next few weeks continued much like that night; you would both lounge around in the evening and then retire to bed. Only, your inclination towards one another had become irresistible. The moment you got beneath the covers, you found yourself instinctually reaching for Rhysand’s embrace. Often, he held you close, your head poised at his soft neck. Occasionally, on the more difficult nights, you would swaddle Rhys tightly to your chest, caressing his hair as he was lulled to sleep by your steady heartbeat. 

However much you enjoyed your time in bed with Rhysand, you couldn’t deny the increasing difficulty with which to hide your escalating feelings. What were once mere fleeting glances, were now lingering stares; no dark circles were to be found on his handsome face, his beaming grin a drug that would surely consume you. Rather than have the moments together soothe your ache like a balm, you only craved his attention more so. 

As you both fell into your usual routine for the night and settled under the covers, you finally ripped the bandage from the festering wound. 

“I think I may sleep in my bed beginning tomorrow night.”

Rhysand’s body froze beneath your touch, his arms still only half around you. Quickly, you continued, “Your nightmares seem to have passed—which I am eternally grateful for—therefore I don’t see any reason why I should continue to sleep here.” With you, the words didn’t need to be spoken; they loomed in the air around you. 

A beat of silence passed before he spoke, “Why not?”

You gasped as he seized you closer to his chest. His breath was heaving while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. You quashed the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, reluctant to hurt your feelings further. 

You sighed, eyes closing, “Again, there is no reason–”

“I want you here. With me. That is the reason why you should stay.” 

You audibly swallowed, taking his words with a grain of salt. Your voice took on a placating tone as you lightly placed your palms on his chest, “I understand that you’re worried about the nightmares–”

“Darling, you understand nothing,” You stared, dumbfounded at his earnest tone. 

“The agony of lost sleep pales in comparison to the loss of your presence. There is nothing more that I desire than having you here next to me as I fall asleep and as I wake. Seeing your radiant face every morning—I feel like the luckiest male in the world. And I am greedy; for your touch, your time…” He shook his head, putting his forehead to yours, “I know I am asking much of you since—”

You surged forward and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. His lashes fluttered before he was pushing back with just as much fervour. You pressed your body tighter against his, feeling the contours of his body moulding perfectly to your own. You wanted him closer—had you been one body right now, it would not have been enough. He thought he was greedy? He had no concept of the depth of your selfish desires, only scraping the surface with this ardent kiss. 

You pulled back, breathless and entirely at his mercy, “You could ask for all the stars in the night sky and I would scorch my hands to deliver them to you,” He brushed his nose against your own, your swollen lips lightly caressing, “There is no limit to what I can give you Rhysand, if only you’ll let me.”

His violet eyes shone with disbelieving wonder as if he was undeserving of your affections. Rhys kissed you gently; this kiss held a promise that the others lacked. It was a promise of love, of reverence, of total, utter devotion. Your heart soared in your chest and for once, you let it; a caged bird finally tasting freedom. 

That same gentle presence filled your mind once again. 

I would be honoured, darling. 

The message was bundled in the gossamer enormity of his feelings for you. With your heart content, you whispered under the cover of silky night, 

“The honour will always be mine.”

Final Notes: Anything for my bbg Rhys <3 (Can you tell I recently rewatched Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time?) Hope you all liked it!

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x you #rhys x you #rhysand/reader #rhys/reader #rhysand #rhys #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acomaf #acowar #acosf #cherhys

[kaiijo]

love triangles in twisted wonderland (ii)

characters: ruggie, kalim, cater, malleus, sebek, jack notes: gn! reader, mix of jpn and eng translations

ruggie bucchi vs kalim al-asim

Ruggie didn’t know how he felt about Kalim. On one hand, he represented everything Ruggie really despised — spoiled, oblivious, lazy upper-crust people who wouldn’t know a struggle if it hit them in the face. On the other hand, Kalim never gave him a real reason to dislike him beyond his socioeconomic standing.

That is, until now.

You and Kalim, much to Ruggie’s dismay, had been paired up for some Astrology project. You two had been friendly before but now, you were attached at the hip. Or, more accurately, Kalim followed you around like a lost pup, which made Ruggie roll his eyes every time he saw it. You didn’t seem to mind though…

It was a rare moment nowadays to have you to himself, so Ruggie capitalized on the fact that you were alone at a cafeteria table and that Leona had been sound asleep in the gardens at that moment. Skipping the line and ignoring disgruntled cries, Ruggie got a hamburger and joined you at your table.

You perked up when you saw him, offering him a smile that made his stomach flip-flop. “Hey!”

“You mind if I sit here?”

“You know that I don’t. I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you!”

“Yeah.” Ruggie resisted the urge to point out that Kalim was the reason for it, instead opting to say, “I’ve been studying my ass off for Vargas’s exam.”

“Me too,” you sighed, resting your cheek on your palm. “Who would’ve thought the Headmage would make him do a written exam?”

Ruggie replied, “I heard something different — that Professor Trein basically said Vargas wouldn’t be able to pull together one since he’s got muscles for brains, or something like that.”

You snorted out a laugh, “Even if that isn’t true, it is in my head.”

Ruggie bit down on his lip to keep from grinning too widely. Your conversation carried on, blissfully uninterrupted, for approximately seven more minutes (not that Ruggie was counting or anything) until the exact person Ruggie didn’t want to say bounded over in his endless sunshine.

“Ooh! Is that the blush sauce pasta?” Kalim asked you, leaning over your shoulder. Ruggie huffed when your attention was pulled from him. “Do you think I’ll like it? Can I have a bite?”

Ruggie glared at Kalim as you twirled up a bunch of pasta, holding it out on your fork for Kalim to try. He wondered if Kalim was purposefully a messy eater or if that was just him, but some sauce splattered on his cheek. “Whoops,” Kalim said and you just shook your head fondly, wiping some off with a napkin.

Deliberate or not, Ruggie had one thought cross his mind: Two can play that game. With that, he braced himself and drove his knee upwards into the table. He let out a yelp of pain and your attention was immediately diverted. “Are you okay, Ruggie?” You shot up from your seat and came over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roll up your pant leg — is it bruising?”

As you started pulling the fabric up, Ruggie shot a sidelong glance at Kalim, who was watching intently with a pout, and his mouth pulled into a smug smirk.

Ruggie: 1, Kalim: 0.

cater diamond vs. malleus draconia

Since Riddle and the rest of the housewardens were away on some bonding retreat organized by Kalim, Cater decided to throw a party. Half of it was to be able to have fun without Riddle getting on to him about the rules, and the other half was because he wanted an excuse to spend time with you outside of class. You had been pretty busy recently so he was really looking forward to chilling with you.

Imagine his shock when he saw you walk into the dorm with Malleus Draconia at your side. Tall, dark, and regal, Malleus cut an intimidating figure as followed you across the room, headed for Cater. “Hey!” you chirped, grinning brightly. “Thanks for inviting us.” Cater’s heart skipped a beat as he soaked in the sight of your smile.

Malleus nodded along and said, “It was very generous of you.”

Part of Cater wanted to say that he invited you, not Malleus, but he definitely wasn’t going to say that. Plus, maybe he could get a Magicam pic with him at this party? “Of course!” Cater replied, “I’m super excited to have you here!” He turned to Malleus and said, “Not often that I see you out and about!”

You looped you arm through Malleus, something both he and Cater took note of, and said, “This is Malleus’s first big party so I was thinking you could show him around and introduce him with me?”

“I’d be surprised if people didn’t know him,” Cater said. “But I’ll definitely help.”

“Ah,” Malleus spoke up. “We wouldn’t want to impose on Cater. I would be okay if you just showed me around, Y/n.”

Cater’s smile faltered but he recovered, shaking his head. What was that about? “It’s no trouble at all, really.”

“It’s uncourteous of a host to leave his guests unattended and to curry favor on one,” Malleus pressed and Cater’s eyes narrowed. What was Malleus playing at?

It didn’t take long for Cater to put two and two together. The way Malleus didn’t reject your touch, the way he arrived with you, the way he insisted that only you showed him around, the tenderness with which he looked at you — Malleus liked you. Panic bubbled up in him. If that was the case, and you brought him with you to Cater’s party, did that mean you liked Malleus romantically?

At that exact moment, another thought dawned on Cater. “Shouldn’t you be at the housewarden retreat?” He nearly jumped when the aura around Malleus became a mix of gloom and irritation.

You definitely felt the shift too as you asked, “Cater, can I talk to you alone for a sec?” You grabbed his arm and hauled him off somewhere, calling sweetly over your shoulder to Malleus, “We won’t be gone long!”

You led Cater to an empty hallway and said, “Malleus wasn’t invited, so I decided to bring him here to, you know, cheer him up!”

Ah, now that made sense. His body relaxed a little. So this wasn’t a date. You just felt bad that Malleus wasn’t invited.

You continued, “I know you’re hosting and it’s a lot to ask, but could you help me just make sure he has a good time? Or at least isn’t sulking alone in the corner?”

Cater considered this for a second. He wasn’t too keen on babysitting Malleus for the night but if it meant spending time with you… “Sure, no problem!” When your face broke into a relieved smile, Cater knew that, somehow, this would be worth it.

sebek zigvolt vs. jack howl

“Master Lilia!” Sebek shouted, rushing into the Diasomnia dorm. Looking up from a game of chess with Silver, who had fallen asleep across from him, Lilia asked, “What can I do for you, Sebek?”

“I seek counsel!”

“Oh? On what matter?”

Sebek huffed, “I am trying to find a way to spend more time with Y/n but I am at a loss for how to do so. Every time I approach them, they are with someone and even when they are not, people pop up everywhere.”

Lilia nodded carefully. “I see.” Lilia thought for a moment before saying, “You have a test in Defense Magic coming up, no?”

“Master Lilia, with all due respect, this is not the time to—”

Lilia held up a hand. “Let me finish, Sebek. You share that class with Y/n, if I recall correctly. So why don’t you invite them to study with you? Just the two of you, no one else.”

Sebek’s face brightened. “Master, you prove yourself once again to be a brilliant strategist! I am indebted to you!”

With a bow, Sebek ran off again, finding you in the Mirror Chamber, leaving your dorm portal. “Human!”

“Oh, hey, Sebek!”

“I am requesting that we study together for the Defense Magic test!”

“Oh!” You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, that would be great actually! It’s kind of one of my worst subjects, so it would be a lot of help to study with someone else.”

“And, of course, I know what I’m doing, so you’re in good hands.”

“Alright, do you want to go to the library now?”

“Ah,” Sebek said, “I… got banned for the day for my volume in the library.” He couldn’t tell if his face was warming from the admission or from your amused stare.

You chuckled and said, “What about the courtyard then? We need to actually do spells anyways, so that’s a better option.”

Sebek nodded and you two walked to the courtyard. As you two started studying and practicing together, Sebek learned two things: one, you weren’t lying when you said Defense Magic wasn’t your strong suit. You managed to put a shield around a bench instead of yourself. The second thing was that, while he was okay at the subject, he was nowhere near good enough to really effectively help you study. And if that was the case, how could he help and defend the Young Master if he couldn’t help you, the person he liked, with such a simple thing as Defense Magic? And if he failed the Young Master—

“Jack!” The call of the name snapped Sebek from his downward spiral, and he followed your gaze to Jack, who was jogging across the courtyard. Sebek couldn’t help but grimace when the other boy made his way towards the two of you.

“Hey.”

You asked him, “Your best class is Defense Magic, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you have time to help me and Sebek with the shielding spell that’s on the upcoming exam?”

Sebek’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jack’s tail start to wag. Before he could answer you, Sebek interjected, “I’m sure we don’t want to bother Jack on his run.”

“I’m, uh, actually just finishing,” Jack said. “It’s okay, I can help.”

Without warning, you wrapped Jack in a hug, ignoring the sweat clinging to him. “Thank you so much, you’re the best!”

Sebek could only glower at your embrace and at the way Jack’s tail seemed to be rapidly picking up speed by the second. It seemed like he would have to take the loss, retreat for the day, and regroup with Master Lilia to craft a different plan.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al-asim x reader #cater diamond x reader #malleus draconia x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #jack howl x reader #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes

[wavesalwayscrash]

Hello!! If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your process for making backgrounds (if you have any process in particular!) They’re one of my favorite parts of the comic, and I’m interested to hear how you decide colors and stuff!

I sadly don't have a lot to say about this bc half the time i just raw dog the colors. I rely on complimentary colors (primarily orange/yellow and blue/purple, which is a fun secondary effect since Lain and Mariner are also yellow and blue) but if I want a very specific vibe I will often colorpick from pictures since I have a bit of trouble straying from my love of desaturated colors a lot of the time LOL.

These were some scene preps I did for a couple of later scenes! I tried to find some where I made a couple of moodboard pictures to get the vibe down but i guess i deleted all of those whoops.

as for drawing them, i don't have a lot of tips on the actually RENDERING part (i'm a very bad teacher) but here's a breakdown of how i generally draw the bgs in wac

bgs in comics are really an important aspect to me personally. the way I treat and approach bgs is to not treat them as just window dressing but instead treat them as an additional character. What is the bg conveying, whether it be a specific location, a vibe, or in terms of a den or a room or whatever, what can it tell us about the character it belongs to? I will admit I haven't done this as much as I would've liked to in WAC so far, but I hope that as the story progresses I can strive to put more life into the backgrounds. It's a little bit trickier since they are kitties living in a nature environment and not humans in houses, but I still hope to create that same sense of importance.

and I know backgrounds are often seen as "the worst part" of art, but I wholeheartedly believe you just need to figure out how YOU enjoy creating backgrounds. I love drawing them! I used to paint backgrounds for years before realizing I hated it so bad. Now I prefer this much blockier style and I love lining bgs. I highly recommend just sitting down, and doing some studies of photos of landscapes, of cities, or whatever else you want your bgs to be. appreciate the little details, figure out how to simplify them for yourself, think about the big picture of things, and it'll go a long way.

#ask #anonymous #alek talks

[flowerui]

♫ three little words (dedicate them to me), cyj

fluff, 4.8k words ୨୧ oh my god they were roommates :0 sorry to any academic weapons reading, im projecting a bit as an academic failure lol

wherein it only takes you about twenty-nine years to realize you're in love with your best friend... at least you got there!

꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is younger, unspecified age difference (but its implied that theyre very close in age), childhood friends to lovers, nonidol au, roommates, idiots in love, time skips, aging up, alcohol/drinking, a bit dialogue heavy, vomit is mentioned a few times, friend group ot4 ꒱

It’s hard to recall a time without Yeonjun; he appeared one day and stuck to you, almost as if he were a stubborn thorn in your side (said endearingly, of course).

It must’ve been when you were still in kindergarten—right, Yeonjun and his parents had moved in next door, and your moms both became friends and arranged a play date. Yeonjun had brought his PlayStation over and let you play it with him, so, obviously, to five-year-old you, that made the two of you best friends right away.

“Are you almost done?” Yeonjun bemoans from your bedroom floor, urging you to look up from your piles of textbooks and worksheets finally.

“No, I told you I needed to study and that you should go to your own house, you bum. Just ‘cause you don’t give a shit about your education doesn't mean I don’t.”

“You almost flunked last year. And you’re only studying because your mom saw you got a three out of a hundred on your algebra test,” Yeonjun deadpans, “how do you even score that bad?” Ugh, lucky, naturally academically gifted asshole. You roll your eyes and toss a pencil at his stupid face.

“Whatever,” you grumble, it’s not your fault you can’t be an academic weapon, and that school is whooping your ass instead with academics as a weapon. “I feel like my brain is about to start leaking out of my ears anyway, wanna go to yours?”

Yeonjun grins, sitting up from your floor with a start, finally regaining some of his earlier excitement before he had to wait nearly four hours (all of which were spent pestering you) while you attempted to study. “I ditched school yesterday to get a copy of Resident Evil 4 from GameStop.”

“What the hell—and you didn’t invite me?” you whine, “That’s cold, you better let me try it first.”

It’s hours later into the evening when you’re watching Yeonjun attempt to get through the wretched cabin section that you died approximately… thirteen times trying to get through, that he says, “You remember that guy, Taehyun, right? In my AP History class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, blinking your bleary eyes at Yeonjun’s TV screen from your very comfortable spot on his couch.

“He doesn’t usually talk a whole lot to me, but today, I couldn’t get him to shut up,” Yeonjun huffs a laugh as he maneuvers the character, Leon, up the stairs on screen, seemingly making it farther than you could. “He was complaining though, ‘cause he was partnered with this person who was into me. He couldn’t get any work done, they were just bugging him about me.”

You tear your focus from the TV to look at the side of Yeonjun’s face, you can see part of his furrowed brow and pursed lips. “Oh.”

It doesn’t surprise you that a lot of people seem to be interested in Yeonjun at school. In middle school, people started coming up to you, asking if you’d put in a good word for them with Yeonjun, because they ‘like-liked’ him, and you were his best friend. Then, it was at the end of eighth grade that you started telling those people to grow a pair and talk to him themselves.

You suppose you kind of understand. Yeonjun’s nice when he’s not being a little shit… and he’s not horrible to look at, one might even say he’s good-looking.

“Are you into them?” The question seems to roll off your tongue easily, but you’re not even sure why you asked, you don’t think you want to know. For some reason, thinking about it churns your stomach a bit.

“...No, I mean, they’re pretty, but,” Yeonjun sighs, tossing his controller to the side as he dies a second time. “they seem kinda… much. I dunno, Taehyun said they literally wouldn’t talk to him about anything besides me the entire class. It kinda weirded me out.”

“Hm, yeah.” You hum, a weird feeling of… relief washing over you. Yeonjun’s mom comes in to ask if you’re staying for dinner before you can think about it too hard.

Later that night, when you’re stuck staring blankly at your ceiling, you decide you were just relieved that Yeonjun wasn’t going to end up with some overly possessive weirdo. It’d suck to lose your best friend that way.

“Please do not throw up, because if you throw up, then I’m gonna throw up.”

“I’m not gonna throw up,” Yeonjun insists, but it doesn’t sound all too credible with the way he slurs his words, maybe you’ve also had too much to drink, but you swear he looks a little green. “I… am perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

“Uhuh.”

“Don’t ‘uhuh’ me,” Yeonjun grumbles with an attempted glare, you find that you can’t take him all too seriously, though; the flush on his cheeks, his inability to keep his eyes open for more than five seconds, and his perpetual pout make it all too difficult. “Oh, I—I think I’m gonna hurl.” He braces himself against the bar, eyes suddenly more awake.

That would be the reason you end up in a grimy bathroom on your twenty-first, making sure your best friend’s hair is out of the way as he empties the contents of his stomach into a toilet bowl.

“Why’d you drink so much, you know you’re a lightweight.” You ask when Yeonjun seems to be done, frowning as you wipe off his mouth with a paper towel.

“Am not,” he protests petulantly. “I was just—I just felt like it ‘cause I thought it’d make me feel better ‘nd I could stop thinking about other shit.”

“Did something happen?”

“...I stopped seeing that person I told you about.”

“Why? I thought it was going well?” ‘Well’ might be a bit of an overstatement. Like most of Yeonjun’s partners, you didn’t hear a whole lot about this new one, met them once for a brief moment, then didn’t hear of them again. It seems to be a common theme in Yeonjun’s relationships—his fleeting interest, you haven’t figured out if you should say anything about it.

“It was just, um. ‘M not over someone…. I didn’t feel right staying in a relationship knowing I’m still not over someone else.”

Oddly enough, that felt rather sobering to hear. You hum, stomach feeling a little off—you hope you aren’t going to throw up next… “You haven’t told me about that, wanna talk about it? It might feel better than drinking too much and throwing up in a disgusting bathroom. Don’t quote me on that, though.”

Yeonjun blinks slowly, then chuckles, “I’ll tell you about it some other time, I just really want to be in bed right now.”

Instead of getting an Uber or something, you trudge down the sidewalk with a clingier-than-usual Yeonjun, who barely manages to walk in a straight line. You internally celebrate when your apartment building comes into view; one of you seriously needs to get a car.

You have to convince Yeonjun to shower before you, almost like a petulant child. 

And apparently, wanting to be in bed means taking up most of your mattress and hogging your blankets for the night, because when you finish showering, you return to your room to find your bed occupied. You could just steal Yeonjun’s bed for the night… but you end up just crawling into bed beside him, listlessly trying to reclaim your covers.

He never ended up telling you about this mystery person he’s not over.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” You sigh.

“But why? I thought things between us were going great, I—”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see this relationship progressing any further.”

“But, I—I told my mom about you! You can’t leave me, I love you!”

“Ugh, you asshole,” you cry out as Yeonjun pretends to cry hysterically and shakes you by your shoulders, “You’re supposed to be taking this seriously and helping me!”

Yeonjun cackles as you shove him away, “I mean he could react like that, couldn’t he?” Then, he sighs and places his hands on your shoulders—not shaking you this time. “Okay, seriously, it’s going to be fine, you’ll be in a public space, so worst case scenario, he embarrasses himself.”

“You’re right… ugh, I’m gonna be late.”

“You’re the one who wanted to rehearse the conversation again.”

Before sending you off, Yeonjun smushes your face, cooing, “Okay, go dump your boyfriend, my duckling, I’ll be waiting here with takeout and beer.”

“You are a grown-ass man.” You deadpan before you’re finally off.

It’s been a good few months since you started seeing this new guy—his name’s Mark, you realized you liked him enough to make things more official after several good dates. But, you’ve already been considering breaking things off with him for a while now; you seem to have this recurring issue when it comes to relationships… You just can’t seem to envision a future that includes your partner, even when it’s going well you ultimately lose interest.

Mark seems like a good guy, too, which makes you feel worse, but it’d be even worse to just lead him on, right? That’s what you continue reminding yourself as you trudge into a nice café that will be tainted by the memory of you dumping a nice guy for the rest of your life. You’ll never be able to enjoy the sweet treats of ‘Arcadia’ ever again.

“Hey, there you are,” Mark smiles as you take the seat across from him.

“Yeah, uh, sorry, I had to help my roommate out.” A fib, even though your mother tells you honesty is the best policy. Well, she lied about Santa and the tooth fairy; besides, your fib sounds nicer than ‘I was rehearsing how to break up with you with my best friend’.

“No worries.”

“Um,” it’s better to just get it over with, you remind yourself, just rip the bandaid off, “so, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound too good,” Mark chuckles, then clears his throat and continues when you don’t laugh, “What’s up?”

With a deep breath, you let it spill out all at once, “I don’t think this is going to work out, I just don’t see us—this relationship going any further. I’m sorry and I hope you can understand.” Okay, that wasn’t too scary, if you’re ignoring your shaky, clammy palms against your knees.

Mark nods, then looks down at his lap, then back at you, “I guess I should’ve seen it coming, I mean, I’ve seen the way you and your roommate look at each other.”

“Uh… you what?”

“You don’t have to play dumb about it, it’s obvious the both of you are in love. Guess I just liked you so much I hoped I could change your mind.” Mark sighs, “I think I’m gonna… go, sorry.” He says, then leaves you to spiral.

‘Obvious the both of you are in love’? You and Yeonjun? That’s ridiculous, right?

Leaving what was once your favorite café in a daze, you’re suddenly glad that you’d decided to walk instead of drive; you barely register entering your apartment complex, and unlocking your door.

“Hey,” Yeonjun is on the couch, takeout and a pack of beer spread on the coffee table as promised, “how’d it go?”

“It went fine,” you say with a smile that doesn’t quite make its way to your eyes, “he took it as well as he could have.” It’s weird, that you don’t just word vomit out every small detail, like you tend to with Yeonjun. But somehow, something about divulging everything feels weirder, so in a rare twist of events, you keep quiet.

Seemingly taking the hint that that’s going to be all you say for the time being, Yeonjun changes the topic, “Go change so we can eat, the new episode of The Vampire Diaries is literally about to start in like two seconds.”

“What the hell! I didn’t think I was gone for that long!” You shriek and make a run for it to your room to change out of your outside clothes.

Yeonjun snorts when you return, plopping onto the couch while trying to catch your breath. “I lied, there’s still like half an hour.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hiss, and pummel him with the nearest throw pillow.

“I’m starting to think I’m gonna end up alone,” with a grunt, you tug your blanket up higher, “why’re we both so bad at relationships?”

“Rude,” Yeonjun flicks your forehead, and if you weren’t so cozy, full of food, and three cans of beer drunker, you might’ve sat up to take your revenge. But alas, moving even a mere inch feels like a herculean effort.

“You’re rude,” you stick your tongue out at him childishly. “Y’know I didn’t mean it like that, though, right?”

“I know.”

“Mm. Maybe…” You focus your bleary eyes on Yeonjun’s face above you. Even from this unfortunate angle, from where your head rests on his lap, he looks so… “If we’re not… If we’re still single by the time we’re thirty-four, I think we should just marry each other.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Okay, I think it’s bedtime, don’t you have work in the morning?”

If you hadn’t fallen asleep right then, you might’ve clapped back with a witty response, or you might’ve sat up, and looked at Yeonjun dead in the eyes and told him that you were serious.

“No, Mom, I am still not in a relationship,” you pause, then sigh, “Yes, I know I’m not getting any younger. And, no, I’m not gonna—wait, what?”

“You heard me, I asked when you’re going to give in and just marry Yeonjun. I like him, he’d be a nice son-in-law, he practically already is at this point!”

Only mothers would have the audacity. You have to pull your phone away from your ear to stare at the outgoing call screen in astonishment. “What… are you talking about?” You ask when you bring your phone back to your ear.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve been living together since you were what, nineteen? Neither of you dates anymore, you spend all your free time together…You may as well get hitched at this point, instead of denying your poor mother the opportunity of watching her child get married any longer.”

You perk up at the call of your name, seeing two of your coworkers rush over, “Hey—random question—how early do you think is too early to get engaged? Lia’s only been with her partner for like three months, and they’re already engaged! You’ve been with your boyfriend for years, right? And neither of you has proposed?”

“Uh? My… boyfriend?”

“Yeah? Your boyfriend, his name’s Yeonjun, right?”

“Oh, he’s not my… He’s just my best friend.” You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, the fact that all this time, it seemed like you and Yeonjun were dating, or having to tell two of your coworkers that you are actually painfully single. It doesn’t make it any better that the majority of your coworkers, while nice, are known for gossiping—all mostly harmless.

You expect your mother to make you feel bad about your relationship status (out of love), but not your coworkers.

“It’s weird, lately, I’ve realized that people think me and Yeonjun are together…? My mom even told me to just go and marry him, like?”

“Oh, you poor sweet summer child…”

“Have you still seriously not realized?” Taehyun pipes up beside Kai who regards you with a pitiful look. What’s up with everyone lately? You’re starting to feel like you’re the only one missing something.

“Realized what?”

“Oh, you’re hopeless.” Taehyun laments, looking as if he’s about ready to tear his hair out or reach across the dining table to knock some sense into you.

Ideally, you’d like to think you’re not at all oblivious. But, after many strange occurrences, you can’t help but consider: that you’ve never properly thought of Yeonjun that way—in a romantic sense. He’s always just been Yeonjun; the only person who you know for a fact you can trust with anything, and the only person who will stick with you despite all of your bullshit, like a stubborn thorn you can’t seem to be rid of (not that that’s an issue). He’s your everything, really.

When you imagine your future, you always see him fit in there somehow—but it occurs to you that as someone who’s never had a complete interest in marriage, or any romantic relationships for a long time for that matter, you could imagine walking down the aisle with Yeonjun, and more. Not only that, but you like imagining it.

Oh.

How dense can one be to fail to realize they’ve been in love with their best friend all this time? After nearly three decades of friendship, it’s seriously taken you this long to get to this conclusion? All those failed relationships you tried so hard to make work, it was all for nothing, because you couldn’t realize what you felt for what you already had! So much time wasted…

“Are you feeling okay?” Yeonjun apparates beside you, a palm carefully tracing circles over your upper back.

You feel bad for how you jolt away from him, seeing the surprise and mild hurt pass over his features in a split second. If you didn’t know Yeonjun like the back of your hand, you might’ve missed it. “...Sorry, I dunno—I’ve been kind of out of it lately, I think I just need to relax.”

“You haven’t been overworking yourself again, have you?”

“No…”

Yeonjun gives you a look as though he doesn’t quite believe you, but drops it. This time, you don’t jump away like frightened prey when he touches you—wraps around your side. “Let’s watch something tonight? I’ve been hearing about this new Kdrama called ‘My Demon’.”

“That sounds straight out of Wattpad… I’ll order the food.”

“Happy birthday,” Yeonjun sings as he saunters into your bedroom at… way too early in the morning. But all’s forgiven with the realization he comes bearing gifts—food. “What’s that, thirty-four punches I’m gonna have to give you, now? Fuck, you’re old,” he says as he sets down a delectable-looking plate of your favorite breakfast on your nightstand.

“Shut up, you’re older than me.” You narrow your eyes, sitting up to reach for your birthday breakfast.

“And if you punch me thirty-four times, you will not live to see another day, Choi.”

Getting older has meant that your birthdays have become a lot less eventful, but you haven’t quite minded it. They’re spent with your favorite person, anyway, so no complaints on your end.

Yet, somehow, you end up on a beach on the night of your birthday, sitting on a beach towel Yeonjun had neatly spread out and admiring the night sky. You’d had a simple plan to laze around at home all day, eat something good for dinner, drink a little more than you should, and then sleep like the dead. However, Yeonjun had other plans when he’d announced the night before that he was taking you on a day trip the next morning. ‘It’s only a six-hour drive’, he’d said, because he’s insane.

You suppose you had a little more to your original plan… you guess you also intended to profess your newly realized love for your best friend, and potentially ruin about twenty-nine years of friendship if things happened to go wayward. Well, you still intend on getting that over with.

“Happy birthday,” Yeonjun says once more, as he returns from the car with an unopened bottle of wine and two wine glasses. Huh, you guess that’s why he took so long to grab something to drink from the ‘cooler’, actually... do either of you even own a cooler? “Better appreciate this wine, it was pricey.”

“I distinctly recall telling you not to spend much on me this year,” you sigh, but you’re staring down the bottle, “and you already arranged this impromptu trip.”

“Well, I wanted to, it’s not every day you turn thirty-four.” Yeonjun doesn’t add anything else, as he hands you the bottle of wine; you decide not to call out how he can’t meet your eyes properly.

Cabernet Sauvignon 1999, the bottle reads. You don’t know much about wine—you’re not that old yet—just that it usually tastes good. “Is it good? I don’t think I’ve tried Cabernet Sauvignon, have I?”

“You haven’t, I think you’ll like it. It would’ve gone well with dinner.”

You hum, taking a corkscrew handed to you, as Yeonjun takes a seat beside you.

A couple of glasses later, you blurt, “Thanks. For this—the trip, dinner. And the wine. I like it a lot.” It’s not quite what you’d meant to say, in such a stilted manner. You guess you need a little more liquid courage, as you pour yourself another glass.

“I can tell, that’s like your third glass.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, as Yeonjun snorts into his glass. Cheeks warming, you start internally motivating yourself—if being alive for thirty-four years has taught you anything, it’s that everything’s worth a shot. You miss a hundred of the shots you don’t take… or whatever the saying is. “Do you remember that time I said we should just marry each other if we’re still single by thirty-four?”

After a pause, Yeonjun raises a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m surprised you remember that, considering you passed out right after… Are you saying we should get married, then?” Something passes over his features before he turns to you, and laughs something that isn’t exactly humorous, “I think that might be enough wine for you.”

“I’ve only had two glasses.”

“Two-and-a-half,” you correct after glancing down at your half-full glass. “I’m not drunk, maybe a teensy bit tipsy, but—fuck, that’s not the point.”

“What is the point you’re trying to make then? Yeonjun laughs, it almost looks like that familiar glint has returned to his eyes. You’d appreciate it if you weren’t about to implode.

“I, uh,” you clear your throat. Yeonjun continues to regard you with amusement; you vaguely wonder if he’ll still be amused once you manage to get the words—your confession out, or if you’ll go and ruin everything because of some stupid feelings. “Fuck, this is kinda difficult.”

“Okay, um,” maintaining eye contact is a test of your mental strength, which is why you avert your gaze even though you’ve turned to face Yeonjun, as you utter your next sentence, “So, it’s taken me an embarrassingly long time to realize that I’ve, uh, sort of, kind of been in love with you for probably forever. No, I—”

“I’m in love with you,” you rephrase more confidently, yet you end up shrinking in on yourself when the only response you receive is Yeonjun blinking blankly at you. “So, um, you could say something… right about now. Like, you hate me and are kicking me out? Well, ideally, you could say that you feel the same and—”

“Breathe,” Yeonjun reaches over to squeeze your clammy hand. Taking a breath as instructed, you realize you have not been breathing properly since you began speaking. “I was just—you’re being serious? You aren’t just drunk, and you aren’t fucking with me?”

“Two-and-a-half glasses, I’m tipsy at worst,” you reiterate, “and I’m not fucking with you either.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun breathes, which does nothing to assuage the anxiety that feels like it might have colored your face pallid, as it incessantly knocks against your ribcage.

“Oh? C’mon man, I just confessed my love to you, give me a little more than ‘Oh’, I’m nervous as shit right now.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Yeonjun laughs, the asshole laughs. “We really are best friends, huh? I spent all week trying to figure out how to make your birthday special, and confess my love to you at the end of the night. And here you are, beating me to it.”

“You… oh.”

“C’mon man, give me a little more than ‘Oh’, I just told you your love is reciprocated,” Yeonjun laughs as he repeats your previous words, teasing, “I’m nervous as shit, too.”

So, you down the rest of your glass before setting it aside and scooting too close for comfort, and ask, “Can I kiss you?” Because if thirty-four years of life has taught you anything, it’s to not waste any more time.

“Uh… yes.” Yeonjun’s widened eyes dart from both of your eyes, to your lips, and back.

And, so, you close the distance to kiss him. 

Maybe it’s not magical, maybe you don’t feel any supposed sparks or fireworks. But it feels right, like it’s meant to be as you cup Yeonjun’s cheek and shift to curl your hand around his nape. It feels like caressing the petals of a burgundy rose.

(“Have you just always known you loved me? Even when I threw up on you the first time we got drunk?” You ask, a few hours, and a couple more glasses of wine later.

“Ew, but yes, I knew I loved you even then.”

“...Huh. Would you still love me if a witch cursed me and I turned into a worm tomorrow?”

Yeonjun snorts, “A worm?” then he hums in thought, “I would buy the biggest terrarium, and the nicest dirt I can find, and take care of you. I’d find the witch and make her turn you back into a lovely human, too.”

“Good answer,” you smile, leaning over to kiss Yeonjun again, he tastes a little like remnants of Cabernet Sauvignon, deep and red, urging you to kiss him a little deeper. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips when you part.)

Upon thinking about it, not much changes between you and Yeonjun; apart from the kissing, consistently sharing a bed, sober I love you’s, and the other ‘unnecessary PDA’, as Taehyun so kindly put it, while Soobin had fixed the two of you with a disgusted look (you know that deep down somewhere, he’s happy for you both), and Beomgyu shot a thumbs up before going back to hogging the cookies Soobin baked—Kai was more focused on trying to steal some cookies, which he managed.

Your mother had practically wept out of joy when you told her the news, ‘I’m going to see my baby get married! I thought the day would never come!’ she’d cried out, and rushed to tell anyone that would listen to her. Overdramatic, and a little hurtful, by the way… You didn’t even say anything about marriage, either!

“Hm?” You reluctantly blink your eyes open at the call of your name, to see Yeonjun looking at you with a suspicious grin on his face.

“I love you.”

“...What did you do? I love you too, though, even if I have to become an accomplice.”

“I didn’t do anything bad, I just love you.”

“Mm, you loser. I love you more.”

“Hm, are you sure about that?” Yeonjun hums, your eyes follow him as he sits up and reaches for something from his nightstand, “‘Cause I think I love you more? So much that I’m asking if you’d do me the honor of marrying me.” He says so casually, contrasting how he carefully opens a small, velvety box. It gives a quiet creak as it pops open, revealing a simple silver band. A ring. An engagement ring.

After blinking the fatigue out of your eyes, and confirming that you’re not seeing or hearing things, you sit up with a start, “You—

“You dick, why would you propose to me while I’m half-asleep?!”

“Well, if you said no, I could’ve just written it off as you being tired and mishearing me… I’ll get you a nicer wedding ring, too, if you say yes, that is. Well, I already have one—”

Yeonjun grunts as you throw yourself onto him, “You’re such an idiot, I love you. Yes, I’ll marry you, there’s no question about it.”

You can’t recall the moment you started loving Yeonjun; maybe it was the day you met and he let you play his PlayStation. Maybe it was in middle school when more people started to see him, or maybe it was in high school…

Maybe you can’t pinpoint the exact moment, maybe you’ve just always loved Yeonjun. It’d be hard not to love him; he’s as beautiful as a white rose—inside and out—one that you’d pluck from the dirt with your bare hands, thorns and all, just to keep to yourself, even if for a little while. Maybe that’s selfish, but you think that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

You part from Yeonjun as your friends and family cheering fills your ears. Feeling like words can’t do your feelings in that moment justice, you kiss him once more, in hopes to convey them a little better.

“I know. I love you,” he says, because he knows you best.

Grinning so happily that your cheeks begin to ache, you properly part from Yeonjun this time, and walk hand-in-hand down the aisle.

#꒰ 📞 ꒱ new message! #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x reader #kpop x reader #txt x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #yeonjun x gn reader #choi yeonjun x you #kpop x you #txt x you #fluff #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #kpop fluff #kpop x gender neutral reader #x gn reader

[purerehua]

kiss cam

- noun: kiss cam; plural noun: kiss cams

a live video feed in a sports arena showing images of selected couples in the audience in the expectation that they will kiss.

pairing ⇆ zb1 kim taerae x reader

genre ⇆ fluff ; romance ; unexpected feelings ; frnds 2 lvrs ; open ending

wc ⇆ 1.1k

cw ⇆ poor representation of baseball lol, also 90% writing and 10% dialogue. sorry y'all i'm working on it. let me know if i missed any warnings!

the cheers of the crowd rung loud in your ears as everyone yelled and jumped for the third time this afternoon. you were currently attending a baseball game with your bestfriend kim taerae and you could tell he was having the time of his life. you on the other hand? not so much.

it’s not that it was boring or anything, you had your own basic understanding of baseball but you couldn’t say you had an interest in it. taerae however insisted it would be great and you would have fun, plus you guys hadn’t spent time together in a while since you both had responsibility to your college studies.

so here you were, zoning out in the crowd while your loser of a friend whooped and yelled, smiling brightly at whatever impressive thing the player just did. he settled down again, calming down and watching the game with bright and focused eyes. but as much as it was entertaining to watch him go crazy over this, you needed a break as soon as possible.

taerae’s head turned to you as you tapped his shoulder before your mouth moved to speak.

“i’ll go to the bathroom real quick, okay?”

with a nod and thumbs up from taerae, you made your way past the people in your row and found the bathroom. you took your time, using the toilet and fixing yourself in the mirror a bit. you even pulled out some oil blotting sheets and your tinted lip balm because why not? and as you finished up and were satisfied with your appearance, you made your way back to your seat beside taerae. as you settled back beside him, you realized that there was nothing going on in the field at the moment, and your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

taerae somehow sensing your confusion started to explain.

“they’re taking a break, don't worry it’ll start back up in a few minutes.”

you let out a hum of understanding at this, and instead your eyes drifted to the big screen in the meantime. it played a variety of advertisements before the TV showed a real time camera that was pointing towards the audience. the big text in bold spelling ‘KISS CAM’ dawned on you as the camera continued to single out two random people after another. you laughed a bit, since the first few reactions were people either refusing or flat out yelling ‘THEY’RE MY SIBLING’ to the camera.

the camera finally landed on a real couple and they shared a sweet kiss to which everyone cheered at. you instinctively glanced at taerae wondering what he’d do if the camera were to land on the both of you.

just then, as your eyes drifted back to the big screen, you could see the frame focus on taerae and the girl on the other side of him, immediately you looked over at taerae beside you who’s expression went from relaxed to bewildered in a snap. he brought his hands up to communicate his reluctance, but the girl beside him perked up in a casual manner and over the noise of the crowd you were sure you heard her say that she didn’t mind.

he was floundering, his body was faced away from you and his words failed him as he tried to figure what to do.

he looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes basically screaming for help. your own eyes widened as you shrugged your shoulders, silently saying you had no idea what to do. but taerae looked so desperate, and you felt so bad from the way his fist tightly held on the edge of his shirt, the way his other hand kept coming up to adjust his glasses nervously.

so you did the only thing you could think of and the millisecond before your lips touched, you realized how bad of an idea this was.

you had spun him around, pulling him in by his shirt before planting your lips on his. he surprisingly didn’t scream bloody murder in shock, instead steadying himself by holding onto your waist and relaxing into the kiss.

it was short and sweet, you almost expected him to kiss like this. It’s not like you’ve ever wondered what kind of kisser taerae was (you totally have) but somehow the kiss felt exactly like him, and that made it quite enjoyable even if it didn’t last that long.

once you both parted, your eyes found the TV screen immediately and obviously the camera had now panned over to show you and him in place of him and that girl. people were whooping and cheering you on, even the girl that was originally supposed to do the kiss cam with taerae.

your gaze came back to focus on your best friend, who looked at you with a soft smile and admiration in his eyes. you suddenly got shy and realized that you were still holding on to his shirt so you promptly let go, smoothing it down for him and clearing your throat.

he in turn moved his hands from your waist, opting to clasp them behind his back instead. he seemed to be waiting for you to say something, as a few seconds passed of him looking at you and you pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

seemingly realizing you weren't going to say anything, he picked up his bucket of popcorn and offered it to you with a soft smile.

"y/n, do you want some popcorn?"

you could feel the box being pushed against your fingers lightly and you finally lift your head to face taerae for the first time since the kiss. and as soon as you did it, you internally panicked.

' woah why is he looking he looking at me like that? '

you gulped and suddenly the urge to kiss him again was so strong you could vomit. looking at him again you saw a whole new perspective and were suddenly very aware of the way his hair fell, the dimple on his cheek, and the smile lines around his mouth now suddenly drove you crazy.

you politely shook your head, wringing your hands behind your back and willing yourself to focus on the game you had absolutely no interest in.

later at home, you lay on your bed in the comfort of your room silently reflecting on the days events. you think about how awkward and quiet it was when taerae drove you home.

you think about how attractive he looked driving.

suddenly your phone vibrated in your hand, and you brought it to your eye level to see a new message from the very man you were just gushing over in your head...

a/n: this work has been locked up for like two weeks and i finally decided to finish it up and post it. anyway, thanks for the love on my bf!hao texts. i might make a part two for this taerae and y/n, should i? lmk.

#zb1 #zerobaseone #kim taerae #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone taerae #kim taerae x reader #taerae x reader #zb1 oneshots #zb1 fanfiction #zerobaseone fanfics #fluff #friends to lovers

[perseephoneee]

Ice-scating with Diego Hargreeves please 🥺

ice skating (diego hargreeves x gn!reader) ficmas 2023

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 3 of ficmas!

a/n: sorry this one is so short, but i hope it still brings all the holiday fluff vibes that are necessary.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Diego glared at the ice skates in his hand, looking at the rink currently populated by families, teenagers, and even the geriatric population. He didn’t want to ice skate. He didn’t want to be here at all. Except that you wanted to ice skate because “the-world-is-ending-and-if-we’re-all-going-to- die-I’d-like-to-do-this-with-my-boyfriend-once.” He had never been that good at turning you down. He just also wasn’t that good at ice skating. You, on the other hand, were a freaking angel. Diego couldn’t peel his eyes away as he watched you glide across the ice, smiling. You even managed to turn backward and let the skates take you. He hadn’t seen you laugh in a long time. You ended up sliding right over to him, hands stopping your motion against the wall as you stared at Diego sitting on the bench. 

“Are you going to ice skate or what?” You raised a brow, looking at your boyfriend in amusement. 

“I’m working on it.”

“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” you chuckle, poking him in the shoulder as he swats you away. 

“I’m not,” he snaps, letting out a huff of air. “Just…never done it before. Don’t want to embarrass myself,” Diego mumbled. You leaned over and took his hand in yours, your mitten-clad hand enveloped in his own. 

“You won’t embarrass yourself; you have me,” you smiled before gesturing back to the ice. “Plus, Klaus is embarrassing himself all on his own.”

True to your word, Klaus was prancing across the ice like no one's business. It's not that he couldn't skate (he was excellent). He was acting like he had taken shrooms before getting on the ice. Knowing Klaus, he likely had. His arms were wiggling around as he balanced on one leg and spoke out loud the whims and wiles of the ice. You were glad he was having fun, even though Diego was annoyed that Klaus had invited himself (again) to another one of your couple activities. 

“Please? We can get hot cocoa after,” You pouted, and with an eye roll, Diego finally relented. He tied on the skates and wobbled to a standing position, hobbling over to the entrance. You held out your hands, reorganizing your stance so you could support him if he started to fall. Diego slipped a little as he grabbed the wall and your hand, a panicked sound leaving him. “You gotta bend your knees, don’t freeze up.” He let out a hiss, which made you laugh, but he hesitantly moved one foot in front of the other, letting the ice carry him around the perimeter. You skated right next to him, reaching out occasionally to keep him studying. Eventually, he started to relax, and you smiled as he got the hang of it. Diego laughed excitedly as he let go of the side wall. He even whooped as he made his first lap without any help. By the second time around, you skated and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with him. 

“Thanks for indulging me,” you said, looking up at Diego. He could be a stubborn ass at the worst of times, but he always made you feel supported in ways you hadn’t experienced before in your life. Diego brought your enjoined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. 

“Ice skating is pretty cool,” Diego admitted. “Manly, since it has blades.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you chuckled, waving as Klaus circled you. To cause mass chaos, which you were starting to think was Klaus’ mission in life, he reached out for Diego’s open hand and dragged the two of you behind him. This didn’t work out with the intended effect and instead led to all of you sprawling across the ice like a hockey accident. 

“Klaus!” Diego growled, reaching to beat up his brother. Klaus rolled away, sending an apology as he skated away. Diego crawled over you like a starfish on the ice as you lay. “Are you alright?” You smirked instead of answering, grabbing the front of Diego’s jacket and kissing him. 

“I’m perfect,” you laughed. Diego kissed you again before helping you up, letting you lean against him as you shuffled over to the side of the rink. “Should we get hot cocoa now?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Diego huffed, helping you off the rink and holding your hand to the hot cocoa stand the entire time.

#12 days of ficmas #ficmas 2023 #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fics #the umbrella academy fics

[riise-my-anngel]

Idk i just think theres something to say the brothers all realizing what time period you are trapped in and the way they fall apart.

Lucifer and Belphie understand the others fear. Both of them came close to, or succeeded in killing you and they know that time period they WILL try again and thats terrifying. They've done a lot to personally grow from their actions towards you.

And they both have nights where they sit in Lucifers study, drinks in their hand, discussing if they could live with themselves if you are killed by their past selves. And also what happens if you come back, but sre scared or lost trust in their present selves.

Its the most honest the two of of them have been in a long time. Their unique out of the brothers. Their violence towards you was unforgivable but yet you not only forgave them but now love them. Lucifer and Belphie are powerless to protect you from their past selves and they hate themselves for being such violent demons that they know hurting you is probable.

Satan, well, no one understands. He barely does. His room is a wreck. He hasn't been like this in centuries. He has no idea what his past self is capable of towards you all he remembers is his hate for his brothers and no amount of magic would spare you from his wrath tearing your body into peices.

Everyone at RAD is terrified of Satan, everyone who isn't the brothers, angels, or the royals refuse to bring your name up. He's already had to pay for damaging quite a few walls and doors because lesser demons would comment to him about him "finally losing his dumb little pet".

It isn't lost on Satan that the very fact that you're trapped in a time period where his wrath is dangerous and unpredictable, and that has led his present self to cope by being dangerous and unpredictable. He just isn't himself without you anymore.

Levi is lost in a fantasy world. Its easier to pretend you're just in your room if he hides away to his anime and his video games. He can just pretend everything is fine but the second he remembers your not there? Well the HoL isn't the only place that has had issues with Lotan being summoned. A lesser demon made a comment about the "human finally moving on from the lord of losers" and whoops guess that demon and quite a few others drowned to death. Over and over again until Diavolo had to step in and make Levi stop.

Beel can't figure out if he's ravenous or if he never wants to eat again. He fluctuates, some days he destroys whatever kitchen he's in, be it HoL, RAD cafeteria or just whatever restaurant he happens to be nearby. Other days he spends hours in the kitchen making your favourite devildom food, trying to recreate the human world food you two made together, but once its done he feels sick to his stomach that you can't just be there cooking with him and he can't see that shy smile you hide behind your hand when you have something you love. So he just tosses them onto the dining table for the brothers and goes to Fangol practice instead. At least he is more allowed to be aggressive there.

This is worse then losing Lilith, because he might never know what happened to you. Protecting people was his JOB and if he couldn't protect you, then its worse then having to choose betwern siblings lives. It means Beel failed before even trying, in his eyes.

Asmo doesn't recognize himself. He didn't realize how much time his vanity was actually spent with you in his chair and him draped over you behind him constantly doting on you. He buys things he thinks you'd look stunning in or things with your favorite scent and as soon as he gets home? Well not much gets kept. He throws the bottles at his tub until its a scattered mess of liquids that needs to be cleaned and clothes he bought you get torn up. Why should he keep them if you never come home, they would just be a reminder of what he can never see again. He doesn't recognize his reflection without you. You love him for who he is not what he looks like, but all alone he can never see the good you saw in him and he hates that all is left in his reflection is a bitter, miserable demon who lost the only person who loves him for his inner self.

No one even tries to sleep with him, he didn't fool around once you two shared your feelings but now hes offended at even being propositioned. These demons, succubus and incubus, they all just see his face and body and want a peice. You looked him in the eye and fell in love without any charm or magic. Who do these people think they are assuming they could ever live up to you? Many nights he goes out, he ends up physically attacking people who dare get too touchy with him.

Mammon tried. He really did. He wanted to keep his brothers together, but it just isn't working. No one knows if you're alive anymore and Solomon has stopped bothering trying to send word through time to update on your status. Once Solomon stopped? The brothers couldn't stand listening to Mammon being calm and rational anymore. No one knew if you were ever coming back and Mammon didn't know how to make them believe otherwise when he didn't know himself.

He's not in the house a lot anymore. He spent too much time with you in that house he can't stand the sight of it. Ironically he's never been richer. He doesn't see the joy in schemes or ploys without you to scold yet indulge him, you're not around to spend it on, so he just gambles. Wins more, has nothing to do with so he gambles.

In a winning streak, he'd either pull you right to his side or just haul you onto his lap to show off his pretty little good luck charm. Now he's winning all on his own and he doesn't give a shit about any of the people around vying for his attention or time. They ain't you, but he'll take their money cus what else is he going to do. You're not there and no one has the right to even think they could replace you.

They all know one thing though. If you never come back, Solomon better never come back either because they'll take out every single bit of pain on him for as long as the sorcerer could survive it.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

[running-with-kn1ves]

Walla....kn1ves....genius big brain yandere writer....i just (re)found your Yves work (im sure you saw me freak out in the tags lmao) if you have the time/energy/inspo pls i beg you for a speck, a crumb, a droplette, ANYTHING of my baby Yves x fem!reader. I'm not sure how specific is too specific but I have a truckload of daydreams and prompts for this man dc im down BAD BAD for the way you write him. I'm not sure if this is too specific of a request but can it be yves holding himself back constantly because he wants to *romance* the reader but its so obvious he's itching for more until one day he finally snaps and takes her (specifically him giving her his virginity and whoops maybe going crazy when he finds out she isnt one)? I'm just obsessed with his characterization and want to see him in a ton of situations and feeling/reacting to different things. The stern dom undertones his whole vibe has disguised by a friendly foreign guide 🥵 The drabble of him was sooooo good and such a tease of his personality, it's so enticing hahaha. If that prompt is no good or doesn't inspire you then anything else is fine and ofc if you have no inspiration for Yves at all then that's a-okay too!!! Thank you sooooo much for thinking up that beautiful man and sharing him with us!!! Hope you enjoy your holidays💞💞💞

A/N: Ugh I'm so sorry I took so long in answering 😭😭 I was gonna write like a whole piece but my time has been cut dramatically, so please accept this poor little piece!! I was honestly so overjoyed at seeing your tags, it makes me so happy to see people's reactions to my stuff ┗( T﹏T )┛I wish I could have more time to write for this because I love the concept, I'm a huge fan of the "mysterious foreign guide who's just a little too friendly" kind of trope. Thank you so much for your support anon and I hope you enjoy this!! OG piece here for any of you nerds!

TW: Kidnapping, implied dubcon/noncon, manipulation

It wasn’t hard to notice Yve’s shift in behavior. Well, this shift out of many. When you first met him, he gave off a kind, well-meaning but nervous vibe. He did his best to show you around, to make you comfortable and converse with you in english to the best of his knowledge. That kind persona shifted into something more… desperate; obsessive, once he brought you back to his apartment. He was still kind, still well-meaning and observant to your needs. He apologized profusely when you got upset from how he kept you from leaving, promising that you weren’t missing anything important in class and that he could show you real culture instead! What could you learn from a textbook that would be better than seeing the country itself?

But time and time again, Yves made excuses to keep you inside, to make you stay by his side whether through photoshoots or studying, with him as your “teacher”. You had to learn the basics before taking such a “big” step out into his country, right? Unfortunately for you, Yve’s only taught information on the most trivial subjects. From words like “textbook” to “glass”, you were able to make meaningless sentences that wouldn’t serve you well in conversing with native speakers outside of Yve’s little apartment. Sure, it might help you occasionally, but it got you no where closer to understanding Yve’s rushed mumbling and incoherent rambling. 

With your sudden move to his apartment and his new change in conduct, Yves had slowly become less generous. He didn’t make as much of an effort to talk in english anymore, and made far less points to explain himself. You couldn’t tell what caused this new change-- a change that you were soon starting to accept as Yves showing his true colors. The man was still attentive to your needs, still caring and kind-- but the posessiveness that had slipped out almost entirely seemed to be taking hold. And while you’d think that a growing obsession would make it more beneficial to you-- it in fact, made your difficulty increase tenfold. Yves began to direct you on what you should wear, when you should eat, what you should do for the day.

 Not only that, but his attentiveness to…more intimate needs were far more prevalent as well. Whether it was bathing, or the need that pulsed between your legs, Yve’s was there to try and take care of it. You pushed him away multiple times, awkwardly trying to tell him that you were fine-- but it never seemed to stick. He always just looked at you with a tilted, confused expression, muttering in his native tongue as if he didn’t understand. So when the foreign guide began to sleep next to you instead of the cot on the floor, and began to press his morning erection agaist your backside sleepily, you knew your protests weren’t having any effect.

You would have walked right out of that teensy apartment the moment you felt he didn’t listen-- if you weren’t so afraid. If you weren’t afraid of the loaded handgun in his locked nightstand drawer, or how easily he could destroy your life at your new university-- which he mentioned offhand multiple times in a casual manner-- you would have walked out. The power he held against you, a foreign student with failing grades and no money, was too much for you to ignore. So, you decided to bide you time. It was only a matter of weeks until he got bored with you, you decided. But his new actions didn’t seem to prove that. 

In fact, the lustful, mischievous look he gave you that evening was the complete opposite. His scrawny frame jumped atop yours, hooking his hands behind your neck and leaning in to try and kiss you. He had planned an unusually fancy dinner, lighting candles you had never seen in his apartment before and bringing a bottle of wine with some italian takeout. You tried to question him about the mound of pillows and blankets on his balcony, the sudden romantic lighting, but the male only gave you a broad statement on how it was a “celebration” of sorts.

Yves’ sudden prowling mood after dinner wasn’t a complete shock-- considering you felt his eyes on you the entire evening-- but it still caught you a tad off guard. You tried to reject him, to push him away after each kiss, but it was done with such little effort and such great fear that you stayed silent once he muttered in an annoyed tone in his own language. Yves took your silence as a surrender, friskily lowering his hand under your shirt to caress your abdomen. He rambled against your flesh in half-english as he kissed you up and down, not afraid to let out vocal little noises of pleasure, or grunts of satisfaction ones he heard your breath hitch or a hum of desire come from your lips. 

But it wasn’t until he uttered a sentence with a familiar word, did you actually reply to him. You recognized the term from messing around with your friends, when you jokingly learned dirty words from your textbooks and the internet to use when you finally entered the country. You never expected to actually utilize them unless you went to a club or bar and happened to meet someone. One of those words, was ‘virgin.’ A more tame term compared to the bunch you had memorized, but one that you and your friends had idiotically decided to research. Though, it seemed your stupid endeavors had paid off. 

As Yves repeated himself, you began to understand the sentence a bit more. The man was seeming to imply… you were a virgin? Something about you both no longer virgin-ing? Maybe he was saying that he was going to ‘virgin’ you? You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, only mustering up the courage to poorly explain your sexual status to him, first in english and then in a broken version of his language. You tried to repeat yourself, thinking you might have said your statement wrong-- but Yve’s shocked expression and sudden lack of kisses seemed to prove you wrong. 

“You have…. Sex?” Yve put a hand to his mouth, eyes begging you to respond.

“Uh….yes?” You said with an awkward expression; you hoped he was asking what you thought.

Yve’s let out a choked gasp, looking as if you had crushed his heart in your palm. 

He looked down, voice cracking as he mumbled something incoherent, and likely not understandable to you in the first place. 

“I….I i’m sorry?” You tried to apologize, seeing how shaken Yves had become at finding out you weren’t as inexperienced as he. Despite his eagerness, you could tell he was new to trying to initiate something you had already grown long accustomed to, new to being so intimate. It was actually in part of his eagerness that you realized he wasn’t of the same sexual history. He was full of anticipation and desire, throwing caution and logic to the wind to fulfill what he had read in books and seen in films.

 Yves seemed to treasure the act of losing ones virginity far more than you had-- but you had only noticed it now. The candlelit dinner, the mood-fitting music-- your first experience was nowhere near as romantic. 

Yves seemed shaken, his low, almost sob-filled words growing heavier. He grew more aggressive, seeming to realize something now that he had processed this unexpected news. He had assumed you were just as much of an amateur as him-- that he’d be the one to “deflower” you in an act of passionate romance-- a bubble fantasy that had just been popped. But the male realized-- if he couldn’t have his desired outcome, he’d have to make due with what he had. Which was to make sure you’d fall to your knees, experiencing the best night of ‘passion’ that would make you never want to crawl to another man again. 

He was going to claim you-- to make it so those nights you spent with others never counted. 

You could only understand a fifth of what Yves breathily moaned into your mouth, once again jumping your bones though this time much more roughly. Before you could say anything further you had felt his quick hands unbutton your pants, his own thrown to the floor. He didn’t listen as you begged him to atleast let you move to the bed, where you would no longer be visible to prying eyes on the balcony. But he didn’t care-- Yves had already taken off his shirt, intent on ripping yours away too. He didn’t care anymore if this wasn’t going to be special for the reason he expected-- he was going to make sure you would be left with a night you wouldn’t forget.

#kn1ves rants #knives rants #writing #yandere #tw yandere #YANDERE photographer #x reader #reader insert #self insert #yandere x reader #male yandere #fanfiction #yandere male #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yanderecore #soft yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere boy #yancore #yandere thoughts #x reader fanfiction

[thecapricunt1616]

Sunflower 🌻

Syd x Carmy one-shot

♡ Summary: A/U where after graduating from the CIA at the top of her class, Syd goes on a food tour in NYC & ends up hooking up with the most talented CDC, at the best restaurant in the world.

♡ W/C: 3,434

♡ Posted Date: 04/12/2024

♡ A/N: This is pure filth I tried adding some plot- I hope it turned out the way I saw it in my head. As always requests are open - for SydCarmy, CarmyxReader as usual! I hope you enjoy :)

♡ Warnings for BTC: Smutsmutsmut nsfw 18+ - Oral (m receiving) , Barely edited bc we die like men.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Sydney Adamu had just graduated top of her class at the Culinary Institute of America. She’d been hunkering down with her dad, for a long four years, she was desperate to get out of there. She already had a plan all set up. 

She’d take the last bit of money her grandfather had given her for college, and make a catering business of her very own. It would be dedicated to her parents, (of course) Syd’s hopeless romanticism was thanks to their perfect, beautiful love story of course. She’d known since sophomore year of culinary school - Sheridan Road would be her baby. 

She’d settled on this idea - with any possible odd’s and ends money she’d made during her CIA training - she’d go out for as long as it would last her. She’d learn, study, and observe, then- create her catering business, with the confidence she’d gotten a taste of the very goal she had, a star. Well - three would be absolutely fucking insanity to her- but one? One she felt like if she had it? Her father would believe she was in a real line of work, instead of just happy she was perusing her own happiness. 

It was the perfect plan in her mind. She’d already set aside the amount of money, with extra safety net, for all of the licensures, and documentation she’d need- as well as her commercial kitchen rental she’d make the food out of. Then - with the extra 5k she had left over, she booked a full food tour of the most prestigious, luxurious restaurants in NYC. 

She’d planned the tour 6 months before she graduated, since the 3 restaurants wouldn’t even accept a reservation if it wasn’t made out any later then that, and when she walked the stage, 3 days later she was on the train into the city. 

She’d be staying at a decent hotel for 12 days. Each day, she’d be having one large meal including an app, two main courses, 2 cocktails, and 1 dessert from a Michelin starred restaurant. She would be staying 4 days for 1 star, 4 for 2 stars, and 4 for 3 stars. 

The schedule was as followed; 

Monday - Hirohisa *

Tuesday - Dirt Candy *

Wednesday - The Musket Room *

Thursday - The Red Paper Clip *

Friday - Atera **

Saturday - Jungsik **

Monday - Saga **

Tuesday - Daniel **

Wednesday - Per Se ***

Thursday - Le Bernadin ***

Friday - Masa ***

Saturday - 11 Madison Park ***

When she’d got off at Penn station- she was nearly vibrating with excitement - she quickly brushed passed people grabbing their obnoxious suitcases in the overhead compartments. 

“Sorry! ‘Scuse me! Fuck- shit sorry- exscuse me!!!- whoops! Sorry- scuse me- aah! Ugh- I Didn’t mean to- oop- oh- Jesus!! Excuse me!!” She rambled, frustration building in her chest. Getting off The L wasn’t this hard- why did Amtrak feel worse?!

She took a deep breath, her nose scrunching. 

Mm. So instead of cow shit - smog, I feel at home already. 

She’d thought to herself as she briskly walks with the crowd towards the exit she meant to take onto fifth. 

She slipped her wired headphones into her ears, texting her father 

‘made it!! Love you daddy!!’

Before opening her Spotify, hitting one of her comfort albums, Broken Clocks, as she walked briskly outside - the crisp city air hitting her like a ton of bricks. 

She leaned against the brick of the McDonald’s next door, avoiding the streams of people going down and up the sidewalk, taking a deep breath. She’d not been to New York before, she’d grown up in Chicago- been to the city more times then she can count, but the suburbs were her home. Being in the city- and let alone- a city like Manhattan versus Chicago- she was looking around, trying to gather her wits - and quickly.  She clicked the maps application on her iPhone 7, tugging her umbrella out of the water bottle pocket of her backpack and tucking it under her arm as she typed the address to her hotel and clicking for the walking directions.

It honestly kind of pissed her off that each day’s food was better than the last. She’d wanted to not give a shit about stars and just focus on giving people an experience to remember - but it was cut & dry that now that she’d tasted this kind of food - she was going to do whatever she could to become as talented as the chefs that made it. 

But - she hadn’t even tried the best yet. 

The best, the best, THE best. 

She honestly couldn’t believe she was going to be trying the food from Eleven Madison Park - but she couldn’t help but be so nervous. Every other Michelin starred restaurant she’d been to - the dress code was Formal attire. But this one? THE best restaurant in the fucking world? Oh- they just say on their website ‘many of our guests dress up for the occasion, but we do not have a dress code’  

Her entire trip, She’d been cycling through 2 very different floor length gowns. One of which she wore to her graduation, and the other she’d found at Windsor on sale but it did the job. She didn’t wear luxury attire often, okay? She was too busy being Culinary school for Christ sakes! And tonight she couldn’t for the life of her choose which one she’d wear. 

This being because she was attending a main dining room tasting, which was ten courses. Easy, luxury dining courses were stupidly small. But- she was also trying their bar tasting menu which was an extra four courses. Sitting at a bar in that stupid fluffy dress for two hours would not be comfortable. But- again- best. restaurant. in. the. WORLD!!! 

She knew for a fact that she would be mad at herself if she got there and everyone around was dressed to the nines, but - for comfortability sake she went with the simple silken red gown. 

The front of house service was literally perfect. She was glad she’d brought a new notebook, because she’d never have had enough space to take all the notes she was taking tonight in the one she’d been using the majority of the trip. Their staff was very casually mannered, and they made it very easy to order. Everything was very calm and comfortable, the furniture felt very luxurious in the sense of comfortability. 

After she just had the best meal of her entire life, she knew she had to speak with the person who made it. Her mind was blown for lack of a better word. The food was fucking incredible. She had a rule to keep herself able to taste as much as possible: she was only allowed one bite of each dish, but here- she couldn’t just limit herself to one. Each dish she was taking 2 even 3 bites- but when she got to the sunflower dish? It was brilliant. She finished every bite, she couldn’t not. It would be sinful to waste it. And the only thing on her mind was that she had to talk to the chef who’d made it.

Her waiter comes back to her table, giving her back her card and receipt. 

“Thank you for dining with us this evening, have a wonderful night” he told her 

“Thank you- Um- may I speak with the chef who made the sunflower plate please? I’d like to pay my compliments in person if possible.” She asked hopefully. 

“Of course, that would be Chef Carmen- give me just a moment I’ll go get him for you” he nodded and headed back to the kitchen. She looked over her notes, remembering the questions she’d wanted to ask about the dish. 

Carmen, she wondered if he’d been named after the saint. His talent was surely straight from the hands of the Mother of Christ. 

Shes interrupted from writing in her notebook by a husky, silvery voice 

“Excuse me- I was told you’d like to speak to me, I’m Chef Carmen, I made your sunflower dish this evening.” 

“Hey- I’m Sydney - that dish was- ” she stood up to face him- and when she realized who was in front of her, her heart began to race. Of course, she’d thought, of course - only a JBA contestant could come up with a dish so ingenious.

 “Oh- um…Hi.. Hello- you’re like -” she blinked a few times, in utter shock. “You’re Carmen Berzatto“ She swallowed thickly. 

Sydney was obsessed with this industry- she stalked the JBA website every year to see who would be nominated, dreaming that some day she’d be on that list. Being even nominated would allow her to die happily feeling as if she’d won a fucking Nobel Prize. That was how much she respected those damn awards. 

“I am” he said and cleared his throat nervously. 

“Well- firstly congratulations on your nomination- you like- if it was up to me you’d win because that sunflower dish was-” they’re interrupted by one of the food runners coming over 

“Chef Carmen- Chef Daemon requests you in back of house now.” she said urgently, the girl looked like she was on the brink of tears as she continued taking the tray of food over to the table it was meant for. 

“So sorry, i’d love to hear what you have to say but uh…” he trailed off. 

“Yeah- yeah- sorry, sorry I wont keep you-” she said and he shook his head a bit 

“No- no- um… I mean -” he wouldnt usually be so bold, but his ass was going to literally be kicked if he didnt get back there in the next 5 seconds. “I’m gonna go out for a smoke at 11:15. If you wanted to keep talkin’ ill be there” he said before heading back to the kitchen.

Sydney was nearly shaking - there were so so many things she wanted to ask him. She also realized he was much - infinitely hotter in person - how that was even possible? She remained unsure. She had reapplied her lipgloss and her perfume, nervously pacing back and forth along the sidewalk. 

She hears the back door open and she looked over, out emerging the greek god incarnate she somehow got so lucky as to run in to tonight. “Hey!” she said with her famous warm smile. 

He didnt return it, actually- he looked pissed. She swallowed thickly, rubbing her lips together nervously “Hey - sorry again I uh- fuckin’ boss” he muttered, fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket. 

“No- don’t apologize please, I totally get it. I mean, you're the CDC at literally the best restaurant in the world. I wouldn’t have bugged you if I knew, I mean- my table, like- I’m not a critic..I guess I should have clarified cause of the notebook thing but they usually are more…low key? I thought? Do they usually just come and whip out a notebook? That would make it easier I think… But nonetheless I’m so so grateful to have been able to eat a meal that-“ she rambled on anxiously but he stops her.

“You talk when y’nervous” he said with a small smirk, lighting the cigarette between his lips and inhaling, leaning against the brick.

“Uh-” she stuttered, her face feeling hot suddenly. “Sorry- I’ve uh… i’ve been told” she chuckled a bit, taking a few steps towards him and leaning on the brick only 2 feet or so between them.

“It’s charming, y’smoke?” he offered her the pack with a red top, she looked down at it.

“I don’t- not- not yet anyways” she joked, crossing a slim arm over her waist. He couldn't help but realize how the action made her breasts more prominent. 

“You’re a chef?” he asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Yes! Yes- well.. Just graduated, not working anywhere yet- I’m going home soon to try and start my own catering thing…” she explained and he nodded.

“Where’d y’graduate from?” he asked, exhaling the smoke away from her direction.

“CIA - 2 weeks ago, Valedictorian actually, y’not the only chef around here with street cred” she joked and he chuckled.

“Really? Word. Thats sick, good job. Y’said y’re headed home? Where’s that?” he asked, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Chicago! Can’t wait to get back, Hudson life is… not for me- I forgot how convenient public transportation was” she said. 

He raised his brows in surprise, “Chicago huh? Thats my old home base.” he said 

“I know! You’re actually… really famous did you know that? Like- they talk all about you during lectures, you’re the new golden child of the culinary world” she teased and he rolled his eyes playfully.

They’d been inching closer and closer without realizing throughout the whole conversation, she was now so close that she could see the barely there scar on his cheek, her focus locked on it. His gaze was locked on her plump lips and he was imagining how they’d feel around his cock.

“I do unfortunately - you’ll learn soon enough that praise means being a target in this industry.” He said 

She bit her lip, meeting his striking blue eyes once again. “I really meant to tell you earlier was that sunflower dish was the best meal i’ve ever had. And i’m not just…sucking your dick because you’re you - I knew that before I knew you made it” she laughed a bit.

He followed suit, “Well if you want to- i’m not gonna say no.” he said and her eyes widened a bit, feeling her core pooling with heat at the idea. Of course he was half joking. It was so sudden and out there he would have never expected her to indulge him. 

“I mean- here? What if your boss comes out?” she asked, a bit quieter as if she was trying to assure they’d not be caught.

He nodded towards the row of 12-wheeler trucks parked 50 or so feet away. “Haven’t moved in 6 weeks” he shrugged casually  “Lead the way Chef”  she motioned with her hand, a frisky smirk on her lips.

“Holy fuuuck” Carmy groaned, pushing his cock deeper into her tight hot mouth. “Y’like takin cock like this mmm? Y’like bein’ my little fuckin slut?” he muttered, thumbing away the warm tear that was gathering in the corner of her right eye. “So fuckin’ good f’me-” he growled, moaning at the wet gurgling noises emitting from her.

She swallowed around him, looking up at him with tear-filled dark lustful brown eyes, widening her jaw further and tonguing over the pulsing vein on the underside of his length, gently squeezing his thighs to urge him further. 

“Y’want me t’fuck y’throat? Mmm? Dirty fuckin girl” he gathered her braids into his fist, wrapping them around his palm and roughly tugging her off. 

She whined hotly, the sensation of his rough hand sending waves of pleasure through her being. “Please” she said wantingly, tonguing over his slit before wrapping her lips around the tip of his head in a sensual kiss.

He took his thumb, pulling her jaw open wide and thrusting into her mouth with a satisfied grunt. “Y’know-shhhit y’know what? I think this is the only way t’shut y’ass up? Mmm?” he inhales sharply as she pushed his foreskin back and spit on his exposed sensitive tip.

“Jesus fuckin-” he sharply inhaled through his teeth as she gently grazed her teeth over the sensitive head, his abs clenching in pleasure and hips quivering from the overstimulation “fuckin-h-aaaa-ahhh-mm-shhhhit-jesus fuckin christ” he whimpered, his head falling back against the metal with a sharp bang as she took the flesh into her mouth, flicking her tongue sharply over the weeping tip before smoothly sucking over the buzzing stimulation. He knew if she kept up the act he’d be filling her mouth with his seed within seconds.

“S-sooo fuckin filthy - y’want my cum in y’throat? Mmm? Little fuckin whore- h-holy-oh god- i-” he nearly suffocated her as he buried his cock further down her throat. He reached down, his fingers rubbing along his thick length buried in her warm tight throat. 

“F-fuuuuuck- ah- oh shhh- mmm- thats it- thaaaaaat’s it- good fuckin girl” he grumbled, roughly and sloppily guiding her head in such a way that the noises being made if it weren’t her he would think theyre overdramatic and disgusting. He also didn’t know where the hell all of this talking was coming from. 

Normally in the bedroom, he was quiet. Very quiet. The only way the women he was with knew he’d enjoyed himself was if he even came at all. Sex usually wasn’t about his own pleasure since in the presence of another he found it so hard to get off - it was more about giving him imagery that would help him later in regards to finishing. 

“You are so fuckin good at that huh? You take my cock so well such a good fuckin girl” his jaw goes slack as she put her hands on his hips to steady him and slowly sinks her mouth all the way down to the hilt, her eyes shut in focus. 

She gently rubbed her thumbs over his hips, swallowing around his length in a way that made whimpers fall past his lips he didn’t know he could make himself. “Holy shit y’fuckin- oh- ohhh fuck” he grunts as she takes one of her hands and begins massaging his balls and looking directly into his eyes, pulling off his length to breathe and gently pushing the foreskin back, kissing over the sensitive flesh with her plump lips. 

“You can fuck my face- but deepthroating after a meal like that is pretty hard, id love if I can keep it down” she said, even with spit running down her chin, teary eyes, and swollen lips - she still looked adorable to him. 

“Sorry- sorry” he muttered, loosening his grip on her hair “keep doin’ that fuck yesss” he breathed out as she swirled her tongue around his head. He thrust in and out of her mouth, gradually moving faster but being careful as to not slam into the back of her throat. 

She stroked the bottom half of his length with her other hand, eyes closing and doing her best to swallow around him all the excess saliva that was dripping down her throat. She hollowed out her cheeks, looking up at him as she slowly and carefully sunk down once again, keeping her eyes locked on his. 

“Mmm-shhhit-I’m fuckin-“ he groaned, his knees nearly going weak and head falling back with a thud. Blood roared in his ears, his hands shook slightly from the tension rolling off him in waves. 

She nearly choked at the amount rolling down her throat. She pulled off slightly, swallowing - more like gulping, assuring to hollow her cheeks and swirl her tongue as she pulled off with a pop as to not waste any of the sweet salty mess. 

“You- you- you are fuckin crazy” he breathed, looking down at her. 

She wiped off her mouth, chin, and neck with a tissue she’d kept in her purse before saying “I’d say you’re crazy, “ she got off her knees, picking up the chefs coat he had thrown down for her to kneel on, to which she insided it out before she did so it wouldn’t show any dirt. “If I had that coat? It would never touch the floor” she shook it off carefully. 

He quickly fixed his pants “he’s a friend it doesn’t matter I can always get a new one” he countered, putting the coat back on and buttoning it. 

Her eyes widened “friends?! How the hell did you run into him?!” She asked. 

“You- y’re into fashion ‘n shit?” He asked and she nodded enthusiastically 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Thom Browne is insane all his shit Is absolute fire. I wish I could afford one of his jackets like- it’s totally a dream wishlist kinda thing” she took some gum out of her purse. 

“When do you uh…go back?” He asked. 

“Tomorrow. Headed to Chicago on Wednesday” she said and he nods. 

“Oh- yeah okay..It was uh…it was nice t’meet you” he said awkwardly “I should probably um..” he trailed off, clearing his throat nervously.

“Totally- yeah great to um…great to meet you too chef.” She nodded 

“Could I um…” he rubs the back of his neck anxiously “could I maybe get y’r…” he trails off, cheeks pink with embarrassment. 

“My number?” She asked, grabbing her phone out of her purse. 

He nodded, cheeks bright red with embarrassment “yeah sorry-“ he mumbled

“Yeah- if I can get yours” she teased, clicking open the blank contact screen

#carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #the bear fic #the bear #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #sydney x carmy #syd x carmy #carmen x sydney #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #carmy #carmen berzatto smut #sydcarmy smut #sydcarmy fanfic #syd adamu #sydcarmy fanfiction #sydcarmy fic

[12freddofrogs]

Look, I didn't actually hate the new Wish movie. I didn't love it, either, but I didn't hate it. Some of the songs were catchy, the more subtle easter eggs were fun to recognise, there was some fun ideas in the magic system.

The thing was, the story had bones in there to be really good, and they missed it. I'm not even necessarily talking about the original concept, about the Star being humanoid (although that would have helped a lot - not even necessarily as Asha's love interest, just that it would have made the Star an actual character instead of a prop). I think what annoyed me more was King Magnifico being set up as well intentioned, and then that was completely forgotten.

He was sympathetic. His goal was to keep his kingdom from burning down. He was traumatised and trying not to let history repeat. And then the movie even went out of its way to inform us that the book - the book he only opened out of desperation - was corrupting, that it was a direct result of a curse that Magnifico was getting crueller, that this curse was permanent, and just... forget about it. Whoops, villain is defeated, toss him in the dungeon without a further thought.

Instead, you know what I think would have done wonders for making the plot more cohesive and fitting together the themes, plus actually tying together that whole "A wish is the most powerful magic!" lore, and even giving what should have been a protagonist but was kinda just a torch a real, actual scene?

Have Star grant Magnifico's first, truest wish.

Not directly, click his fingers fix it. That's against the theme of working for your wish. But have Star pull out of the pile of wishes the one that Magnifico made twenty, thirty years ago when he first pulled up on this little island and put down the first bricks. The wish that no magician, no evil would ever harm this kingdom.

And then, while Magnifico is frozen, staring at his own wish for something more, he looks at the green flames around him and actually, honestly sees them.

They said that curse was unbreakable, but they also said that a wish is the most powerful magic that exists, and this is a star that came down solely to grant it. The wish glows brighter, the green stretches for them, but Star is there and the wish wins. Curse breaks. The world glows again, and there's just a king, collapsed and human again, and Asha is the only one willing to sit next to him as he stares at his kingdom.

And then, just to properly tie the movie back to the beginning, Asha gets the job as the apprentice that she'd been interviewing for. She can keep the wand, sure, fine, but what she needs is to actually study. Her new wish is to be able to help people make their wishes come true, and neither the stars nor the king are going to click their fingers and make that happen for her. Magic takes years to learn, but it turns out Magnifico is actually a pretty good teacher.

If you wanted to finish the movie on her 18th birthday that got mentioned several times as upcoming but never became relevant, that would be thematic. Maybe she makes the wish in private, glowing, pulls it out of her chest to see herself as a fairy godmother, before she puts the wish back into her chest to go back and work on making it real.

#in this au i am imagining that the queen is an actual villain who's been gently encouraging her husband to darker paths for the power #she wants the curse but doesnt want to be cursed so this works for her wonderfully #that way you can still get a villain to defeat more notably than just a book #but it wasnt wholly necessary and i just really wanted to complain about tragic villains when the writers forget its a tragedy #wish 2023 #wish #disney's wish #disney #fanfic #wish 2023 fanfic #i guess? #didnt think id ever use that tab tbqh #king magnifico #magnifico #asha

[transfemmesam]

supernatural fic rec list

(mostly for me to keep all my favorites together. all on ao3) (be nice, i’ve never made one of these and the format is new to me)

Try asking by @applecrumbledore

Wincest, 7k words, rated T. Outside POV.

“Jerry says he saw them going at it in the back of that car of theirs outside Atlanta last year, I swear to God.” “Listen, man, I don’t like them either, but that’s a low blow. Jerry’s a fucking pervert.”

The sound of dead leaves by clavicular and unhappy_ghost

John/Sam + wincest, 6k words, rated M. Sam POV.

John looks at Sam in a way no father should. Sam aches when Dean smiles. The shadows that loom over Sam Winchester are not just those of the monsters lurking in the night.

Echoes of Hell by The_Nightbreaker

Gen, 35k words, rated M. Sam POV.

It wasn't real. He wasn't in Hell anymore. That's what he tried to tell himself over and over. But two centuries of torture don't disappear in a day. Sam struggles with visions of Hell, fighting to maintain his grip on reality. Dean hates that he can't protect his brother from what isn't real—but curse him if he doesn't try. When the boys stumble on a case with ties to the Devil himself, will they be able to pull themselves together in time to stop the sacrifices? Or will the echoes of Hell finally overtake them? Aka, season 7, but the plot is Hell trauma, not leviathans.

Evening Shadows by withthekeyisking

Gen, 2k words, rated T. Outside POV.

Sam is hallucinating the monster who tortured him for nearly two centuries, Dean feels like he's failing his brother, and a diner waitress bears witness.

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red

Wincest, 9k words, rated E. Dean POV.

“So you’re just gonna, what – torture us for an hour while your guys hightail it to Buffalo? That’s your master plan here?”  “Oh I can do a lot in an hour or two, Sammy. Like having your surrogate daddy here carve Dean a new face. Like backsliding you off your pretty bandwagon. Like…Seeing how far big brother will go for his sweet baby Sam.”

Prophecy of an Abomination by ashitanoyuki

Gen, 88k words, rated M. Sam POV.

Sam wants to be normal. Sometimes, it's harder than he'd like to keep faith in God. Or: a story of religious!Sam plus powers!Sam culminating in horrifying Sam whump (with eventual comfort to go with the hurt). A character study of the first two seasons that sharply diverges in season two.

he’ll follow me down every street, no matter what my crime by according2thelore

Wincest + Meg/Dean, 17k words, rated M. Dean POV.

“What do you want, Sam?” Sam stands up, so Dean is forced to look up into his face. Sam turns them slowly, so the small of Dean’s back bumps into the polished wood of the counter. “I want…” Sam says, eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips and Dean knows when something is too good to be true, knows that this can’t possibly be real, knows— “Christo.” Dean rasps, just before Sam’s lips land on his, eyes open wide. Sam’s eyes flash black. “Whoops,” Sam says casually. A thread of tension stretches between them, almost interminable, and then they both move at once. The demon in Sam’s body slams Dean back, and Dean crashes against the bar. ~~~ A rework of S2E14 "Born Under a Bad Sign" with Meg!Sam and Dean instead of Jo for WincestWednesday on tumblr's July Event, prompt "Favorite Episode" (with a cameo from the second prompt "Blood")

You’d Have Loved Her (But You Won’t) by punkrock101

Gen, 5k words, rated G. Sam POV. (compiler’s note: this is my personal favorite fic of all time)

Sam never got to tell him. Sam never got to tell anybody.

Flowers in the Impala by Evendar

Wincest, 2k words, rated M. Outside POV.

Kate wants them to be a family - really, she does - but there's something wrong with John's boys.

—-—-—

that’s long enough for now, i think. feel free to reblog with your favorite fics as well

#supernatural #spn #wincest #samjohn #fic recs #spn fic #txt #holy scriptures

[deepspacedukat]

Misfit Toys - Part 3

Alright! Here's the conclusion! I hope you all enjoyed reading this little fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖 There are a few unintended side things that happen in this chapter, but I hope y'all will enjoy it anyway!! By that I mean whoops I accidentally created yet another OC.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Tokath (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut adjacent, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies romance, Human/Romulan romance, implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Romulan sex, mutual pining, they're idiots who think it's unrequited, it's VERY requited, flirting, some almost kisses, getting lokblocked, literally everyone can tell they're in love except them, they are the last people to find out about each other's feelings.

~*~

I hadn't needed Tokath's crutch in nearly a month, but it had earned a place of honor. Resting lovingly on a bookshelf in my bedroom, it served as a reminder of the progress I'd made...and of the fact that I now had somewhere that I belonged.

After all this time, it still felt strange to know that I had a home this amazing. The reaction to the news that I'd decided to stay instead of boarding the transport and leaving the Carraya system had been so joyful on the part of my new friends that I'd been moved to tears. None of them had been irritated that I'd chosen to remain with them.

Ta'lana even clapped a hand on my shoulder and grinned as she offered me a permanent position helping her concoct her salves. I accepted, of course. How could I not? Her companionship was so easy and natural that I'd have been a fool to refuse. Not to mention I owed her and Tokath my life for healing me after the crash.

Speaking of Tokath, as soon as he gave me permission to stay, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my chest. There was no longer a lingering feeling of guilt and selfishness resonating through me every time I stole a glance at him. Oh sure, I was still on the verge of berating myself for behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush, but I'd realized that since I was now a permanent resident in this settlement, I had every right to live however I chose. If I wanted to bask in the warmth of the Romulan Commander's smiles, then that was exactly what I'd do.

I was afforded that opportunity quite often. More often than not, we managed to sneak in a little time together in the mornings before the day truly got started. Even if it was just enough time for us to share a cup of tea and breakfast, Tokath and I always seemed to gravitate toward each other.

There were still plenty of mornings where we woke up in each other's arms on the sofa in his study, and those were admittedly my favorites. He was nearly always awake before I was, but he never moved to get up first. The lingering caresses left on my skin before the break of dawn made me wish that I was a more courageous person. More than once I came incredibly close to blurting out my feelings for him in those slow, gentle morning hours. It was a wonder that he hadn't yet noticed.

There was definitely a slight shift in our relationship when I begged him to allow me to stay, though I couldn't define what it was. Our interactions were just as they were before but the burden on his shoulders seemed...lighter, somehow, despite the addition of a new member of the community. Maybe he just liked having a friend with a new perspective to discuss...

If only he knew how much that new friend wanted to kiss him when the morning sunlight poured in through the study window and glittered in his eyes. Resting atop his sturdy chest, half-dazed and half-witted from having just woken up, the temptation was almost overwhelming most mornings. Instead, I would simply nuzzle farther into his chest or the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent until I was certain I could trust myself to look into his eyes again.

One of those mornings, the rain cascaded down, splattering against the windows and creating a soothing rhythm against the roof. I was loathe to get up, and Tokath seemed even less inclined to do so, until a knock sounded at the door.

With matching pair of begrudging sounds, the two of us sat up, and Tokath called for whoever it was to come in. Belatedly, I realized how bedraggled we must look. M'Ven took a single step inside, saw our mussed hair and state of dress, and blushed as he delivered his message.

"My apologies for the intrusion, sir, but I thought you might like to know that your daughter's shuttle has just entered sensor range. She should be here within the hour." Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking, M'Ven tossed me a friendly wink and left us to our own devices.

A joyful smile spread across the Commander's lips as he turned to me.

"You and Ba'el would get along so well! Would you like to come with me to greet her?" He looked so hopeful. How could I possibly refuse? Without a single thought, I reached up and brushed a few errant strands of hair behind his ear. When his hand covered mine against the side of his face, I realized how close we still were to each other.

Oh, the urge to kiss him was back stronger than ever!

"I wouldn't want to intrude on your time with her–"

"Hush, e'lev. You could never intrude," he said, "and if you're not uncomfortable with the notion, I'd love for you to be there."

Tokath's hand kept mine firmly in place while I took a deep breath.

"I'd be honored." If I thought his smiles had been beautiful before, I'd clearly never seen him this utterly filled with joy. Tugging me into a crushing hug, the Commander let out a relieved breath. Did he really think I'd refuse?

After having bathed and changed into clean clothes, we arrived at a clearing in the woods that Tokath called the 'landing strip' just in time to see his daughter's shuttle touch down. The rain had stopped just a few minutes before, giving way to a thick, murky fog. Almost as soon as the shuttle's engines cut off, he was striding toward the door of the small craft.

This must've been something of a routine for them, because the young woman practically threw herself into his arms, sending the pair into a fit of giggles. I hung back just a bit to give them space. Despite Tokath's earlier protests, I was determined not to intrude on their reunion.

"You should've told me you were coming! I'd have prepared a welcome party," he said, and at her protests, I turned my attention to Ba'el's ship, trying to give them some semblance of privacy. The vessel seemed to be Klingon in design, so I assumed she'd acquired it or borrowed it while on the homeworld that she'd gone to explore - Tokath told me all about the incident with a Starfleet officer and the minor revolt that led to some of the younger members of the colony striking out on their own. More power to them. It took a lot to leave the only place you'd ever known in search of entirely new places.

"Oh, hi!" Ba'el's cheerful voice sounded, and I turned my head to meet her smile with one of my own. I gave a little wave as the pair walked over.

"Ah, this is our newest resident," Tokath said introducing me. Rather than a more subdued greeting as I'd expected, Ba'el glanced between her father and myself, then wrapped me in a tight hug. I'd expected apprehension or maybe something a bit more confrontational, but, really, that was silly. She was Tokath's daughter, and he was one of the kindest people I'd ever met. It only stood to reason that his daughter would be at least partially similar in temperament.

"This place is so secluded! How in the stars did you end up here?" She asked as she pulled back and grasped my shoulders.

"Well, it's a long story–"

"One that even I have not yet managed to coax from her," Tokath cut in as he wrapped an arm around my waist and smiled playfully down at me.

"–but it's not a terribly interesting one. I boarded the wrong transport at the wrong time, that's all," I finished with a shrug, ducking my head to escape the warmth of his gaze before I combusted completely.

"Oh, the 'wrong time' was it? And here I thought you liked it here, e'lev." He was teasing me, I knew he was, but I still didn't want him to have the wrong impression.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I love living here! This place is the best thing that ever happened to me. I-I just–" Tokath's gentle, rolling laughter engulfed me just as his arms did, cutting off my rambling protests.

"Do you really think I don't know how you feel about that by now?" When I simply buried my face in his tunic and made a noncommittal sound, he gave me a nice, big squeeze. "Come on. Let's all get back to the compound before we freeze in this dreary weather."

--

Dinner that night was a joyful affair. Stepped up from the usual fare into something more celebratory, the whole colony was ecstatic to welcome back one of their own, even if it was only for a short time. Though she was only planning on staying for a couple of weeks, Ba'el's presence brought a sparkle into the hall. Her lightheartedness and genuine wonder about the things she'd seen in her travels brought smiles to everyone's faces - including a rather pointed attentiveness from Centurion M'Ven that I noticed.

Eventually, the meal drew to a close, but before Tokath could protest, his daughter looped her arm around mine and stole me away into the quiet evening air. Stopping at the same little pond where her father had first told me of the transport, Ba'el tugged me down next to her on the bench to sit with her. We were both silent for a few moments, watching the water ripple in the bond as a slight breeze caressed its surface. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that it almost slipped away amidst the trees' rustling leaves.

"When I was little, my parents used to bring me here every day. I'd run around and play, and they'd sit here together on this bench. On the days when I didn't need others for the silly games I played, they kept their own company. Sometimes they talked, sometimes my father would read her a book, and sometimes, if the atmosphere was right, they'd end up roaring with laughter over some joke they'd shared," she murmured. A nostalgic little smile stretched her lips, and a far away sort of look settled itself firmly onto her face. "When I got older, they trusted me to come here alone, and I took to exploring the gardens. I knew every rock and tree - they were my friends, as silly as that sounds. I miss this place more than any other when I'm off exploring the galaxy."

I listened carefully, and a wave of gratitude washed through me for the glimpse she was giving me into both her past and her father's. It must've taken a lot for her to share something so personal with me.

"The last time I was home, M'Ven saw me come here. He followed me one night...gave me a bouquet of his own hybrid flowers - he tends them religiously, so you couldn't have missed them," she said, and with a conspiratorial lean in, she continued. "He's asked me to be his mate."

I wasn't exactly surprised. The glowing smiles he gave her at dinner and his near constant blushing sort of gave it away.

"Does your father know?"

"Not yet, no. I'm going to tell him in a couple of days, though, I promise. M'Ven was the first born here. I think his mother was in the early stages of pregnancy before the battle and just didn't know it yet," Ba'el explained. "He's not officially a Centurion, of course. He wears the uniform, and he was trained by the officers here, but the Romulan government doesn't know anything about him."

She paused for a moment, allowing the weight of her words wash over me.

"We agreed that this year when I came home, if I still felt the same for him, he'd come with me on my next trip. It'll be a little more risky traveling together, but we'll manage. After that, when we come home next year, we're going to stay and build a life together," she said letting out a giggle that was so infectious that I couldn't help but join her. "So what about you? I assume that you and Papa are going to stop dancing around each other sometime this decade...?"

"I-I don't know what you mean." Stammering certainly didn't help my case, but the laugh that left her throat told me that she wouldn't have believed me even if I'd sounded perfectly confident. "Ba'el, I...I do love your father, but I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable–"

"What are you talking about? I haven't seen him this happy in years! Last year I was so worried about him that I stayed for a month instead of my usual couple of weeks. He practically had to kick me out." She gripped my forearms gently and looked into my eyes. "I'm happy for you. When one of you finally works up the courage to talk about your feelings, I'll be the first person to celebrate. You're good for him, and, from what I can see, he's good for you."

Relief, palpable and potent, rushed through me, and I hugged Ba'el to hide the tears that had gathered in my eyes. We sat by the pond, talking and joking until the unmistakable sound of footsteps met our ears. We both turned in time to see M'Ven rounding one of the larger trees with a bouquet in hand. He caught sight of us and froze - he'd clearly been coming to meet Ba'el, but my presence startled him, the poor lad.

Ba'el beckoned him over, and the bob of his Adam's apple in his throat as he swallowed betrayed the confident air he'd clearly been trying to exude.

"Calm down, she knows. I told her," Ba'el said as I smiled and got to my feet.

"I also know when it's my cue to leave." Giving poor, startled M'Ven a wink, I started to walk away and give them some privacy. Before I got out of earshot, though, I turned back and called his name. "I think it goes without saying that you'd better be good to her."

Resolve straightened his back and lifted his chin.

"I will, lhhei, you have my word." With that promise obtained, I left them to their own devices, and, though I'd intended to go to my room and sleep, my feet carried me to Tokath's study seemingly of their own volition.

The door was already open, revealing the man in question sitting at his desk and staring into a cup of tea as if it held the answers to life itself. I wanted so badly to kiss the little furrow between his eyebrows and the lines on either side of his mouth...

As if my gaze had called out to him, his eyes lifted from the depths of his tea and caught me hovering in the doorway. His features melted seamlessly from from surprised to relieved to elated in barely a flash.

"Ah, so I haven't been abandoned for the evening, then," he teased as I closed the door behind me. Tokath leaned back in his chair, and I noticed for that there was a second cup of tea sitting on the desk.

"As if I could stay away from you, Commander." Walking over to his desk, I leaned against the polished surface and glanced at his bookshelves for the thousandth time. I knew very well which titles sat on the shelves - even the Klingon ones - but I needed somewhere to look other than at his gorgeous face. "Forgive me for being late. Ba'el and I were talking."

"So that's where you were! I turned to speak with L'Kor for barely a moment after dinner, but when I turned back, my two favorite ladies were nowhere to be found," he said placing a hand over his heart and pouting as if he was deeply wounded. "I thought for a moment you'd been stolen away. I noticed that M'Ven disappeared after a while, as well. I couldn't help but wonder..."

As he trailed off, I felt a brief surge of hope. L'Kor's words and Ba'el's floated into my brain. Maybe they were right. Maybe I did have a chance, after all.

"M'Ven is kind, and he is a friend of mine, but I wouldn't give up your company for his." With my reassurance putting his mind at ease, Tokath grasped my hands and smiled up at me.

"Forgive me, e'lev, I shouldn't be this greedy with you."

Freeing one of my hands, I rested it lightly on his chest.

"There's nothing to forgive. You can be as greedy with me as you want, Tokath," I murmured, and just like that I found myself lost in his gaze. There was a softness in his features when he looked at me, a vulnerability that made me want to wrap him in my arms and never let go. It went through my mind that I could tell him. I could kiss him there, right then, while that gentle trance had us so firmly in its grip, but I couldn't seem to make my mouth move.

"The tea...I'm sorry, it's probably cold by now." His voice was so rough when he spoke that he sounded as though there was gravel in his throat. I could hardly blame him, though. When I spoke, I sounded just as destroyed.

"It's okay. How many evenings have we talked so long that we forgot we even had tea to begin with?" He let out a quiet laugh at my question, and we fell into our usual rhythm of conversation. Before we drifted off together, though, I promised myself that before his daughter left with her own lover, I'd tell Tokath how I felt. If shy, reserved, dutiful M'Ven could ask the woman he loved to be with him, I could tell Tokath how much I adored him.

--

"She matches this little community of misfits well, doesn't she?" The rough voice of his co-leader sounded from just behind Tokath's right shoulder. L'Kor was observing the group of small children on the other side of the courtyard that were listening intently to a story that the Human woman was telling them. "The children like her, their parents trust her...she has even befriended Ta'lana. It's as if she's been here all her life."

"She did say that she felt more at home here than anywhere else," Tokath mused as he watched one of the youngest - a brave Klingon girl of no more than three - climb onto her lap. He couldn't stop himself from smiling at the ease with which she handled life in the colony.

The Klingon leader hummed quietly and they watched as the children begged her to show them a Human game.

"You see it now, do you not, old friend?" L'Kor asked as he and Tokath watched her explain how to play game. She said that it was one that children of her species played called 'hide and seek.' As soon as she turned her back on the giggling group of little ones, they promptly scurried away as she began to count.

"I don't know what you mean," Tokath murmured, but the aged Klingon let out a rough, disbelieving laugh.

"Yes, you do. Whether you wish to admit it or not, you look at that kyamo Human woman, and you feel young again," he rasped as a tiny Romulan boy sped past their feet. "You cannot hide it from me, Tokath. I know you too well. Since she crashed into our lives, you have become more like your old self. You should tell her how you feel."

The Commander shook his head quickly as she turned back toward the courtyard.

"Ready or not, here I come," she called, and a few poorly-suppressed giggles echoed from various not-so-clandestine spots.

"I couldn't. She chose to stay here in this isolated place without a single other member of her species being present. She believed that I alone had the power to banish her. She begged me to stay. I will not jeopardize her newfound happiness by making her feel trapped by an old man's unwelcome attentions," Tokath protested to his old friend.

"'Trapped'? 'Unwanted'? Commander, she seeks out your attention on a daily basis," L'Kor stated as he looked at his friend incredulously. "Have you not noticed how differently she behaves around you than everyone else here? Can you not see the light in her eyes when you give her a reason to smile? My friend, if such a woman looked at me with as much love as that Human lady looks at you, I would have made my interest known long ago."

That made Tokath pause. There had been moments where he believed - where he hoped - that he saw something beyond simple gratitude and friendship in her eyes, but he'd dismissed it, believing that those moments were a product of his own wishful thinking. Even a few nights ago when she still came to him after speaking with Ba'el for so long, there was a charged moment when he felt as thought might have a chance.

He did love her. She was a ray of light in a world that had grown gray and stagnant. He'd sacrificed so much over the years - his home, his career...he'd given everything to ensure that the families of the Klingons living here would not be dishonored. He'd even been forced to surrender his wife to the ravages of time. Did he not deserve to have a moment's pleasure of his own? Did he not have the right to cling to this bright spot and bask in her presence now that he'd found her?

Tokath relished how easily she made him smile...how effortlessly she made him laugh. Her quick wit and warmth had brought so much color to his life. He'd narrowly managed to avoid losing her to the transport, but only just. Had she not come to him and pleaded for a place in the Carraya colony, she would be lightyears from him by now. How long would it be before someone else here - someone younger and more willing to be forthright about their feelings - caught her eye?

He thought he'd revealed too much when he made that offhanded comment about M'Ven, but neither of them had been brave enough to make a move afterward. He cursed his cowardice yet again. He should've kissed her that night.

Taking a deep breath, Tokath nodded his head and mentally acknowledged how fortunate he'd been thus far. He might not be for much longer if he didn't gather his courage. Would his daughter approve now that she'd had a chance to meet her?

A few feet away, she found a Klingon child hiding behind a set of supply crates, and when she looked up Tokath's eyes met hers. His lips stretched into a warm smile reflexively, and she gave him a little wave as she went to look for more of hiding children.

Oh, Elements, he couldn't deny it any longer.

"You've made your point, L'Kor."

"And what are you going to do now that you see your situation more clearly?" Tokath bristled slightly as he turned to look at his friend. "Oh, come now. You cannot tell me that you have not given any thought to the possibilities. Surely, you've at least imagined what you might say if you were to tell her how you feel?"

He had, but most of those daydreams ended in him dejectedly acknowledging that she would likely never be able to return his affections.

Tokath's expression must've said it all, because L'Kor sighed heavily.

"Oh, my friend, do you truly think so little of yourself that you cannot even imagine a happy ending? Take it from me: it was far more difficult for my wife to give me a chance than it will be for that lovely girl to give you one," he said before patting the Commander's shoulder and ambling off.

Perhaps L'Kor was right. Maybe he simply needed to allow himself to consider the possibility that she might react favorably to the fondness, no, love - that was the emotion and he should call it by its name - that he'd developed for her.

A joyful squeal from one of the little ones drew his attention, and he saw his lady being hugged so enthusiastically by the children that she was practically drowning in their affections. She sank to the ground, surrendering good-naturedly to their embraces with a giggle. Tokath couldn't suppress his laughter at the sight of her trying to hug as many of the children in return as her arms could accommodate.

Her eyes found him through the clamor of the group, and his heart thudded alarmingly. Oh, the things she did to him!

One of the children whispered something in her ear, and when she nodded her head, the little girl broke away from the group and ran up to Tokath, looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes as she spoke.

"Mister Tokath, sir? Will you come play with us?" She asked as the rest of the children and his Human watched their interaction.

How could he say no to such a polite request?

--

Later that evening as he walked to his quarters to get ready for dinner, Tokath thought to himself that the afternoon spent playing with the children along with the woman he loved was one of the most enjoyable days he'd had in quite some time. The joy of simply being with her was enough to make him feel like the luckiest Romulan alive.

"When are you going to marry her, Papa?" Ba'el appeared at his side smiling up at his as she looped her arm with his. Had he truly been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard her approach?

"Marry? What are you talking about?" He asked as innocently as he could, but all that earned him was a scoff from his daughter.

"Oh, please. The entire colony knows how you feel about your newest resident," she said, and his cheeks heated up as she continued. "So when are you going to ask her?"

"Ba'el, I...I don't even know if she'll have me–"

"Are we talking about the same woman? When you joined her and the children today, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky," his daughter said. "You haven't been this happy since..."

She didn't have to finish her sentence. He knew what she meant. They both know the significance.

Pulling her to a stop in the hallway, Tokath grasped his daughter's shoulders lightly and looked into her eyes.

"Could you handle that? Could you live with the knowledge that you have a stepmother who is neither Klingon nor Romulan?" Ba'el's opinion of her was important to him - it was the only one that mattered outside of his own on this. He didn't want her to feel as though he was actively attempting to replace her mother. Gi'ral had been unique and he would never wish to disrespect her memory.

But he also didn't wish to be alone for the rest of his life. He adored this Human lady, and he...well, he would dearly love to be her mate.

"Father, I want you to live. I've been worried about you for the last few years, but now...seeing you this happy...I'm so relieved that you've found someone who makes you feel like yourself again. How could I ever object to you finding love?"

Overcome with emotion, Tokath pulled his daughter into a tight hug, nearly sobbing in relief.

"I...have some news, too...about M'Ven and I." She sounded nervous, but in truth, she had no reason to be. Pulling back slightly, Tokath looked at his daughter.

"Ba'el, if you believe that I know nothing of your affections for him or his for you, then you have clearly forgotten that I used to be young, too," he said looking into her eyes. "I wish the both of you every happiness, and if he hurts you, you tell me how much he screams when you tear his head off. And I know you're imminently capable, but if you need help, I'm here for you."

His daughter was right. He needed this. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

--

Tokath's daughter had been on the colony for nearly a week and a half when it happened. I stopped by his quarters to pass along a message from Ta'lana before dinner, but when I reached his doorway, I froze. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror, in his full uniform, tugging it gently in various directions presumably to straighten it. The poses he struck might have looked silly to anyone else, but to me, the imposing figure he made when he puffed up his chest and gave a harsh glare to his reflection made me bite my lip.

Realizing how long I'd been standing there, I knocked on the doorframe and acted as though I'd only just arrived when he turned his head.

"Just the woman I wanted to see," he exclaimed as he turned to face me. "I dug out one of my older uniforms and thought I'd wear it to dinner tonight. What do you think?"

He puffed out his chest once more as I stepped into the room, looking very much like the proud Commanding officer that he was.

"Very handsome...commanding..." I paused when I was right in front of him, itching to touch any part of him that I could. "...Perhaps a little rigid, though."

His smile fell a bit.

"Rigid?"

"Only a little," I answered, and he raised a curious eyebrow.

"How would you fix this...rigidity?" He asked, and I walked a slow circle around him before reaching up to finger the front of the ghastly leather collar at the top of his uniform.

"Does this part come off separately?" Tokath swallowed slightly before letting out a quiet confirmation. "May I?"

The Commander caught both my hands carefully in his and slid them around to the back of his neck where the collar's clasps lay.

"Do what you will with me." His voice had lowered, both in volume and in pitch to something husky...something that made me want to remove more than just this hideous strip of leather. After a moment's pause, I managed to unfasten the clasps and pull the collar away from his throat.

My next movement proved that I wasn't thinking. Once I'd tossed away the unnecessary accessory, I skimmed my fingertips over his neck, savoring the feeling of his pulse thrumming beneath my touch. Tokath's hands grasping my waist made me aware of what I'd done, pulling me out of whatever trance I'd been in and forcing my eyes to meet his.

Anything I'd been preparing to say was obliterated by the hunger in his eyes. Was I imagining it? I could simply have been seeing my own emotions reflected back at me.

Then he took a slow step toward me, and I stopped thinking about anything but how badly I wanted to kiss him. I took a breath and leaned in–

Only to be startled by a call of his name from the hallway. We both took a hasty step back and averted our eyes as Ta'lana appeared in his doorway.

"There you are. I tried to catch up with you, but it turns out you didn't need to deliver your message. I found the extra crates from our last shipment, after all," she said, then she turned her attention to Tokath. "My apologies for the disturbance, Commander. I hope this hasn't been too much of an inconvenience."

Tokath caught my hand and gave me a little wink.

"No, not at all," he said catching my eye. "I always welcome your company, lhhei."

A long, charged pause stretched between us, and my cheeks heated up under his gaze, but finally Ta'lana called my name.

"Come, come. We've taken enough of the Commander's time," she called, and I started toward the doorway.

"See you at dinner," I called over my shoulder, hoping neither of them could hear how unsteady I sounded. His response barely registered as Ta'lana closed the door behind us.

"I'm looking forward to it, e'lev."

--

The atmosphere in the dining hall that evening was different. It felt as though everyone was waiting for something to happen. They seemed nervous, yet...excited? How odd. When Tokath arrived, he took a seat beside me as usual and caught my hand in his. Before I could ask what he was doing, he'd tucked a flower securely in my hair just above my ear. The delicate petals tickled a bit, but I didn't dare risk dislodging it after he'd placed it there so carefully.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but the words just wouldn't come out. He seemed to understand my dilemma, though, because he brushed the back of his knuckles down the the side of my face and swallowed heavily.

The heat that suffused my cheeks when we were alone in his quarters earlier made a spectacularly rapid return, even as dinner was served.

Conversation was hushed, but weighty that night from all sides. People were happy for M'Ven and Ba'el - news had already made its way through the colony like wildfire, sparking surprised exclamations and boastful assertions that people had seen it coming years ago.

But there was something else, as well. Given how peoples' eyes kept straying up to the head table where Tokath and I sat, I guessed that people were wondering how he was taking the news. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that he'd be emotional about his daughter finally choosing a partner. If that was the case, though, why were so many gazes landing on me? Was it the flower? I supposed that I couldn't blame them. After all, I'd been surprised, too.

The Commander offered me his arm when the meal ended and I took it without hesitation, allowing him to lead me out into the gardens. This particular route was one we'd never taken before, and we only stopped when we reached a footpath leading into the forest.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he guided me down it expertly, pushing small branches aside and helping me over a fallen log.

"A secret place I found years ago. As far as I'm aware, nobody else even knows it exists," he said with a wink. After a few more minutes, we reached a curtain of vines. Thinking we'd reached a dead end, I looked around in confusion, but Tokath walked me right up to it with his arm wrapped comfortably around my waist. I looked up at him, and he winked as he parted the vine stems.

Moonlight sparkled and gleamed as it bounced off the surface of a placid lake. A swarm of glowing insects slightly larger than Earth fireflies swirled and played above the water, reminding me of a flock of birds.

"Oh, Tokath, this is beautiful," I murmured. I was almost afraid of speaking too loudly, lest I disrupt the peace that permeated this little place. The branches of the trees surrounding the lake's edge seemed to almost wrap around the clearing like gentle, protective arms.

"I thought you might like this place. I've been waiting for the right moment to share it with you," he whispered against the shell of my ear as his hands rested on my shoulders. Gently, so carefully, he grasped my chin and turned my head toward the left shore. A few feet from the water's edge was a blanket with plush pillows, fluffy towels, and a lantern resting atop it.

That was it. Afraid or not, I was going to kiss Tokath tonight, no matter what. I turned in his grasp only to find the lantern's warm, yellowish glow caressing the adoring smile that stretched his lips.

"Thank you for trusting me with this," I said resting my hands on his chest. It was now or never. Lifting my hand to cup his cheek like I had in his room, I looked into his eyes. "You've been uncharacteristically quiet tonight. Is everything alright?"

That damned smile got wider and he let out a quiet laugh.

"Oh, yes, lhhei. Forgive me," he said drawing me into a hug. "I'm afraid I've been lost in thought."

"Oh? And what has occupied your mind so thoroughly?" I punctuated the question with a quick kiss above his fluttering pulse. The Commander's breath caught in his throat, and I realized that maybe I hadn't imagined the hunger I'd seen in him earlier after all.

His grip on me tightened and he hummed at the question.

"You have, dear lady," he muttered, his voice low and rough. That tone had caused me so much frustration since the first time I heard it. I must've let out a gasp or some other surprised sound, because he nodded his head against my scalp. "Yes, you have been a very prominent element of my thoughts since the day you arrived here, but, lately, I find myself contemplating something that...truthfully, I have no right to even consider."

Feeling his proximity even more than usual, I looked up at him curiously. He didn't relinquish his grip on me one iota, but that suited me just fine. I never wanted to stop touching him.

"Maybe talking about it would help ease your mind? Usually confiding in someone close to me helps when there's something bothering me," I suggested, hoping that he didn't notice how shaky my voice had become.

"I will, but only if you don't mind being the one who listens to me ramble. You see, you're the only one who can help me with this particular problem, but I promise I won't ask you if you're not willing." His voice was low and heavy as he spoke, carrying the same weight I'd noticed more and more lately.

"I'll do anything I can to help, Tokath. You know that," I said offering him a reassuring smile.

"You see, I've been asking myself several very specific questions...ones to which I do not have the answers. If the answers are too personal or if you do not wish to engage in that conversation, you need only tell me, and I will drop the topic. Everything can return to the way it was before. I have no desire to make you feel trapped or to change how you see me."

After his little speech, I felt certain that I knew where this might be going, and anticipation flooded through me. Butterflies beat their wings unceasingly in my abdomen.

"Questions could never change the way I look at you." He shook his head at my assertion.

"These might," he breathed as he averted his gaze. "I haven't spent much time around Humans, as you may have guessed, so I...don't exactly know how someone in your culture might approach something of this nature."

I nodded my head in encouragement as his thumbs began to rub slow circles where they rested on my waist.

"I...You see, I wish to...to..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. "When...Well, with Klingons, the men write poetry, the women throw things at each other. It's rather straightforward. Romulans are more varied in their approaches, and...I suppose what I want to ask is is this: How do I...? I mean, what would you expect of...of a...?"

Tokath let out a frustrated huff and shut his eyes. A blush so vibrant that I could see it in the lantern light darkened his cheeks and spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Oh, fvadt, I'll never say it at this rate. What I'm trying to tell you is that you are beautiful and kind and the part of myself I never thought I'd find," he said sounding much more resolute. "I doubt this is the way a Human would go about it - much less subtlety to it even though you deserve subtlety and romance - but I need you to know that I love you. That I...would like to be your mate. Hell, I don't even know if Humans call their bound partners 'mates' as we do, but that's neither here nor there. I'd, of course, be happy to call us anything that you wish if–"

A surge of courage tore through me, and I cut off the rest of what he was going to say with a kiss. My lips met Tokath's, and he tensed up for a moment before relaxing into it and kissing me back. One of his hands came up and cupped the back of my head, holding me as close to him as was physically possible.

"I love you, too," I blurted as soon as we separated for air. He looked as dazed as I felt, but he still managed to lift me into his arms and carry me to the blanket as his mouth met mine again.

We didn't make it back to the compound until the next morning. With our hands clasped and rather obvious marks marring the skin of our necks, it was obvious to anyone who looked our way that we were both finally whole.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Tokath x Reader #Commander Tokath of Carraya IV #Human x Romulan romance

[literallyjusttoa]

how did the other siblings of apollo react to apollo going no contact (second song au)?

Ok txny I have to thank you because this question made me go big-brained mode last night and now I got paragraphs for you. I hope you like them lol

Ok, first of all, let me actually let y’all know what the incident that made Apollo leave was. So basically, for years Apollo had been held to an unrealistic standard that he could never achieve. Any failures led to harsh punishments, which worsened Apollo’s quality of life, which worsened his performance in all of the stuff Zeus cared about, and the cycle continues. This all came to a head when it came time to apply for college. Zeus wanted Apollo to follow in his footsteps and study law at his alma mater. Apollo really wanted to make music, but he knew that would never go over well. Instead, he applied to a med school, hoping that the job would be prestigious enough that it would impress his father, even if it wasn’t law. 

Sadly Apollo was mistaken, and Zeus became furious. He began constantly berating Apollo, basically telling him that he was basically going to disown him once he turned 18. Eventually Apollo snapped, and the two of them got into a huge fight one night in front of the whole family. Keep in mind that none of the other siblings knew the true extent of how Zeus treated Apollo. Things got physical, with Zeus pushing Apollo down a flight of stairs, giving him a nasty cut, a serious concussion, and getting him hospitalized. This is the last time anyone in the family saw Apollo. Once he woke up, Apollo refused any visitors, and basically went from home straight to college, refusing to talk with any of his family again. 

As for how everyone felt about it?

Ares: 29 years old, currently an active military member stationed in Texas (for reference, the rest of the family is in California). Ares had already left the state when Apollo went no-contact, and the two of them weren’t particularly close. Ares basically didn’t really care, as he’s already pretty distant from the rest of the family as it is. He visits during holidays and makes nice with his younger siblings, but to Ares it’s all just doing what’s expected of him. If Apollo wanted to leave that behind, more power to him.

Hephaestus: 26 years old, currently works as a mechanic in northern California. Hephaestus is the only other family member that has little to no contact with the rest of the family. It’s just that unlike Apollo, there was no fanfare when Hephaestus left. Living with a physical disability in a house where your mother despises you and the man who was meant to be your father was horrifically neglectful kind of sucks, actually. Hephaestus left the family behind at 18, and has been doing pretty well for himself since. Because of this, he actually doesn’t know that Apollo followed in his footsteps two years later. Who knows, maybe the two of them will run into each other in the future. 

Athena: 30 years old, currently working as a historian in her hometown. Athena is actually older than Ares, as Zeus was with Metis before Hera, and just didn’t tell Hera about it. She lived with her mother for 4 years until her untimely death. After that, she had to move in with Zeus and Hera, which was the first time Hera ever heard of her existence. This is also when Hera was pregnant with Hephaestus. Whoops. After all this, Athena has become a bit of a father’s girl, mainly because Zeus would defend her against her stepmother’s hatred. She doesn’t know all of the details of Apollo’s relationship with Zeus, but her love of her father blinds her to any fault he may have had. The two of them don’t talk anymore for a reason. 

Hermes: 22 years old, currently going through undergrad for a degree in communications. Hermes was really hurt by Apollo’s departure, almost as much as Artemis was. He looked up to Apollo a lot, and kind of thought he was infallible. To Hermes, the whole incident came completely out of nowhere, and he still doesn’t know who to stand with. Torn between his brother and his father, he hasn’t tried to contact Apollo since it all happened. 

Dionysus: 20 years old, currently going through undergrad for a degree in theatre. Dionysus is the opposite of Hermes, and desperately wants to get back into contact with Apollo, mainly to soothe his own curiosity. Dionysus was born after the majority of the family drama, and was only 14 when Apollo left. He’s kind of dropped out of the family emotionally, but he still wants to know how everything went down. Sadly, Apollo did change all of his contact information after leaving the house, so Dionysus is left with a bit of a wild goose chase to do on top of all his college work. 

Thalia: 18 years old, currently a senior in high school, looking to pursue professional archery. Thalia and Jason didn’t move into Zeus’ home until they were pretty old, Thalia being 11 and Jason being 9. This means that Thalia only spent a year in the house with Apollo before he left, and didn’t really know him that well. She mostly just feels bad for Artemis.

Jason: 16 years old, currently a sophomore in high school. Apollo left when Jason was only 10, so he really doesn’t remember that much about him. All he remembers is that Apollo used to drive him to school when Hera was too busy (or just wouldn’t bother) and watch over him while Zeus was at work. If you were to ask Jason what he thought of Apollo before they reunited, he would have said that his brother seemed like a kind person.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #au #ask #long post #I already liked this au but now it's growing on me even more #side thing: Apollo and Artemis basically took care of Thalia and Jason for a year after they came to the house #because if anyone would parentify their children it would be zeus and hera :X