Tumgik
#otp: words chosen carefully
sgiandubh · 7 months
Text
Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall Fraser (Grey)
I wanted to go to sleep, happy enough with a no drama birthday.
Something was nagging me in this very carefully worded donation statement:
Tumblr media
Why Claire Beauchamp?
Why not Claire Fraser, which would have been the logical - hell, obvious! - choice?
So I was tossing & turning and instead of counting sheep, I was entertaining the earworm... "Beauchamp.... Beauchamp... Beauchamp"...
And then...
Tumblr media
... BUT OF COURSE!
Remember this?
Tumblr media
The mythical Hyde Park Walk, when ...uhm... things were said. Following which, a decision to have each other's back was made & set in stone.
I don't think (correct me if I am wrong) we do have the precise day for this pivotal moment in the S&C saga. But we know it was September 2013 and certainly after 9/11/2013, when C was cast as Beauchamp, hehe.
Remember also this?
Tumblr media
... followed by this:
Tumblr media
Two can play that game, indeed.
Something happened between 9/11/2013 and 9/16/2013. Five days (that shook their world, to paraphrase John Reed's seminal book on the Russian Bolshevik Revolution).
I amused myself a lot with Google Maps, tonight:
Tumblr media
It's a ten minutes walk from Hyde Park to Beauchamp Place. Ok, fifteen, at a more leisurely pace.
I would also suggest checking @ashmarie1687's post on this topic (https://ashmarie1687.tumblr.com/post/637622028553289728/where-it-all-began). I am not the only loon who connected these dots.
Tomorrow, I will be crucified for this, for sure. But just tell me: do you have a better explanation for this donation the size of the Spanish Indies, and then some more?
What fan would be so pathologically invested, as to remember these details and act upon them and state them in charming charade form?
Thought so.
Only a person involved in that 'two can play that game' episode would say Beauchamp instead of Fraser, exactly ten years after the facts occured.
A milestone, indeed.
Ok, Sir. Your kilt is showing. :) And this is the sweetest trolling of this entire fandom to date.
I rest my case.
[edit]: Thanks to Mushka's tantrum on X, I am now aware that OTP is One Tree Planted, the NGO chosen by S for the yearly MPC's big charity project in 2022. That good man spent his birthday planting trees on behalf of OTP with Peakers, by the way (https://onetreeplanted.org/blogs/stories/my-peak-challenge):
Tumblr media
177 notes · View notes
fantastic-rambles · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity
Characters: Ainosuke Shindo, Tadashi Kikuchi
Warnings: None?
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: When Tadashi wakes up in Ainosuke's body and finds the other man in his own, they both have no choice but to navigate their lives as each other until they find a way to return things to normal. Ainosuke is thrilled... and Tadashi far less so. [Year of the OTP 2023 @yearoftheotpevent. July: power swap (body swap)]
- - - - - - - - - -
The first thing that Tadashi noticed when he woke up was that he was on the wrong side of the bed.
The second thing he noticed was his own face, his expression relaxed in sleep. A set of familiar arms, wrapped in silk pajamas, were wrapped around his body… arms that seemed to be attached to him.
Was he still asleep and dreaming? It was a strange dream, but dreams could often be odd. Frowning, he closed his eyes again, breathing slowly and deeply to try to "fall asleep" again and dismiss this odd reality. But when he opened his eyes once more, nothing had changed.
His frown deepened, and he shifted his hands so he could pinch the back of one of them with the other, but that didn't work either. The movement seemed to disturb the version of himself that he was holding, though, and he snuggled closer with a soft sound of protest.
"'dashi? Is it time to get up already?" his other self mumbled, and he found himself responding automatically.
"It's alright. You can sleep a little longer…"
His words caught in his throat as he was startled to full wakefulness. He was on Ainosuke's side of the bed, wearing his master's pajamas, gently embracing his own body. And it seemed like Ainosuke was in his own.
"Ai?" he asked hesitantly, and Ainosuke hummed in acknowledgment as he hugged him tighter.
"Ai!" he repeated more urgently, and he watched as his eyes opened sleepily, gazing upon him with a familiar, soft expression that was unfamiliar on his own face. Ainosuke was slower to take stock of their situation—he'd never been much of a morning person—but Tadashi saw the moment that realization set in: the slight widening of his eyes, the smile starting to fade…
"Tadashi?" his master replied, turning his head to take in their surroundings, and everything felt too real to be a mere dream. This was… this was…
"I'll fix this," he promised, even though he had no idea how he would start going about doing such a thing. But he'd dedicated his life to Ainosuke, to ensuring that he would experience as little discomfort as possible and have everything he wanted, within reason. And he felt slightly reassured when Ainosuke smiled back at him.
"I know you will."
Then, Ainosuke groaned and stretched, the movement familiar and extremely attractive, even now that he wasn't in his own body. It only proved what Tadashi had always believed: that no matter who he was, Ainosuke would draw people's eye with his charm and charisma. After all, he was in Tadashi's body, which was made for not standing out. His mannerisms helped, of course, but he'd chosen his image very carefully so that he would be unnoticeable. As a servant, his role was to be neither seen nor heard, but to always be by his master's side nevertheless. As a political secretary, or as a capman, the same held true: he was always a background character. And he was more than satisfied with that.
"But in the meantime, we'll have to make sure that nobody finds out about this, right?" Ainosuke added, a note of amusement in his voice. "Do your best in the committee meeting today, 'dashi. Don't embarrass me too much."
He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Tadashi's forehead before climbing out of bed and heading over to the closet, tugging it open. Immediately, Tadashi followed him, watching as he pulled out a new set of clothes for each of them. However, when Ainosuke reached toward him, he protested, taking a step back.
"Ainosuke-sama. Please allow me to assist you—"
"No, no, no. I'm you right now, right? So I should be the one helping you change and everything!"
Ainosuke sounded far too delighted with this situation, while Tadashi had to repress the urge to sigh.
"If that is what you wish. However, I would never sound that exuberant in my speech."
"Oh, I know you're a bore, so I obviously won't do it in the office. But it's just the two of us here," Ainosuke pointed out as he started to unbutton Tadashi's top to help him out of it. "If anything, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself? Do you really think your acting is so good that nobody will figure out that something is wrong?"
"I'll wear a face mask and tell everyone that you're feeling ill. That should help to cover up for any of my deficiencies and also help to promote your image as someone dedicated to his work."
"Ah! That's cheating!" Ainosuke argued as he pulled a dress shirt over Tadashi's shoulders and began to button it up, but Tadashi disregarded that: it was the best option that he could think of so far. When it came to the content of Ainosuke's meetings and speeches, he was reasonably confident that he could earn a passing mark on them, as he'd been heavily involved in all of his master's work. However, as Ainosuke had pointed out, he couldn't fill his shoes entirely, especially when there would be so many eyes on him, and many of them would be looking for a weakness that they could exploit in the young politician.
He tilted his head back slightly to allow Ainosuke to wrap a tie around his neck, twisting it together before pulling the knot snug against his throat and smoothing the collar over it. But when Ainosuke crouched down in front of him, slipping his fingers under Tadashi's waistband to tug off his pajama bottoms, Tadashi flinched, taking a step back.
"Ainosuke-sama," he protested softly, and his master clicked his tongue.
"Stop whining. Until you find a solution to this, we need to get used to it. We can't have me acting too unnaturally, right? Even if I am 'sick.'"
That was true, but there were no other eyes here. There was no need to keep up the act, especially when Ainosuke's hands slid around to rest on the small of his back, keeping Tadashi from retreating further.
"And as intriguing as the prospect of literally fucking myself is, I do have a meeting this morning, right? You'll have to bear with it until this evening."
Tadashi felt the heat rise to his face at the implications, but he let Ainosuke finish changing his clothes without further incident. While his master began to change as well—by himself, at his insistence—he headed to the kitchen to make their breakfast. As well-intentioned as the other man was, if he left it to Ainosuke, he had a suspicion that their food would either end up burnt or half-raw. Or both.
Still, it was a relief that they were in Tokyo rather than Okinawa. If this had happened at the estate, it would have been much harder to cover up. The excuse of sickness would be a good excuse to keep them here, as well, until they were able to sort this matter out.
But how had this happened? Magic, curses, superstition… none of that actually existed in the real world. And what would they do if they couldn't figure out a way to reverse this? They couldn't pretend to be each other forever.
Then again, perhaps this was an opportunity, if it couldn't be fixed. A chance for Ainosuke to truly break free of his chains and do what he really wanted to do. If it was for his master's sake, Tadashi wouldn't mind taking his place: he was never one for fiery speeches that inspired others, but he could at least try to give a few before gradually transitioning to an older, more steady politician.
"Mmmm. Smells good, 'dashi."
Tadashi was startled out of his thoughts by his own voice as Ainosuke leaned against him, peering into the pan. It was jarring: his own voice, the dark hair and somber suit, the weight that was lighter than he was used to…
"Thank you." Tadashi split the food between two plates, adding a few slices of toast before carrying them over to the table and setting them down. He took his usual seat, Ainosuke sitting across from him, and they both started to eat. It was a simple, Western-style breakfast: Ainosuke liked having it when they were in Tokyo, since his meals at the manor were more traditional. He'd also set out a cup of coffee for each of them, and Tadashi murmured his thanks as he finished quickly and began to wash up.
"Wait, let me help!" Ainosuke called from the table, where he was still eating, but Tadashi shook his head.
"It won't take long," he reassured the other man. It really wouldn't, and he was fairly certain that Ainosuke had never washed dishes in his life. More likely than not, Tadashi would end up needing to redo his work, unless he just set his master to rinsing. And indeed, he was already done by the time Ainosuke finished his own meal and carried his dishes over.
But Ainosuke was still smiling as Tadashi hung the apron up and they started getting ready to head out.
"I'm driving, right?"
Tadashi froze with the keys in his hand. He'd automatically grabbed them from the bowl, and while he'd considered an excuse for any slip-ups in his behavior, he hadn't considered this.
"Do you even know how to drive?"
"How hard can it be?"
So no. It wouldn't make sense for them to call for a cab, not unless "Tadashi" stayed home. For the same reason, he couldn't be seen driving, himself.
"Would you like to take the day off?" he suggested, but as he expected, Ainosuke shook his head, holding his hand out for the keys. Tadashi sighed.
"Then at least let me pull the car out, and I'll give you instructions. Please drive slowly, and if anything unexpected happens, use the brake. The brake, alright?"
"Got it!"
Even so, it was a heart-thumping ride to the Diet, with Tadashi calling out warnings and instructions from the back seat as he held onto the door with a white-knuckled grip. Really, it was a miracle that they didn't get into an accident, and as Tadashi parked the car, he hoped that whatever this was would resolve itself before they had to go home.
3 notes · View notes
daintyduck99 · 2 years
Note
ahhhh for the fic ask game! 6, 7, 10, 14, 15
6. Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics
There are SO MANY moments from your stories that stick with me because the emotional impact and the imagery and the layers are so good. Like, there's Reggie removing the pins from Julie's hair in flso, which is so intimate and such a good sensual segue, but they haven't admitted that they're in love yet so there's that extra sharp bit of pining that reads like "you're here with me, as my spouse, seeing me in a way that no one else will, but you aren't really mine and I wish you were" and there are a lot of moments like that in that fic alone that make me feel like I literally need to lay down and decompose (as I've said haha). How could I go on after that without going insane?
Any time you do conflict it also tends to stand out to me: the fight over her performance in the same story and the fights in leave the light on are so evocative because they both have good points and they're such organic conflicts.
7. What made me the most emotional after reading
Probably all of leave the light on, if the novel I left in your inbox is anything to go by. Seriously, there are so many poignant lines that just steal my breath in that fic. And that opening line alone! I had to keep pausing when I first read it to flail and cry and process and I'd say that I was on the edge of my seat but I remember quite vividly that I was sitting on the floor. Also--that threat about emotional damage still stands, lol.
10. A character/ship I didn't enjoy/think about as much before you wrote about them
It has to be Reggie's mom! I'd thought about all of the boy's parents before at least vaguely, because the show doesn't give us much and there's so much potential there, but heart like a wheel really brought her into sharp focus and I love what you did with that fic and I'll forever be mourning the state of her relationship because they were so in love once and the tragedy of the way they grow apart--it's so real (also the way they used to work at the pizza parlor and he'd kiss her tasting like tomatoes PLEASE).
You also got me invested in Sweet Tarts, which was another sort of "I was vaguely interested in this" thing where I already shipped them together with Julie, but you really sold me on the Reggie/Carrie dynamic, haha.
14. A fic I didn't expect to like so much
I don't think I've ever read any of your fics without expecting to like them, if that makes sense. I love the way you write and how all of your words feel so carefully chosen. You could write for the nichest thing, like, you could write a Carlos/OC fic from the perspective of Carlos' cat, and I'd be like "I'd die for this cat and this is my new OTP."
15. A question I have about one of your fics
This is a very general question, but: what's your favorite thing that you've learned from doing research for a fic?
4 notes · View notes
deansmom · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
243 notes · View notes
creamecream · 3 years
Note
11 with Zhongven? 👀 (*Vibrates in Make the Crem Happy*)
*vibrates in writing otp!*
Tumblr media
11-Taking a bath together.
“C’mon!”
Venti sing songed, the lit of his voice growing higher as he smacked the surface of the water in Zhongli’s large stone bathtub. “It’s warm!”
Zhongli barely spared Venti a glance as he pinned his hair back into a messy bun and rolled up his sleeves, removing his gloves to show off the geo markings littering his hands.
“I’m sure it’s fine, love,”
Zhongli stated, leaning over his countertop to look into the mirror and wipe any smudges of stray makeup off of his face. “but I refuse to bath with you when you broke a window to get in here.” The older god stated bluntly, pointing a finger down at the mess of glass he had been sweeping up before the mischievous wind god had splashed him with water from the bath.
“Morax!” Venti whined, leaning over the side of the stone, his form completely bare of covering besides the warm water he let pour off of him in rivulets, wiggling his fingers to get the dragon adepti’s geo colored eyes on him. “Morax! Morax! Morax~!”
Venti began to pout when his husband ignored him, the dragon just continuing to sweep up the wind sprite’s mess.
“Pay attention to me!” Venti whined, slumping dramatically for good measure. “I came all the way here to see my adoring husband and he is ignoring me! how is that fair? Zhongliiiiiii!”
Only at the use of his mortal vessel’s name did the geo lord finally open his eyes to look at his husband, carefully putting his broom and the dustpan clattering with glass into a corner to be stored properly later. the dragon than began to undress, letting his suit buttons come undone neatly and precisely while his husband hungrily looked him over.
Zhongli stopped at his belt, causing Venti to whine high in his throat. “hey!” the anemo god squeaked out, near sending a wave of water over the edge of the tub as the wind blowing in through the broken window in responded to his irritation. “baby! not fair!” the younger god smacked the side of the tub with a wet hand. “not fair! not fair!”
At this response Zhongli finally couldn’t hold himself back anymore and burst out in laughter, his sharp teeth visible as he leaned over the countertop. “I love you,” Zhongli mumbled, before finally discarding the remains of his outfit and sinking into the warm water, leaning his head back onto Venti’s shoulder who was seated behind him. “better?” Zhongli asked, his voice low.
Venti hummed in contentment, undoing the tie of his husband’s hair and letting the brown locks cascade down and between his fingers, massaging the silken strands and letting them slip into the water, the movement of his hands skilled and unhurried, like he were strumming an instrument.
Venti kissed the adepti’s neck gently before reaching over to squirt some shampoo into his hands, the bathroom beginning to smell of cecelias, which caused Venti to crane his neck to look the other archon in the eye. “cecelias?” Venti asked, but the smirk on his lips made it clear he already knew why the other man had chosen such a foreign scent to the denizens of Liyue.
“reminds me of you.” Zhongli stated without a second thought, nodding his head in affirmation. “it’s your favorite flower, and I love you, so I love them.”
No matter how many times the younger god had heard those words they still sent a rather obvious shiver down the anemo archon’s spine, and Venti quickly reached over, grabbing a hold of one of Zhongli’s hands and giving the scarred and roughened skin a gentle peck. “I love you too,” Venti said confidently, a bright smile lighting up his face.
109 notes · View notes
starlightrows · 3 years
Text
Exactly The Way You Are
Pairing: Modern!Boba Fett x fem!reader 
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: EXPLICIT self body shaming, potential body dysmorphia, hurt/comfort, body worship, oral (f receiving), soft!Boba 
Summary: You’re feeling insecure about your body and start changing how you dress in attempt to hide from your negative feelings. Boba is not having any of it. 
AN: Requested by @otp-lovers   
Every single one of you is beautiful, exactly the way you are
Early spring is not usually the optimal time for spending the day at the beach. It’s still too cold to swim, and at times too cloudy to tan. But if you’re heading to the coast to enjoy some fresh air, listen to the waves crash on the beach, and enjoy a bowl of clam chowder it’s perfect! You and two of your girl friends decided to drive out for the day to get some lunch, take a nice long walk and catch up on life. Normally you would have liked to do a day trip like this in the company of your boyfriend Boba, but he’s been exceptionally busy with work the last couple days. 
“You’re tempting me to play hooky and just go with you in that sundress baby,” he pauses by the door taking the time to rake his eyes over your form. 
“You could, I don’t think the girls would mind,” you smile sweetly batting your eyelashes for him knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to say yes. You just wanted to tease him. He groans in response, but shakes his head, also knowing he is not at liberty to accept your offer. So instead he tells you to go enjoy yourself, say hello to your friends for him. 
The drive down to the coast is pleasant with good music, your friends singing and talking and laughing, and the weather is actually even nicer than you expected. And there isn’t even a line to get into your favorite restaurant in the area. After a lovely lunch you and your friends take off your shoes and walk down the beach to dip your toes in the water. 
There are a couple groups of people sunbathing, children splashing in the water, playing volleyball. It’s like summer has come early, you almost wish you’d worn your swimsuit. You and your friends decide to kick off your shoes and wade in the water a bit and take some pictures together. Another group of girls a little ways down the beach also taking pictures and laughing approach your group asking if one of you would be willing to take some group pictures on them, and that they would be happy to return the favor. 
As your friend took one of the girls phones to take some nice group pictures, you stand off to the side and can’t help but stare. These girls all have gorgeous hair, long sleek legs, flat tummies with belly rings, and perky full breasts. Not a blemish on their perfectly tanned skin, though you suspected their tans may be less than authentic given the current time of year. Still you couldn’t help comparing yourself, you felt a bit pudgy in your sundress wishing you had ordered something lighter for lunch, and mentally cursing the wind for blowing your dress around you and making you look bigger and more awkward as opposed to windswept and attractive like these girls. You think about the upcoming summer, and your collection of swimsuits at home… true they’re pretty and comfortable but you wish you could wear and feel confident in the kind of swimsuits these girls are wearing. 
The other group of girls finished up their pictures and you tried your best to appear confident and unbothered when they turned the camera on you and your friends. You didn’t want to bring down the mood, so you plastered on a smile and tried to laugh along with your friends for the remainder of the trip. 
After dropping off your friends you head home, anxious to take a shower and get the sand off of your body. Unfortunately you knew Boba would not be home until very late, so it would just be you for a bit. Oh well, that just means watching whatever you want on tv with no complaint. You shower and wash your hair, taking your time to fully feel clean. Stepping out of the shower and ringing out your hair, you feel a lot better now that there wasn’t sad in places it should not be. 
You cross into the bedroom and slip one of your favorite nighties on to relax for the evening, but when you turn around and catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror you stop and stare at your reflection. You frowned at yourself, turning to your side to catch a glimpse of your profile and finding it no better in your opinion. You turn away from yourself and remove the nighty tossing it unceremoniously onto the chair at your vanity table. Instead you dig out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of Boba’s sweatpants. You look back at yourself in the mirror and shrug your shoulders… good enough… before heading back out into the living room to put on some mindless tv and waste time on instagram and tik tok. 
That was a horrible idea. You spent hours down the social media spiral, looking at pictures and videos of seemingly perfect people with perfect lives and perfect bodies that always seemed to know the perfect thing to say. It made you sick to your stomach. Eventually you fall asleep laying on the couch with the tv still playing. By the time Boba gets home you’re lightly snoring and your arm is hanging off the side of the couch. He chuckles at finding you in such a disheveled state, but takes care to carefully lift you up off the couch and carry you to bed. 
In the morning you wake up to the sounds of him moving around in the bedroom, though he is trying very hard to be quiet and not wake you up. He notices you stirring and returns to the bed to sit next to you. He’s fully dressed, ready to head out again. 
“Hey,” he whispers, stroking your hair. You smile sleepily at him, and mumble some kind of greeting. “I’m just about to head out. I’ll be home late again tonight, try to go to bed before you pass out on the couch,” he teases. You scrunch up your nose and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. 
He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead, “Only a couple more days of these long shifts baby. You’ll have me all to yourself again come this weekend,” 
“Good,” you murmur “I don’t like going to bed by myself,” 
He chuckles again, and gives your three more little kisses before saying goodbye and leaving the bedroom. It’s still pretty early and you went to bed very late last night, so you rolled over and went back to sleep for another hour or two. When you do get up to start your day, you find that your closet full of dresses, skirts, and generally fun cute outfits does not bring you the usual joy of picking out one to wear. The thought of showing off your figure makes you feel anxious and unwell, so instead you opt for a pair of comfortable joggers and another baggy t-shirt.
The day passes by slowly going about your errands and daily chores getting less work done than you would have liked. You feel a little blah, and just can’t seem to shake off the brain fog that’s plaguing you. You eat dinner by yourself, and turn in early for the night once again wearing Boba’s clothes that are far too big for you. He likes it when you wear them anyway. At some point in the night, Boba comes home and happily slides into bed next to you to catch what little sleep he can before getting up for an early start once more. This time he’s already gone when you wake up, but you can tell he’s been around. His clothes are in the laundry basket, and there’s a coffee cup in the sink. 
To your delight, there is another cup of coffee poured sitting in the refrigerator chilling. You happily mix in ice and creamer, thinking about how lucky you are to have a boyfriend that takes that extra step for you. One of his many little ways to let you know he loves you. It lifts your spirits a bit, but not enough to shake you from standing naked in front of your closet glaring at your clothes. They offend your eyes, and make you long for things you shouldn’t. So you settle for another haphazard outfit that hides your figure, and dampens your mood. 
The day passes you by though you are able to be a least a little more productive than yesterday. You start the laundry, and wash the dishes. Call to reschedule your dentist appointment, and even get in a couple hours of actual work for your job. But this looming cloud of distraction and general sadness prevails, and you don’t get to many of the other things on your list for the day. As you get ready for bed, wearing Boba’s clothes for the third night in a row you took comfort in the knowledge that tomorrow when you woke up, Boba would be there and he would not have to go to work. Surely that would make you feel better. 
In the morning you happily roll over and cuddle into Boba’s warm chest. You had made a reservation for the two of you to go to brunch, but that isn’t until 10:30am so that leaves plenty of time to snuggle. Lazy kisses and whispered good mornings shared across the pillows and under the sheets. Eventually though you do both get up and get ready to go out for the day. You choose a pair of jeans and a nice-ish t-shirt that you tuck in, you feel a little better than you have the last few days and take the time to do your hair and makeup. 
Boba turns when he hears you coming towards the living room, and he has to put in real effort not to let his face show his concern when he observes your somewhat drab outfit you’ve chosen. You never give up an opportunity to get dressed up cute, especially when he’s taking you out on a date. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks, extending a hand out for you to take, you accept his hand but feel your anxiety rising in your throat and burning your cheeks. 
“Yeah… I’m sorry, I can put on one of mine if it bothers you,” you drop your gaze and shift uncomfortably. Boba is unsure of what to make of this, so he proceeds cautiously.
“Hm… how about that blue dress? The navy one you like so much,” he suggests running his thumbs over your knuckles and swinging your arm just a little to get your attention. But you keep your gaze fixed on his shoes, and give your head a little shake.
“I… don’t want to wear that one today,” you say, pulling your hand away. Now he’s really concerned, you were fine when you woke up this morning, what changed. 
“Sweetheart you love that dress, what’s wrong?” he asks 
“It’s nothing I just… I just don’t feel particularly dressy at the moment” you admit, rubbing your arm and still making every effort not to look at him. 
“And why’s that?” he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him “Come on kitten, there are no secrets between us,” 
Your lip quivers a bit, you don’t want to verbalize what’s been bothering you. But his eyes are so tender and concerned, and his grip on your chin is insistent and firm. So you relent. 
“I spent too long on instagram looking at influencers and celebrities, and me and the girls took some pictures for another group of girls at the beach the other day. They were all so beautiful with their flat stomachs, perfect tans, and full breasts. I’m sure they work hard to look that way, and I’m sure they have their own insecurities, but I look at them and I think… why can’t I look like that?”
“I don’t want you to look like them” he says 
“What?” you jerk your head back just a little and look up at him. 
“I don’t want you to look like anyone else in the world, I want you to look like you. Exactly the way you are” he slides his hands under your shirt, pulling it out from where its been tucked into your jeans, settling on your hips. He takes a step closer and dips his head down to kiss each of your cheeks. 
“I want you to wear whatever clothes you like, especially the sweet little dresses I know you love so much,” be begins pressing kisses down your neck, and sliding his hands down over your ass. “I want you to know that you’re my girl. My absolutely gorgeous, perfect girl” 
He’s leading you back into the bedroom, walking you backwards slowly and carefully, whispering praises into the skin of your neck between hot kisses. The backs of your knees hit the edge of bed, and you lower yourself down onto it. 
Your hands rest on his sides smoothing over his soft tummy through his shirt, you think about his body. It doesn’t fit society's view of an ideal man, not overly muscled, spray tanned and polished. In the same way you’re not like the models and celebrities you’d been comparing yourself to. 
He pushes you down by the shoulder, coaxing you to lay down as he runs his big hands up and down your sides, dipping down under your shirt and reaching up to palm your breasts. His rough thumbs brush over the quickly stiffening peaks of your nipples. His lips drag over your jaw and you moan at his ministrations. 
“Babe,” you manage to get out, “we’re gonna miss our reservations,” 
He releases his hold on your nipples, and strips off your shirt. He hikes you up higher on the bed, and captures your lips in an insistent kiss. 
“Don’t care,” he growls, “this is more important,” he licks a stripe from your chin all the way down your neck and sucks a mark between your breasts. His fingers work to rid you of your bra. When it’s been discarded somewhere into the room, he turns his attention back to your nipples and takes one into his mouth and suckles on it, rolling the other between his fingers. Your soft moans and wandering hands encourage him, and he switches to your other nipple. 
After a minute or two he releases your nipple from his mouth, and comes back up to recapture your lips. His hands trail down, fingers dipping into the waistline of your jeans. He breaks the kiss, as he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans pulling them down slowly over your ass. You kick them the rest of the way off and spread your legs a bit so he can settle comfortably between them.  
“Your cute little dresses usually make this a lot faster, princess. But I don’t mind taking my time,” he rasps. Your breath hitches as he slides your panties down, and drops his head down in between your thighs. His breath ghosts over your core, already beginning to get a bit wet in anticipation. His hands rub up and down the outsides of your thighs as he begins peppering gentle kisses over the soft skin of your inner thighs. Climbing higher and higher until he reaches your lower lips. 
Without warning his tongue darts out and splits your lips, licking a broad stripe up from the bottom and stopping at your clit to latch on and begin sucking. His tongue continues prodding in and out as he devours your wet cunt. His hands cup your ass and squeeze, pulling you apart further. Your chest is heaving and your mind feels like it’s narrowing in on the building feeling of your impending orgasm. 
“Boba,” you gasp out “I-- I’m gonna cum… I-” 
He doesn't answer in words, he growls into your aching cunt and moves his tongue faster to get you over the edge. Your orgasm is blinding in its intensity, sending your mind reeling as your choke out strangled cries of pleasure. As you’re coming down from your high, Boba releases your swollen clit from his lips and kisses his way back up to you, dragging his hands up with him. He whispers the sweetest words into your skin.   
“Mmm you’re my girl. My sweet, perfect girl. I’ll spend the rest of my days showing you how perfect you truly are,”
89 notes · View notes
1rintooru · 3 years
Text
Little Agreements
Tumblr media
Pairing: teacher! Sugawara Koshi x gn! reader
Themes: fluff, enemies to lovers 
Word Count: 2k one-shot
Warnings: light swearing - that’s all!
Summary: You and Sugawara are rival teachers at a reputable elementary school. Even though you can hardly stand each other, your students have started shipping you together and it’s just awfully annoying! Little do they know, you’ve been keeping a secret from them the entire time.
a/n: teacher suga is good suga... this was so fun to write and purely self-indulgent - i can't get him outta my fat brain🥴 but enjoy anyways..!
You clicked your pen once. Twice. Three times. Perhaps to an outsider it would appear that you were annoyed – impatient even, but you knew it was nothing more than a habit, much like the restless tapping of your foot or improper care kept to personal belongings. You eyed the worn-down mathematics book that was currently being hastily shoved into a backpack, the spine barely keeping the pages glued together.
“Looks like you’re all set to go,” you proclaimed, putting down your pen and eyeing the student in front you. The boy beamed, yanking the zipper of his backpack shut and throwing it over his shoulder.
“Couldn’t have done it without ya, teach!”
You nodded and smiled appreciatively. You were flattered but you couldn’t take all the credit. The boy you were tutoring for a couple weeks now always claimed he didn’t care for school; you still remembered how he once told you that sports were ‘where it’s at’ – whatever that meant. However, the improved grades paired with the purple shadows under his eyes told you an entirely different story. He’d made his way to the door, his hand already grasping the handle before turning around, an impish grin plastered on his face.
“Even though you and Sugawara-sensei are cute together, we’re still gonna beat your butts!”
You bolted out of your seat and glowered at the young boy.
“Don’t you have other classes to tend to?”
He smirked at your chagrin.
“I’ll see ya around!” he shouted, sending you a quick a wave goodbye before finally leaving the room. You plopped back into your seat upon hearing the door close behind the student, rubbing your temple discontentedly.
Ah. Of course.
How could you forget the school speed quiz? It was an annual event that the school implemented three years ago as a means to motivate students and raise class scores. The idea was that a group of children would be chosen to represent their class and be quizzed on a variety of subjects – the questions becoming increasingly difficult as the game progressed. At the time you sneered at the idea and even complained to the school director that it would only waste funds and resources. Now you were glad that he didn’t listen to you, though he could have skipped laughing in your face. With that being said, the event was a double-edged sword. It made you incredibly happy and filled you with pride seeing students find the joy in learning again, but on the other hand it only exacerbated the teasing comments from the students. They adored seeing you two together and you never could quite wrap your head around it. After all, you and Sugawara were rivals.
Your eyes darted down to your wristwatch: fifteen minutes left until next period. Not a whole lot of time, but just enough to shotgun a coffee and have snack in the solace of the staffroom. You hurriedly tidied the mess on your desk, arranging everything to your liking for the next class before finally stepping out into the bustling commotion of the school hallway. Excited chitter-chatter and non-discreet gossip filled halls as you found yourself surrounded by young children. Each face was familiar and you could have assigned a name to every single one. Even the tall one with fluffy gray hair and gentle brown eyes with the recognizable birthmark.
Wait, no – that’s no child; that’s Sugawara.
He walked towards you with a pep in his step and a bright grin, parting the busy hallway like Moses as students stared at him slack-jawed and awestruck. He was the school celebrity, proven by the sheer number of students that called out to him as he passed – and he loved it. You tried to swerve around him, but it was surprisingly difficult to escape through a sea of grade schoolers.
Damn it, just when you were looking forward to that coffee!
“Here, like I promised.”
Sugawara’s voice rang clearly as he firmly pressed a stack of essays into your hands, the weight of the stack momentarily catching you off guard. Your eyes instinctively scanned the first page laying on top. As per usual, your students performed well in academic pursuits but that wasn’t what bothered you.
“Green glitter gel pen?” you teased, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.
His hazel eyes gleamed confidently. “Hey, we agreed that I would help grade assignments that you couldn’t catch up on – you never said I couldn’t use my colored pens!” He mirrored your teasing lilt before continuing. “Besides, from a psychological standpoint the color green is more uplifting and motivational than a harsh red.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong. You both had agreed that you would tutor his students in mathematics and sciences while he would help grade assignments to take some of the workload off your plate. But that didn’t make his claim any more convincing and it only made you roll your eyes disparagingly.
“That pseudo-science is why I’m the one tutoring your students.”
“Geez, point made Y/N!” he scratched his head embarrassedly, the other hand defensively creating a barrier between the two of you.
“Y/L/N,” you quickly corrected him.
Sugawara’s posture visibly deflated at the curtness of your words. As mature and gentle as he was, he had a tendency to have his heart on his sleeve. You felt a little guilty and even considered saying something to mince your words, but the opportunity was stolen from you as a group of young girls skipped past, snickering as they went.
“Oh my god, Y/L/N-sensei and Suga-senpai are flirting again!”
Your secure stance faltered as the unsuspecting comment hit you like a brick, nearly making you drop all your papers. Sugawara’s eyebrow quirked upwards, thoroughly amused by your loss of composure. You hoped that the heat you felt in your face couldn’t be seen from the outside as you gingerly smoothed out the folds of your sweater.
“Suga-senpai?”
Sugawara’s playful grin immediately dropped as he noticed the daggers you glared at him.
“Huh?! A-ah it’s not like I told them to call me that! It – it just kinda happened.”
Seeing him so flustered would normally have made you smile, but you weren’t going to give him any kind of reassurance. Besides, it would have only worked as ammunition for privy students stalking your conversation. So instead, you simply shook your head, an exasperated sigh just barely escaping from your pursed lips.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I have a coffee waiting for me – and you have recess duty, have you already forgotten? So, if you’ll excuse me.”
You gave him a patronizing poke on the shoulder as you moved past him, beelining towards the staffroom.
The two of you were so vastly different in your teaching methods. You took your work seriously and prided yourself in the academic success of your students – your class always scored extraordinarily well. You were stern but incredibly ambitious and dedicated to your craft. Sure, Sugawara was popular with the kids, but playing the role as best friend wasn’t going to help them pass their classes. You failed to understand why most of the schoolchildren were obsessed with you two being an intimate couple; even prior to the school speed quiz event the two of you were rivals. His laissez-faire teaching methods didn’t mesh well with your own – in fact, you resented them. That’s why it was akin to pouring salt into a fresh wound when each year your respective classes tied during the annual event.
You decided to ignore the thought. This year was going to be different.
****
Oh, how you loved being the one responsible for cleanup duty.
At least, that’s what you would say if it weren’t that you were the only one responsible for cleanup duty.
As you watched one of your students – a petite girl with long dark hair – collect a pile of dirt into a plastic dustpan, you began to wonder how Sugawara roped you into this. Again. You and him had a lot of agreements, for the sake of professionalism of course, but this was not one of them. The school day seemed to drudge on forever and you were not spared from any incessant comments, even in its final moments. Ironically, one of your pupils turned into somewhat of a teacher as they explained to you what ‘shipping’ and ‘OTP’ meant.
Why on earth would they consider you and Sugawara something like that?
You dismissed the remaining students after carefully examining the room. The floors were cleaned and the whiteboard was spotless, but the wastebasket hadn’t been emptied and the desk arrangement was crooked. It wasn’t exactly up to par with how you usually left the room, but you were no heathen and you noticed just how lethargic everyone was becoming.
You also needed to find a certain someone that deserved to be chewed out.
That certain someone was found in the school’s gymnasium, excitedly talking to the school volleyball team that was retiring for the night. The frustration you felt immediately melted once you saw how animated Sugawara became as you overheard his motivational tangent. His passion was infectious and easily fired up the young boys in yellow and blue jerseys listening to him.
Was this where Sugawara always disappeared off to?
It was a silly question, really. Seeing him zealously offer game strategies with the biggest grin on his face made the answer obvious. You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling awkward as all the children – and Sugawara – turned to face you. The boy you had tutored earlier today, now clad in a yellow jersey spoke first.
“Well teach, did ya know that Sugawara-sensei was a volleyball player in high school too? He was a setter, believe it or not!”
You could only stare dumbfounded as your eyes bounced back and forth between the braggadocious athlete and a proudly grinning Sugawara. The lack of response on your end began to unnerve the gray-haired man as the corners of his mouth began to twitch downwards and his eyes glossed over with doubt.
You shrugged, “I don’t really see it, honestly.”
The both of them gasped in unison. The young teen stared at you dumbstruck – his jaw would’ve hit the floor if it could, while Sugawara staggered backwards as if a spear had punctured him in the chest.
“She’s a tough cookie, Sugawara-sen–” the teen’s underhanded comment earned him a swift kick from his teacher.
“Well, I think it’s time to call it a night. How about we tidy up and retire for the evening?”
And just like that, Sugawara had roped you into another cleaning duty. Thankfully the volleyball team was still so fired up from his speech earlier that the tidying up went by remarkably fast. Eventually you and him stood alone in the building, after finally saying your goodbyes to the remaining kids.
He looked at you and cocked his head to the side, to which you nodded in response. Perhaps it was a simple unspoken agreement or maybe it was just a force of habit to head home together. Regardless, it was hard to imagine it any other way.
The cool autumn air greeted you the moment you stepped out of the gymnasium. Goosebumps pricked your skin as a crisp autumn breeze embraced you, sending a shiver down your spine. The sky had turned into a watercolor of fiery oranges and deep purples as evening drew closer. You glanced over to Sugawara, nestled in the layers of his scarf and his hands hidden in the pockets of his coat.
“Do you have regrets?”
Sugawara paused, brown and orange leaves twirled with the wind just short before his feet, but that wasn’t what stopped him. He was clearly perplexed by your question.
“Regrets?” He scrunched his nose as though the word itself repulsed him. He dug his hands deeper into the depths of his pockets and his features visibly softened as he pulled out a golden ring. It gleamed magnificently as the rays of the setting sun reflected off the band. Seeing him fit the ring snugly onto his finger prompted you to do the same, pulling out the velvet pouch that protected the ring within it. Sugawara smiled as he watched you slip the ring on, fondness etched into his features as he extended his hand towards you. You happily obliged and entangled your fingers in his.
“How could I ever have regrets with the life I have now?”
82 notes · View notes
maxrev · 3 years
Note
For the kiss prompts: "in the snow" and "life or death" if I can combine them like that? your call) for an otp of your choice.
IT IS DONE...I had no idea this would explode into such a long prompt lol. I mean, I gave it a title and even added a quote xD. Anyways, here you are :) Thanks SO much for the prompt! A bit angsty but I figured the prompt called for it! 
Under the cut because...wow...
I’d like to thank @spaced0lphin for her wonderful musical work, as it provided inspiration to write this piece and @theoriginalladya for checking it over 
When I Took to the Sky 
Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other. Leo Buscaglia
Arcing through the debris, the drop shuttle came to rest amidst the debris of a ship, snow puffing up into the air as it landed; flakes sparkling as they danced and whirled in the air before once again coming to rest on the ground. Pulling on his gloves, the pilot reached for his helmet resting on the passenger seat and tugged it on, twisting it snug with a snap. 
He took a deep, steadying breath...and stepped out onto Alchera. 
Ever since Niall had received the message from Admiral Hackett about placing a memorial here, he’d been pushing it aside. A memorial to honor those who’d laid down their lives for the Alliance. Hardly seemed enough, considering how dismissive the findings the crew of the Normandy had presented. But the fact he was employed by Cerberus now was cause for surprise in being contacted. Other questions followed though; why had the Alliance waited so long to decide on a memorial? Had he not rose from the grave like Lazarus, would they even have bothered? 
Once he’d agreed, he continued to push it aside. There were other missions to take precedence, a ragtag bunch of crew members to hunt down and recruit, and the Illusive Man to annoy - his personal favorite agenda. Anything took precedence over coming here. He simply wasn’t ready to face the part of his past which had changed everything.  There was hope coming here would heal old wounds, rather than deepen them.  
His steps were measured, faltering when he came upon a piece of the Normandy, his mind thrown back in time invoking memories he’d suppressed of a life changing event from over two years ago.
Two fecking years! 
It was a constant struggle to process the passage of time; dying and then being resurrected without any knowledge of it.  
Pausing at the mako, he was thrown into the past, scenes flashing behind his eyes…Kaidan's white knuckled grip as Niall slid the tank through snow and ice up the mountain on Noveria; Ashley yelling with uncontained glee as he'd skidded close to the edge of the lava pools on Feros; Garrus' mandibles twitching when he'd observe the mako on return to the Normandy; Kaidan's resignation upon being turned down again upon his request to drive...the near kiss they'd shared inside the cab a few hours before their last drop when their world ended.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the approach of another drop shuttle.
A sound came from behind him, out of place in the absolute stillness around him. Niall whirled, one hand reaching for his maglocked weapon, the other erupting in a blue glow. Setting eyes on the source, both hands dropped to his side in shock. 
Kaidan.
Right away, he noticed he LT had changed. They’d spent so much time together; on the ship, off the ship, on the battlefield, he’d learned the LT’s subtle mannerisms. Gone was the quiet, sensitive marine soldier with stars in his eyes, the romantic he’d claimed to be back on the SR-1. In the eyes staring back at him carefully, in the posture of the man before him, there was a confidence and maturity he’d not had before. There was also doubt. 
It's me, Niall wanted to say, to reassure. It just wasn't so simple.
He watched the play of emotions in the deep brown eyes he'd dreamed about so often. Their eyes locked and he was thrown back in time. Although for him, it was only a few months ago...not two years, when they’d been sitting in the mess on the SR-1, drinking coffee and going over their notes on the Terminus. Niall had been going on about the goose chase they'd been sent on...
“I cannae believe they sent us out to the arse end of space for nothing! Wasted two fucking weeks looking for something which isnae even here.” He slammed his fist on the table, other soldiers in the mess startled at his outburst. Niall ignored them. 
“I’m sure they just wanted us out of the way but we’ll find something, Shepard. We just have to be patient.” 
Niall snorted, “My patience ran dry about an hour inta this mission. I’ll contact those doaty bampots and tell 'em what I really think.” 
Kaidan chuckled, took a sip of his coffee before answering, “Not your best idea by a long shot.” 
Winking at him and enjoying the slight blush across the cheeks, Niall smiled, “Aye but it’ll be fun and blow off some steam.” 
In the end, nothing came of it as the ship rocked hard to port and alarms began to blare around them...
A cough brought him back to the present, watching the brown eyes change in the light, the initial confusion fading to doubt, then replaced with wariness. 
"Who are you?" The first words to be spoken aloud between them, in the same velvety rasp which had haunted Niall’s dreams.
They cut deep, hurt worse than any wound he’d endured. He straightened up, pushing the pain away and answered. 
“Who d'ya think it is? Jolly ol' St. Nick? Tis me, Kaidan. Niall.” He felt like he was stating the obvious, words coming out sharper than intended. 
Silence followed his outburst, the sound of wind wailing in the distance filling the stillness. As the quiet stretched on, Niall reflected on the situation, quickly realizing if roles were reversed, he'd be suspicious as well. Indignation sailed away like a balloon on the wind.
Ready to apologize, Kaidan spoke before Niall could ready his words, “I thought--” voice hoarse with agony, he choked on whatever he’d been about to say, unable to continue. Looking away from Niall, he composed himself, took a deep breath and despite his attempt to remain calm, blurted, “You...you were dead.” 
Biting his tongue against voicing the LT’s mighty powers of observation, Niall fought for something a wee bit more serious and relatable. Now wasnae the time for jokes. 
“Aye," the words ‘but now I’m not’ still echoing in the air between them. How could he begin to explain what he dinnae understand himself? As if he were stuck in quick sand, he felt the more he tried to climb out, the deeper he sank. 
“So, the rumors were true.” 
“Och, aye, guess they were.” 
“When?” 
The wealth of emotion in the single word struck Niall right in the heart, nearly making him stagger from the pain. He fought for an answer, disregarding one after another as they came to him. 
With a heavy sigh, he decided on the truth, “Several months ago.” The dark brows inside the black helmet furrowed downwards into a frown he was all too familiar with. Even to his own ears the response sounded lame. “I dinnae know until then. I was...uh...I doonae even know what to call it...brought back to life?” He threw his hands up in frustration. 
Disbelief followed his statement, turning quickly to suspicion. He could see the change in Kaidan's eyes through the visor. Tone flat, he echoed, “Brought back to life." At Niall’s nod of confirmation, his voice rose, "How is such a thing even possible? Who is...capable of such a thing?” 
Knowing how Kaidan felt about the organization, Niall didn't spare him the facts. He'd find out anyway. “Cerberus.” 
The climate of Alchera was cold and frigid, unfit for flora or fauna to sustain life. Even inside his armor, Naill could feel the chill in the air and had simply wanted to walk through the ruins and leave quickly. He’d never expected to find a dog tag or get lost in memories. 
And now, with his confession, the temperature seemed to drop even further; at least where the two of them stood. Kaidan stared at him for several long, agonizing seconds. He didn’t bother answering, turning around and walking away.
Niall jumped forward, his gloved hands capturing Kaidan’s stopping him, “Wait, please. Don’t go.” 
His gaze dropped down to where their hands were joined; Niall's did as well, heart skipping in his chest. “Please.” He wasn't above begging, not when it came to Kaidan. 
Pulling his hand from Niall’s, Kaidan turned away; yet, he didn’t leave. Several minutes went by; Niall held his breath. “How could you? It’s...they’re Cerberus! You know what they’ve done. The...the things we saw!” 
Fully aware of what his impassioned words implied, Niall felt his anger rise in response, “Did ya think I had a choice in this? As if I could pick and choose who would ha’ the honors of...of fixing...of rebuilding me? Fuck! I wouldnae have chosen this at all...if anyone had ever bothered to ask me first. But here I am and will damn well make the best of it, ya ken?”
Silence stretched on around them. “Are you…you?” Kaidan whispered.
How many times had he looked in the mirror wondering the exact same thing? “I doonae know, Kaidan…" He repeated in a whisper, "I doonae know."
With the admission, he could not look at Kaidan anymore, gazed around them instead. He saw a glint of something shiny; another set of dog tags perhaps. 
To fill the void, he explained, “Saw something sparkle in the sun shortly after I landed. Walked over and found a set of dog tags belonging to Pressly. As I wandered among the wreckage I found more from the crew...the ones who…” he couldn’t say it out loud, felt a hand settle on his shoulder. 
Startled, he turned to stare at it, unable to process the gesture with Kaidan’s protests from a few short minutes ago. Did he believe him now or was it all just for show? Yet, Kaidan had never been superficial. Something Niall admired about him, then and now. 
“We’ll do it together.” The words startled him even more than the touch, but he was grateful. 
“Aye. Tapadh leat.” **
Searching the pieces of the Normandy side by side. As the looked, Niall noticed the sky darkening overhead. Caught up in the past, neither of them had paid any attention. A storm was approaching; a large one. Seeing another glint of metal, Niall brushed off the snow and wrapped the chain around his gloved fingers. 
The storm had intensified and was coming at them fast and furious. There wasn’t time for them to get to their drop shuttles and leave.
He turned and tapped on Kaidan’s helmet. “We need to take cover. Now! Get inside one of the drop shuttles!” Niall took off at a dead run towards the one closest, Kaidan hot on his heels. 
Jumping inside, Niall slammed his fist against the touchpad, shutting the door just as the storm growled over them, ice chips beating a staccato against the steel hull. Wind buffeted the Kodiak, causing it to rock before sliding a few inches along the ground. Unable to radio out and with no one able to contact them, they were sitting ducks at the mercy of the storm.  
Niall reached up and took off his helmet, scrubbing his shorn, itchy scalp with gloved fingertips. 
“You...you’re...the scars?” Kaidan finally managed. 
Niall had forgotten. Not completely healed when the Lazarus project had been sabotaged, he was left with scars where his skin hadn’t had time to knit back together. Chakwas told him by remaining calm they would eventually heal and fade but with stress, they would remain...or get worse. 
Well...
He turned towards Kaidan, their eyes locking. Niall wasn’t the man he’d been the last time they’d seen each other. 
“Aye, scars. I wasnae fully healed when...well, when I was brought out of my coma.” He went to replace his helmet. 
Kaidan stopped him, hand on his arm. “No, don’t. I don’t care what you look like, Niall. I just...I was surprised.” 
He nodded. No moreso than he when he first looked in the mirror. The image staring back at him had been a great shock. That mirror had been replaced. Niall went and sat down on the bench in the back; Kaidan remained standing, neither one speaking as the storm raged on outside. It might last an hour or maybe days. 
“Look, Kaidan--”
“Niall, I--”
Both of them spoke at once. Niall gave a weak grin as Kaidan chuckled and he noticed the pink hue covering the tips of the ears. Some things hadn’t changed. He felt as if a weight had been lifted and he’d been granted a boon. 
Looking at Kaidan straight on, he began again, “I ken how it looks. I do. But, before you draw and quarter me, I dinnae now what to do, where to go. The Alliance won’t ha’ me now and I talked with Anderson and Hackett. They know what’s going on with the human abductions. The Council won’t listen.” He spat the name, no more enamored with them than in the past. “What would ya ha’ me do?” 
“Plead your case, push them. Be relentless like you were before. They have to see reason.” 
Shaking his head at Kaidan’s blind faith, he countered, “Do they? Have they ever? Have ya forgotten Sovereign? The Citadel doesnae even remember, the damage wwept away like so much garbage, forgotten and moved on.” 
The shoulders slumped. Niall studied him, drinking in the sight of a man he hadn’t realized how much he’d begun to care about. Until he was gone. Yet, here he was right in front of him. And they were arguing, Kaidan too blind to see what was so obvious. He stood up, stepping forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Kaidan looked up. 
Niall lost himself in the brown eyes, a golden amber when the light overhead caught them just right. How had he never noticed before? The laugh lines spreading out from the corners of his eyes, the freckles above his right eyebrow. So many details he’s missed. No, he’d never bothered to find. Now, he noticed them all...and more. 
Adrenaline surged in his blood, excitement unfurling within him. He remembered the scars over Kaidan’s lips, wanting to touch them, see how they felt beneath his fingertips...against his tongue. They were right there in front of him now. Overcome with a tidal wave of pent up emotions, he acted on impulse. 
Leaning forward, he captured Kaidan’s mouth with his, losing himself in the scent and taste of him, in the soft lips, his tongue tracing the scars...finally. 
Lost in a longing he had no name for, it took Niall several seconds to register there was no reciprocation. His heart twisted painfully inside his chest. So, this was it, then. He took a deep breath, ready to apologize. But, as he stepped away, he stumbled, Kaidan surging forward to initiate the kiss this time. 
The Kodiak faded away, as did the storm outside. Only the two of them existed in this perfect moment and Niall drank it up like a parched man in the desert until they both broke away, simply in order to breathe. 
** thank you, Scottish Gaelic, informal
20 notes · View notes
andsmile · 3 years
Note
why do you ship dramione?-coming from a romione shipper. like how does it add up? draco is literally so terrible.
took me a while to answer this because... well, i wanted to give you a good answer. draco and hermione are my favorite ship ever. if there’s a meaning to the word OTP, they are mine.
full disclosure, i ship ron and hermione in the canon hp universe. always have, always will. i think hermione in the books and how they were constructed as a narrative for children/teens, needed someone who would challenge her and entertain her and be a little ‘out-of-the-box’, and i think ron is perfect for that. he’s definitely a happy ending for her. 
more under the cut cause this is going to be a long discussion.
however, i started reading hp when i was really young - 11 - and eventually i found fics online, and they had “bad boy/good girl” tropes featuring sexy bad boy draco, and i wanted to read that. i was a kid, and no one’s gonna judge me, everyone went through the bad boy phase. there are a thousand books and movies about it.
but that version of draco wasn’t exactly what his character was, right? we first meet him as a kid and a bully, a little racist per se, but if there’s one thing that we learn through the years and the development of the plot, is that draco is a lot...less than that. he’s not a strong sexy bad boy, he’s a weak loser. he repeats what he’s told like a parrot. he’s a product of his environment.
and what an environment!
because, let’s face it. the wizard world is crazy prejudiced. it’s awful. we see it through harry’s eyes and we love it because he loves it and because it literally saves him from an abusive home and a sad, sad childhood, but the wizard world is actually dark and full of awful people. 90% of the characters in harry potter are highly flawed. it’s not just draco. from ~all slytherins are evil to the mudblood issue, to the goblins, centaurs, and people like ron who have such a good heart but mistreat house elves just because, you see that it’s a filthy world full of ugly stuff. it’s not just draco who’s terrible. it’s not just the slytherins. they all are. james was a bully, snape sucked, everyone is grey. everyone has light and dark inside them, even dumbledore. it’s what makes hp such a great story, how complex the characters are. ron’s character (who is MY FAVORITE i swear) deals with his own darkness, and bitterness, and fears. but ron is someone harry (the narrator) loves so much so we love him too (most of us), and we witness ron’s redemption through harry’s eyes, and we forgive him. draco doesn’t get that chance.
if you read harry potter you see the building of a world and a belief - that love, friendship and good will prevail, and that all magic blood is the same. that’s on harry’s point of view. harry, who didn’t really suffer with any of those big prejudices in the magical world because he was, after all, harry potter. a kid who grew up thinking he wasn’t shit but was actually the chosen one, the savior of this world that he loved so much. 
imagine reading that book through hermione’s eyes, though: the building of a very incredible world that you love but where you have to prove yourself at every step of the way because so many people in that world think you ain’t shit. in fact, there’s a lot of focus on draco’s prejudice because he’s the first one we see using the word mudblood and he’s the first one to tell hermione she’s worth nada in ~his world when everyone else was always praising her.
imagine reading that book through draco’s eyes: the deconstruction of this world that you believed in so bad, that you thought was the greatest thing ever. you were told you were the greatest, that your family worked for the greatest wizard ever, and then, little by little, you find out that all your beliefs were stupid and everything you’ve always known was a lie, and that the lord you praised was actually a murderous monster and that you weren’t special. you weren’t shit. and the very object of your childish hate is so much better than you.
so why do i ship draco and hermione?
because they are, in my eyes, the two most complex characters in opposite ends. she’s the reason why the world he’s so used to is falling apart, she breaks his prejudices. she’s the reason why he ain’t shit. and he’s the embodiment of all the things she wants to prove wrong, and she’s so much stronger than him. she could teach him so much, she could teach him how to see the world through different eyes, through her eyes.
as for hermione, she’s always seen more in draco than harry or ron. she’s always seen a little bit past the bully even though she was often the object of his vile ways. he’s always affected her in a way that was very blatant, and i think that with her personality and tendencies, watching him change would be a way to change herself. she could become even more confident and self-aware, she could find a different meaning for love. he could teach her so much about the world she wants to be a part of, things she might never understand without someone like him.
the very meaning behind harry potter, that love should be bigger and better than hate, is what a relationship between draco and hermione could encompass, if written the right way. 
however, draco and hermione couldn’t work in a book written in someone else’s point of view. they’re not a canon hp romance, they can’t be, and it would’ve been a disservice to try and cramm a love story for them in the hp books. it can’t be treated as a fun hookup or something like that. dramione is a ship that would require patience, so many levels of redemption in his part, so many levels of forgiveness and growing up in her part. of course, if you’re in fanon and you’re already going past all of this, you can read a one shot and think ‘oh such fun dynamics’ but if you want to be convinced of dramione, you have to go for the big works that will give you a full analysis on their characters and place them together carefully. it’s not just the typical bad boy/good girl thing we all thought they could be.
the complexity of how to turn hate into love attracts me.
all the ways you can make them fall for each other and have them grow with each other attracts me.
i think hermione’s character needs and would thrive on challenge, because that’s what she’s made of. ron is a perfectly good pairing for her but imagine if she could have something even harder and more puzzling.
i think draco’s character is the weakest link and i love to see how people come up with redemption stories for him not at the expense of hermione’s character.
the dramione fandom is incredibly talented and some of the best writer’s i’ve seen in my life.
maybe they aren’t the healthiest. some versions of them are actually pretty toxic. but i think that both characters could stand being in a relationship like it if written the right way. the nuances of their ship are amazing, you just have to open your mind and think outside of the canon box.
11 year old me did that, and i’m glad, because i’m never going back.
7 notes · View notes
steviatea · 3 years
Note
hey, if you’re still taking requests i’d love to read anything kim/lydia!!!! can’t get the two of them out of my head
Oh my god, you have no idea how much I smiled when I received this! Kim/Lydia is honestly my OTP, rare as the pairing is. :’) I’ve written some soft hurt/comfort stuff for you! Thank you for the request!
Here’s the AO3 link if you’d prefer to read there~ 💕
There are numerous things that Kim notices about Lydia in their time together, such as the way that Lydia stirs her stevia into her tea, or the fact that she’ll occasionally wear mismatched shoes, or even how she idly takes Kim’s hand into her own when they’re sitting beside each other, playing with Kim’s fingers for a change instead of anxiously fidgeting with her own.
Kim learns that Lydia never drinks coffee, only tea, and when told that tea isn’t available at a restaurant, she tends to behave as if she’s been personally insulted. Kim likes to hold her hand in these times, a little bit of comfort, and she can tell that Lydia appreciates it by the way that the stress upon her face softens to grateful appreciation.
She notices that Lydia loves to wear the same shades of blue that Kim does, and that she’s an avid enthusiast when it comes to talking about the routes trains move in, and the transportation and shipments she manages at Madrigal Electromotive. Kim particularly enjoys the way Lydia smiles when she rambles about things that Kim has next to no knowledge on, nevertheless appreciating how cute it is when she gets enthusiastic.
Kim additionally observes that Lydia is a dedicated mother, and that she adores her daughter Kiira with every bit of her heart. It’s endearing to watch the two together, and even more heartwarming when Kim herself gets to join in on their family activities. Movie nights with animated movies. Finding Nemo is Kiira’s favorite, and Kim’s already seen it several times through spending time with Lydia and her daughter. It’s even more heartwarming to Kim on a personal level whenever Kim comes over to Lydia’s house and Kiira herself is excited to see her.
She’s come to learn little details about her relationship with Lydia through talks with her daughter. It’s adorable to hear validating little things from the perspective of a child: “Mommy always smiles when she talks about you.”
Then, there are the little things that Lydia does — little behaviors that don’t directly impact her relationship at all, but things that Kim finds endearing to watch, like the way that Lydia plays with things with her hands when not picking at her nails or fidgeting nervously. The way she plays with stevia packets, the way she brings those little packages to restaurants whenever they go on dates. Kim isn’t a fan of the sweetener herself; she’s full-on happy with sugar alone, but she supports her girlfriend and her passion for the alternative sweetener.
It’s the little things about Lydia that Kim has come to adore.
She also discovers that Lydia cries like she’s practiced in the art of hiding it from others — this is something that Kim notices when she awakens one night, pulled from her dreams by the sound of weeping so quiet that Kim might have otherwise slept through it, had she not been a light enough sleeper. It’s a sorrowfully soft sound, hushed and suppressed as crying could grt, but easy enough to hear in the stillness of the night within Lydia’s otherwise quiet bedroom. Hearing her in such a state is deeply troubling to Kim; she’s certain she’s never heard her girlfriend cry before.
Sharing the bed with Lydia, Kim naturally has to do something — she can’t simply go without taking action. Lydia’s facing away from Kim, laying on her side and likely unaware that Kim isn’t any longer sleeping. Reaching over, Kim’s fingers gently brush over the younger woman’s shoulder, her voice a groggy murmur when she speaks. “Hey, is everything okay?”
Even the lightest of touches causes Lydia to startle, flinching upon being touched. She quickly turns over, the widened whites of her eyes visible enough in the darkness to show the clearly startled expression upon her face. She breathes quickly, on the verge of a panic attack, but recognition sets in shortly thereafter. “Oh, god — Kim?” Her words are strained, nose stuffy from crying.
“Yeah, it’s just me,” Kim reassures her, sleepily resting her hand upon Lydia’s arm. Certainly, she hadn’t meant to scare nor startle her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Lydia takes a shaky breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffling. “It’s… it’s okay,” she manages to stammer out in response, though her rapid breathing suggests otherwise. “I just didn’t expect you to wake up,” she adds, lowered to a hoarse whisper, her words carrying a desolate sound about them when she speaks between unsteady breaths. 
“Let me get you a tissue,” Kim tells her in a gentle, albeit somewhat groggy tone as she reaches over to Lydia’s night-stand, feeling around for a tissue box she knows is there before successfully grabbing one.
Lydia accepts the tissue with a murmured, “Thank you.” The noise that she makes when blowing her nose directly contrasts the uptight yet graceful attitude she’d keep about herself during the day. She’s the opposite of fancy, in the state she’s in now; hair rustled and no longer meticulously straightened or pulled-back in a tight bun. There’s something that Kim finds adorable about her in the middle of the night, though, in pajamas and comfortable clothes. Setting the tissue aside, Lydia adds, “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“No, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s totally fine,” Kim says, and though it’s hard to keep the sleepiness from her voice and overall disposition, she still instinctively fusses over Lydia, Kim rubs her hand along the other woman’s arm in what she can only hope is a soothing, comforting manner. “I can always sleep more later, I’m just worried about you. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, really,” Lydia croaks in a weak little voice, immediately dodging the subject. She’s wordless for the next few passing moments, sniffling and shuddering enough that Kim could feel the vibrations in the bed springs below them. Kim could guess that Lydia’s not accustomed to talking in-depth about her feelings like this — in fact, she seems almost afraid to do so at the moment.
“Are you sure?” Kim’s mind, though a little slow to start due to just having woken up, is already heading toward self-doubt and insecurity of her own. Her and Lydia haven’t had any major arguments yet in their relationship, but it’s an unfortunate response to her own personal past trauma that she internally runs through all of the self-doubt: She’s upset because of me. I did something wrong.
So, Kim decides to ask quite drowsily, “Did I say something wrong earlier, do something to upset you?” She can’t even remember what conversations they’d had before bed, but she nevertheless wants to know if she’s done something wrong so she can correct her own errors. “I don’t mean to make this about me, or anything, but if I did do something wrong—“
“No,” Lydia is quick to interrupt her, but then she elaborates more carefully afterwards, adding, “Of course not, Kim. I swear, that’s not it. You… you haven’t done anything wrong at all. It’s not you, by any means.” Her response sounds like an honest attempt to sound reassuring, but the way her voice cracks as she gets the words out is just heartbreaking. “No, it’s just… it’s just nightmares.”
Kim can feel a sympathetic stirring within her chest, an empathetic ache for her lover’s sorrow and pain, though she does not know what has brought up such vulnerable emotions. “Come here,” Kim murmurs, rolling onto her back and patting the bed immediately beside her. “Let me hold you.”
Kim welcomes Lydia with open arms when she sidles up to her, vulnerable as ever. She can feel Lydia’s body shaking as softly weeps, her breathing noticeably erratic as it would be during panic. Of course, Kim holds her close without any hesitation, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and idly running her fingers through her long, silky hair. It’s times like this that she wishes she had the words to say more comforting things, but that’s where things like touch come in handy, perhaps. It’s moments before Kim speaks to her again, and she does so in a way that’s compassionate, doting even — her words are chosen carefully, a deliberate expression of love in the caring tone she uses.
“What was the nightmare about? You can talk to me about it, if you want to.”
There’s hesitation before Lydia responds, and she looks up to Kim with apprehension in her eyes, like she fears judgment over talking about her nightmare. “I was a young girl again, and I was back in the group home I grew up in. It’s like I was trapped. The girls I roomed with were attacking me for… I don’t even know what, but they hated me and wanted me dead,” Lydia murmurs with tears in her eyes. Leaning the weight of her petit form against Kim, she lets out a quivering sigh, continuing, “I know that probably sounds stupid. I… I don’t tend to talk to people about these sorts of things. Not ever.”
Eyebrows furrowing, Kim’s quick to shake her head, tenderly running her fingers through Lydia’s hair. “Hey, that’s not stupid at all. I mean, I can’t even imagine how shitty that must’ve been for you.”
Lydia sighs, her hands idly playing with the fabric of Kim’s pajama shirt; it’s an old shirt left over from college that’s been worn so many times that it’s ideal for sleeping in. It seems that Lydia quite likes the texture of the shirt as well, bunching the end of the shirt up in her small fist while she continues. “God, it was the worst place I’ve ever been, to this day. The staff was so strict, and all of the girls there were so cruel. I never made a single friend in that place — not permanently, at least. Everyone I got along with eventually got foster homes. I never did. I don’t know why, but I just wasn’t desirable enough to be a foster kid.”
“I’m so sorry. That must’ve been horrible, growing up in a place like that.” There had been a few times where Kim’s mother had skirted dangerously close to losing custody of Kim, being drunk as she’d been — she’d never ended up in the system, though. She never experienced anything like what Lydia’s been through, and even without hearing the details Kim is able to surmise that it was traumatic for Lydia. “Did you spend your whole childhood there?”
“Essentially” Lydia replies softly, her breathing somewhat stable now that she’s gotten into the rhythm of conversation. She’s still quite apprehensive, though, and it’s evident when she speaks. adding, “I was a smart kid. I don’t mean to brag, of course, but I was able to finish high school early and get a scholarship, and I left when I was seventeen. I never turned back.”
Kim leans in closer, placing a tender kiss upon Lydia’s forehead. “I’m glad you’re out of there now,” she says. “
“Thank you. I know it’s been years since I was in that situation, but I guess my subconscious just loves reminding me of how horrible my childhood was,” Lydia replies, sniffling and shuddering. She clings to Kim tightly, as if she’s afraid her lover might disappear if she were to let go. “I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I feel like such an asshole.”
“You certainly aren’t an asshole,” Kim reassures her.
Lydia adjusts her position in bed, shifting so that she’s face-to-face with Kim. She kisses her with soft lips, affectionately short and sweet. “I’m so glad you’re here right now. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she says, and being so close to one another, Kim can feel Lydia’s body beginning to relax somewhat when she continues to speak. “Thank you for spending the night with me.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” Kim tells her, and she means it.
8 notes · View notes
Text
intensely beautiful
IT’S KILLUGON DAYYYYYYYYYYY :D and who would I be if I didn’t have a fic to post on the day of my best and most wonderful otp~?
I actually wrote this like two months ago lol. It was inspired by this lovely killugon kiss by @cazzart over on her twitter! It’s a college au ^-^ Pls enjoy!
(title is inspired by the word ceraunophilia which is defined as a deep love of thunder and lightning. It also connotes the idea of finding both intensely beautiful)
-o0o-
Gon had never seen snow before. 
Not this much, at least, and it had never snowed for this long. He watched with quiet awe as layers upon layers of snow fell from the sky, coating the campus in a light coating of powdery white. It had never really been cold enough to snow back at his hometown in Whale Island. The first and last time it happened was when he was only three, wide eyed and enchanted at witnessing something he’d only seen in books or movies.
“It’s snow,” Aunt Mito had told him kindly, standing beside him as he gazed out the window early that morning. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?”
It had been pretty, in a surreal way. Gon had been fascinated with how the snowflakes melted in his palm but stuck hard to the stone walkway leading to their small hut. He’d even tried to keep some, carrying a handful of snow inside only to cry when it started melting. 
And that was the problem with Whale Island and snow. It couldn’t last. By the next day the blinding sun has returned, bringing with it the heat and humidity that was much more familiar to Gon than the cold and grey skies. Within hours, all the snow had gone.
But it was different here. 
“It’s really coming down hard, huh?” Killua asked and Gon glanced up at him. Killua’s nose was scrunched up, a light dusting of pink spread across the sharp angles his cheeks and the tips of ears. He had complained and whined when Gon had first asked him if he wanted to go outside—Killua had never exactly liked the cold, exactly. 
But Gon had asked him anyway, because even if the snow meant it was cold outside, it was still beautiful. And if Gon was going to experience something amazing, he wanted to do it with his best friend at his side. 
“Hmm,” Gon hummed, holding on tighter to Killua’s arm and resting his head on Killua’s shoulder. His head was jostled slightly with every step, but he didn’t let it bother him. “Yeah, it is. But I like it.”
Killua scoffed. “You would like it. Everything is gross and wet and slippery…” He frowned down at Gon. “Have you ever even seen snow before?”
“A while ago. It snowed once back on Whale Island when I was really little.”
Killua quirked an eyebrow. “Really? I would’ve thought it was too hot for that. Whale Island is way further south than here, right?”
“Yeah, well, it only happened once.” 
Gon let his gaze wander from Killua’s pale face to the snow covered grounds. Hunter College looked nearly unrecognizable after the gift from Mother Nature. Silvery white had hidden the dead grass, the bare branches of the trees were decorated with puffs of white that almost looked like clouds. It was even devoid of the students that usually mulled across the lawn between classes, with no one in sight but him and Killua.
Most of the other students had gone home for winter break. But Killua didn’t want that—he didn’t like his family’s empty mansion, or equally empty family members. There was a history there, a reason why Killua had chosen to attend college so far away from everything he had ever known. Gon had never pushed him on it—Killua was Killua, no matter what shadows lurked in his past—and he wasn’t about to now. 
So when Killua has told him he planned on staying for the month-long break, Gon had stubbornly decided to stay, too. Killua didn’t deserve to be alone for so long, and besides, Gon didn’t want to leave Killua alone. 
It didn’t matter how tempting the memory of Aunt Mito’s warm pies or his familiar bed. If Killua was here, that’s where Gon wanted to be.
“Did it ever snow back at your house?” Gon asked curiously, still staring at the blinding whiteness around them. 
He didn’t have to look up to hear the scowl in Killua’s answer. “Ugh, yeah. It snowed a little too much for my liking.”
Gon laughed quietly and squeezed Killua’s arm. “You really, really don’t like the cold, huh?”
“Gee, I wonder what gave you that idea?”
Gon grinned. “I dunno, it’s just a feeling I had.”
Killua snorted and Gon’s grin grew even wider. “You’re so stupid,” Killua said, but the insult had no bite. His tone was warm, so full of soft fondness, that Gon had to look up. Even Killua’s eyes—bright as the sky or a bluejay’s wing, deep as a sapphire or the ocean, blue as Gon’s favorite color—grew tender as they gazed back at Gon.
Gon’s heart squeezed. Killua’s eyes were one of Gon’s favorite things about him, and there were lots of things that Gon liked about Killua. But today his eyes looked especially pretty against the dull grey backdrop of the sky and the empty whiteness surrounding them.
“You didn’t have to come out here, you know,” Gon said softly. The snow crunched under their boots with every step, creating a strange but steady thump-ing sound. “You don’t like the cold but you came out here anyway.”
You came out here for me, he added silently as he watched Killua squirm under his gaze. 
“Yeah, well…” Killua huffed, his breath fogging up into a cloud. “Don’t let it get to your head, okay. I know what you’re thinking and if I get sick, I’m blaming you.”
“You won’t get sick from being cold, Killua. That’s just silly.”
“You would be surprised how many times I’ve gotten sick from just ‘being cold’, Gon. And who are you to know, anyway? You’re not a science major!”
Gon laughed again and the sound was boisterous enough to echo across the clearing and bounce off the nearby trees. It shattered the peaceful silence created by the snow and gon heard Killua grumble something about being too loud, but he couldn’t help himself. Killua made him laugh so easily, almost as easily as breathing.
“M-Maybe not,” Gon admitted, still giggling. “But if you do—do get sick, I promise nurse you back to health and everything!”
“You better,” Killua grumbled as his cheeks pinkened. “This is all your fault.”
“You said that already, Ki-llu-a.”
“That d-doesn’t make it not t-true!”
Killua shivered violently, teeth chattering. Gon frowned and rubbed his arm. It wasn’t enough to warm Killua up much—the heavy winter jacket and hat atop his head should already be doing that—but Gon hoped the action was comforting to his best fried all the same. 
“Do you really want to go back?” he asked, concerned. He’d wanted to see the snow, to breathe in the fresh air and feel the snowflakes melting on his cheeks. Despite all their teasing, he didn’t really want Killua freeze badly enough to get sick. He just wanted to share this special moment with the most special person he knew.
To his surprise, Killua shook his head. “N-No...I’m just not used to it. I usually try to stay inside when it’s snowing like this.”
Gon slowed down, a suggestive but very fun idea hitting him. “Maybe you just need to warm up a little?” he asked slyly. 
Killua slowed to match his pace, giving Gon a suspicious look. Gon didn’t blame him—Killua knew him extremely well after four years of being best friend college buddies and two years of being...well, of being more. Killua knew him better than Gon himself some days. And he definitely knew that tone of Gon’s meant trouble.
“What are you saying?” Killua asked with narrowed blue eyes. Gon hummed thoughtfully before releasing Killua’s arm. He twisted around swiftly to plant himself in front of Killua’s path, forcing the Zoldyck to stop in his tracks.
“I’m saying...you need something to warm you up,” Gon said simply and Killua’s eyes light up.
“Oh, yeah?” Killua shoved his hands into his pockets, looking amused. “And you think you have that something?”
“I might,” Gon admits casually. “But I dunno if you’ll like my idea…”
“Why don’t you try me, and I’ll let you know?”
“Hmm. Well, it might involve me getting in your personal space.”
“Might?” Killua echoed. He was giving Gon all of his attention now, all one-hundred percent of that intense blue gaze was locked onto Gon’s face, and a shiver raced down Gon’s spine—a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. “When have you ever respected personal space before?”
Gon grinned. “You never seemed to mind it,” he whispered as he leaned in ever so slowly. He could see his reflection in Killua’s eyes, the way his pupils grew large and his breath stuttered as Gon grew near.
“Hard to mind something you get used to,” Killua whispered back and Gon’s toes curled in his boots. 
“You saying I grew on you?” he asked quietly. He let his hands drift forward to carefully graze Killua’s gloved fingers. Killua bit his lip at the contact—a sight that caused a thrill of satisfaction to rush through Gon. It wasn’t hard to see the struggle in Killua’s face, how he was forcing himself not to grab Gon’s hand and tangle their fingers together as they had so many times before.
“Yeah,” Killua breathed. “You did. Like a wart.”
The answer was so unexpected—so, so Killua—that Gon threw his head back and laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed until he was gasping for air, eyes watering and cheeks aching from being stretched too far. 
“Ki-Killua,” he wheezed. “You’re—You’re funny.”
Killua rolled his eyes. “I’m not funny. You’re just stupid.”
Gon snickered, not at all minding the insult. Killua’s insults were more like terms of endearment when applied to Gon. He never really meant them.
“You like me anyway,” he reminded Killua in a teasing tone, finally taking Killua’s hands in his and squeezing them. Killua flushed darkly, a pretty blush that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold coloring his normally pale features.
“I unfortunately do,” he muttered and Gon’s heart fluttered. Killua looked so cute just then, pouting with pink cheeks and looking anywhere but at the person of his affection.
“No need to look so embarrassed, Ki-llu-a,” Gon said with a bright grin. “I like you, too.”
Killua down bit his lip. “You do?”
“You know I do.”
“...you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
Gon’s smile widened. “Maybe just a little. But I can’t help it! You look so cute when you get all flustered.”
Killua opened his mouth, looking like he was about to argue, and that’s when Gon moved. He rushed forward and pressed his lips to Killua’s, still smiling as their mouths touched. 
For a moment, Killua didn’t move. He stayed stiff as wood against Gon—out of surprise more than anything, Gon was sure—but then he melted into Gon’s embrace, leaning against the shorter student as he kissed Gon soundly back. 
Killua’s lips were warm, Gon noted. They were warm and soft and tasted faintly of the hot chocolate Gon had made for him just hours earlier. They were familiar and good and Gon hummed happily before tilting his head to get an even deeper kiss. Killua responded by winding his arms around Gon’s middle, squeezing his waist hard enough as if he could keep Gon here in this moment with just his strength alone. 
Which, he really didn’t need to do. Because Gon wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world than here with Killua, sharing this moment with him as the snowflakes collected on their shoulders and in their hair.
Gon didn’t know how or why, but everything felt right when he was with Killua. Killua had a way of making the world brighter, his problems lighter, his challenges easier. Even when the world was already so beautiful with the snow falling from the sky and the icicles decorating the trees, nothing could ever really compare to the beauty that was Killua.
Gon pulled back and Killua’s eyelashes fluttered. Hazy blue eyes gazed back at him and something hot twisted in Gon’s gut.
“Feeling warmer?” Gon asked, voice hoarse, and Killua sucked in a shuddering breath.
“A little,” he said, cheeks stained red. “But I don’t think I’m entirely warmed up yet.”
Gon tilted his head as he tried to hold back the smile fighting its way onto his face. “Really?”
Killua nodded. “Really.”
Gon grinned. He threw his arms around Killua’s shoulders and pulled Killua in for another kiss, this time holding Killua to him as his boyfriend once more melted into his embrace.
53 notes · View notes
porchwood · 5 years
Note
Hi just so I understand cause i keep waiting for it and it doesnt seem likely to happen have you kind of fallen out of love with wtm? and everlark in general tbh? cause ive been following you for a while now and you always had lil quotes and pictures and things that reminded you inspired you whatever it was about katniss and wtm and now alllll it is is gadge i followed you because personally i love what you did with everlark and im just wondering if thats gone and not foreseeable any time soon?
I’ve been thinking a lot about how to answer this… It’s afair question - to a point. If you’re more of a drop-in person (like me) thanlive-on-the-dash, coming back to find my blog awash in Gadge might have beenquite upsetting. There are several reasons for the current state of things:
1. Life has been driving me into the ground since December26, 2013. (Yes, going on six straight years.) If you were a WtM reader from thebeginning, you may recall that I was pretty energetic and prolific in 2012-2013.Oh, there were tough times, but nothing like what started on the aforementioneddate (a car accident where I was in the “bystander” vehicle and it still got totaled)and has continued relentlessly ever since. Sometimes adversity leads to greatcreativity and sometimes it turns you into a depressed, exhausted, reclusivelump, and the past 5+ years have seen periods of both from me. These past 18months have been exceptionally awful (and expensive), resulting in very littlewriting at all, about any pairing.
2. Writing WtM takes a lot out of me. I don’t know whether thisis common knowledge or not, but it’s the gospel truth. I love that world, Ilove that version of Everlark, but every chapter requires so much hard work, itmakes me tired just to think of it. Not to mention, over the past couple of chaptersEverlark have been pushing for more intimacy than the plot/timeline allows, andso I’ve been struggling with how I want to handle that. Do I fight them andstick to the plan? (I can’t advance the timeline for several reasons.) Do I tryto figure out a cheat for them? They’ve got minds of their own and have changedmy plans multiple times, but this is something they genuinely can’t have, and Ihave to fight them on it. ☹ Which is sad, frustrating, and exhausting.
3. I’m a multi-pairing shipper, and have been from about 3chapters into WtM. Which means that my Everlark fics almost always feature asecondary pairing (or more than one), and sometimes I’ll get a plot bunny for afic about a pairing other than Everlark. Most writers in the THG fandom exclusivelywrite their OTP, whatever the plot bunny, but I find that some plot bunnies don’tfit Everlark as well as they do another pairing. (This is why I’ll never write aBeauty and the Beast Everlark fic unless Katniss is the “Beast,” if you will.)
4. The Everlark fandom is…tricky. I’ve never fit in there. Idon’t write Everlark the way the majority of fans see them (except for Peetabeing “sweet,” I guess), I hated the movies (I refuse to see MJ 1 or 2), and I’vemanaged to really rub some people the wrong way over the years –unintentionally, and for a variety of reasons – all of which leaves me feeling kinda down about Everlark in general. Don’t misunderstand me: I love Everlarkand WtM, but it’s really isolating to be this sad little island of unpopularopinions and unwelcome side-ships. That’s the part I really wish I could makeyou understand. For six years I’ve had Christopher Plummer in my head saying, “You’llnever be one of them,” and he’s so, cruelly, right. I want to cry every time Ithink of Embracing the Season (my E-rated Everlark modern AU oneshot for Lovein Panem - lots of daring for me!) because I poured heart and soul into that andit still wasn’t the Everlark that people wanted.
5. About a year and a half ago (when Strawberry Time reallytook off of its own accord) I participated in Gadge Day 2017, working my buttoff to find and schedule (and tag) over 100 carefully chosen Gale/Madge/Gadge aestheticposts, and for lack of a better way to say it: it turned on my Gadge-dar. After that, thosekinds of posts just leapt out at me whenever I had a chance to scroll, and forseveral months I wasn’t sure what to do with that. With a little encouragementfrom @ghtlovesthg, I came up with #march madgeness – wherein I turned my Tumblrinto Madge/Gadge-land for one month, and it was a blast. (Side-stepping Gadgefor a moment: Madge is a highly underappreciated and underused character,especially in fic/on Tumblr and I love splashing the dash with Madge-love.) Thenext month I launched a run of pent-up Everlark posts (i.e., regularprogramming), but I missed my Madge, so I instituted #madge monday – one day aweek when I could splash the dash with Madge/Gadge. At every juncture I gavepeople tags to block if they didn’t want to see this content (though I stillget unfollows every time I post, alas). I participated in last summer’s THG Reread– on the fringe of it, but my posts (reblogs and meta) were strongly Everlark-focusedagain during that time. So there’s definitely still been Everlark on my blog,but if you’re just dropping in (or for that matter, glancing at my archive), you’regoing to see a majority of Madge/Gadge.
6. Frankly, Gadge is fun. It’s a completely different dynamicthan Everlark, with less pressure to create something transcendent, and whenthe chips are down, I’m more likely to work on something that isn’t my six-years-runningopus. This spring, in the midst of lots of awfulness, I finally wrote a piecethat I’ve had in my head for years – The Best Part of Waking Up – with a differentpairing featured in each drabble “chapter,” including Gadge, Luka/Johanna (whoI’ve been wanting to put out there for AGES) and Jack/Raisa. I haven’t beenable to write quickly in years, and I think I finished those three “chapters”in about two days, maybe three. I completed the Raisa drabble in a couple ofhours and I consider it one of the best things I’ve ever written. (Honestly, ifa pairing was going to topple Everlark in my heart, it would be Jack/Raisa, i.e.,Mr. Everdeen/Mrs. Mellark. I love them to distraction.) Once upon a time I could drabble/sprint Everlark too – notoften, but I could manage it. Maybe it’ll happen again someday, but for thetime being, when I write in quick eager bursts, it’s usually about aside-pairing.
7. Because I just need to say it: about a year ago, I set up a secondary Tumblr for almost all my side-interests and ships outside of THG. When I first joined Tumblr, porchwood was just a fun page where I posted whatever struck my fancy (pretty things, funny things, whatever I liked), and over the next few years, I honed it into a pretty “writer’s notebook” for WtM and my other THG fics (related quotes, aesthetic posts, writing check-ins, etc.). When Star Wars: The Force Awakens came out, I shared a handful of posts pertaining to a new ship (not a new direction for my blog or writing, just sharing my excitement) and it was made very clear to me that people didn’t want to see that content on my page. So when I started watching Voltron: Legendary Defender, I had a sneaking suspicion people wouldn’t want to hear about those ships either. So I started an entirely new Tumblr for that content, and every so often I accidentally post something to the wrong page, which I immediately correct in horror, but people still unfollow. Point being: this blog is THG (and a few personal life updates) ONLY, with a pretty consistent aesthetic. I hide literally everything else that I’m interested in so you don’t have to be bothered by it. Is it really so unacceptable for me to have side-ships (complementary to the main pairing, not threatening to them) in the same universe??
8. Believe it or not, I’ve been working on WtM all along,just not making any massive strides. I tried to chip away at the current chapterduring Camp Nanowrimo last July, and it was a disaster. I thought joining awriting group would be helpful, but I didn’t realize that Camp Nano is basicallya lot of writing sprints in which you try to churn out as many words aspossible, which you then report to your “cabin” – and that’s the onlyinteraction with your fellow writers. I can’t write like that anymore (seeabove) and especially not when it comes to WtM, so I got discouraged veryquickly and sort of drifted away. I reattempted Nano on my own in April and wrotealmost 15K words, but in that instance I was really just using the Nano platform toset and reach a goal (which I didn’t ☹ ); I wasn’t in a cabin and didn’t interact with anyother writers, except my friend @ghtlovesthg, who read the finished portion.
9. I want to finish this dang chapter so much, and frankly, theonly way that’s going to happen is if life gets a little better and I holemyself up with my laptop for hours on end for weeks at a time – and somemagical being comes to support/cheer/comfort me while I do so. It’s currentlysitting at about 25K and I anticipate it will need to be at least double that,which is beyond ridiculous, but that’s the nature of WtM. The chapters are asmany words as it takes.
TL, DR: I still love Everlark and I’m still working on WtM, but my life has been extremely difficult for a very long time and I don’t have a great Everlark lifeline. Gadge and all my other ships are fun, and most of the Gadge you see on my Tumblr is aesthetic stuff for themed days/months/occasions. Anything non-THG goes on my sideblog.
57 notes · View notes
aurltas · 5 years
Text
here, then, begins the mending
tags: Jasmine/Lief (Deltora Quest), lots of good ol communication and reassurance hahaha, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, but trust me less hurt more comfort !!, ugh i love them THE OG OTP!!!!, Fluff 
summary: Perhaps some things are better done than said; others, in turn, are better said than done. Together, they learn to speak through both. 
IT’S HERE!! the fic i spent 2 years working on!! ..............and then it only turned out to be around 5k l m a o
in other words, jaslief FINALLY talks it out! aka the jaslief confession i’ve been dying for my entire life, enjoy my screaming! AKA aka several thousand words of Them Being R e a l Awkward because you BET they gonna drag this thing on as long as possible..... buckle up! it’s essentially a 5k mini slow burn bc They Communicate!! A Lot!! Albeit Very Awkwardly!! you’re all so welcome
(also available here on ao3 if that butters ur eggroll more)
The gardens are a temporary escape from the stifling regalities of the palace, and that is precisely what makes Lief worry.
He did keep his promise: so many wings and spires of the Del palace had been left in horrific neglect over the years of the Shadow Lord’s tyranny, and now they are reborn from the soil as a dazzling array of flora and fauna. It is a breath of the neighboring woods into the city, a long-overdue nod towards the Forests that stand so silent in their shared territory. If he is to be honest, Lief himself is quite proud of it.
But —
Jasmine should be here, he thinks anxiously as he gently pushes the garden gate open. She would.
Carefully, Lief shuts the gate behind himself before turning to the dew-green garden: itself huge, yet tiny. A vast beginning, plants only starting to push their way up towards the skies; an orderly chaos of buds and shoots. Truly the spirit of the newly revived land.
The one exception is the tiny neat grove of gnarled underground-grown trees. Gifts from the Raladin, these twisted lovely things are Lief’s personal favorites — testaments to the darkness they have all endured, yet striving for the sunlight still, and thriving in spite of it all. A mirror in more ways than one. The grove suggests escape more than any other area in the garden, tucked away at the farthest edge from the palace with breathtaking views of the Del and the Forests alike. And the trees themselves — Lief found it so easy to stroll beneath their writhing, steady branches whenever he needed an escape from the mundanities of rulership, because they understood him, wordlessly and without question, in a way no human could.
Well, save for...
Lief pauses beneath the grove’s edge and looks up, squinting against the brightness of the late afternoon sun.
“Jasmine?” he calls out.
“I am here,” comes her faint answer, from somewhere above. As he had expected. Leaves rustle from that same direction, as though to emphasize her words; it is more than likely that Filli, or Kree, or both, are among the leaves as well.
Lief smiles despite himself.
He cranes his neck, straining to catch a glimpse of a shadow perched among the greenery. The moment he does, Lief walks over to the chosen tree and presses his palm to the roiling bark, smiling again at the memories it brings: the steadiness of his companions beside him, the openness of the roads and skies. A chapter in the past, painted for once in shades of green-dappled gold.
Lief reaches up with that hand and begins scaling the tree slowly.
“So hindered by a common tree, King Lief?” Jasmine laughs, closer now. He finally reaches her perch and grins wryly in reply, settling himself between her spot on the branch and the trunk, relishing the free swing of his legs. “I merely value my life, O most revered master of tree-climbing,” he says, grinning, drawing his cloak closer against a wind previously unfelt from the ground. The sky seems to glow from here, he notices distantly. “Are you to tell me that I should throw my hard-earned breath away? After all those long, perilous journeys — through dangers so much worse than those offered by a mere garden tree?”
Jasmine laughs again and hits his arm, not lightly. “No, what I am telling you, O most revered king of our land, is that even after all my remarkably thorough instruction in the art of tree climbing you are still about as skilled as the Wennbar at it!”
Though he laughs just as heartily as Jasmine does at this, the quip makes him remember: that the Forests are Jasmine’s home first and foremost, have been and always will be.
(And the palace decidedly is not.)
The smile slips from his face, and he also remembers: there was a reason he had come, and sought out Jasmine.
And again I am hoping against hope, Lief thinks wearily. As ever.
“Lief?” Jasmine asks, caution treading her voice. He meets her eyes, and instantly his heart aches to see the unmasked concern there. “Is there something on your mind?”
How well we see through each other, he thinks, half bitterness, half warmth. How well we understand one another.
“There is,” Lief says quietly. He looks back towards the palace towers. “And it is something... that I must speak to you about, and you alone.”
Jasmine is watching him closely, and the weight of her anxious scrutiny is enough to make him want to escape the gardens and retreat into the tower he is so fixated upon. He tries to breathe, to calm his traitor heart.
She waits. Then, “Well?”
“I wanted to ask you about the Forests. And this garden, and the palace,” Lief says in a rush, desperately avoiding her gaze. “Is this— Is this enough? Is life in the palace enough for you, Jasmine? Tell me the truth. Please.”
He almost says, Is life in this prison, somehow enough? If it is with me?
“Enough?” she repeats, bewildered. “‘Enough,’ Lief? What do you mean by that?”
“Compared to the Forests,” he says faintly, and for the first time fear enters his voice in a clamoring haze. “Is this, being in the palace and the garden and surrounded by the trivialities of royal affairs... Is this place, Del— Does this life give you enough freedom? As the Forests clearly do?”
Jasmine stares at him, wide-eyed. Lief stares back, and silence seeps into the space between them as fear’s claws strangle at his throat.
“Lief,” Jasmine sighs at last, closing her eyes briefly, “Lief. You think too much, I think.”
“That is not an answer, Jasmine,” he whispers.
“It is not,” she agrees. “It is not, but it should tell you what you need to hear.”
Lief tears his eyes away from the towers — those prisons that could, could one day be prisons no longer — and meets Jasmine’s gaze.
“And what is it that you think I need to hear?”
(He does not dare breathe: he fears it might make him miss her answer.)
“That I will stay,” Jasmine replies, a rueful smile flickering across her face. “That I will not leave the Forests and leave you here — here, alone. ...That is what you were thinking, am I right?”
At Jasmine’s amused expression, Lief smiles bashfully and inclines his head in her direction. “You are. But...” He falls silent, eyes straying towards the palace turrets once more.
Jasmine senses his hesitation and sighs, but not impatiently. “But what, Lief?”
“But you never told me why.”
At this she smiles again, broader this time, and looks from Lief to the palace at which he gazes. “Is it wrong— No, is it intrusive of me to ask?” Lief says cautiously, the frost of the question treading through his very heartbeat.
He hears Jasmine breathe in. Then:
“By all rights, yes.”
Lief’s breath shudders to a halt.
“But.”
He remembers to breathe: he does.
“But. I also think... we need to overcome this fear too.”
Lief blinks, risking a glance at Jasmine’s face; its forced blankness holds no answers. “Fear?”
“I think we have circled around this question far too long,” she says. She does not move when Lief turns his head away completely from the palace to face her.
“Question?” he repeats numbly.
“This is exactly what I mean,” Jasmine says, smiling again. “No wonder Doom laughs at me so often.”
“Jasmine,” Lief pleads, mentally setting aside a few questions for the Resistance leader. “Tell me, what question have we circled around?”
At this Jasmine’s expression falls once more, and finally she faces him. “One thing first,” she says.
“What can it possibly be?” Lief asks, exasperated.
“Swear you will not tell anyone what I say next,” Jasmine says. “Not Barda, not Sharn, no one.”
Lief stares at her, lost for words. “Why would I...?”
“Marilen has been driving me mad with this, and she insisted,” Jasmine mutters instead, a complete non-answer. She looks down briefly, taking a breath before meeting Lief’s eyes once more. “And I thought it would be an — interesting endeavor, but quite frankly —”
“Jasmine, please!”
“Very well very well, you seem to be asking for it anyway,” Jasmine snaps good-humoredly, but her voice wavers.
“Lief.” She glances away, back. Away, again; feigning indifference as ever. But —
“...What exactly are we?”
For a moment Lief thinks the words are conjured by the wind that rises suddenly, carried from some other, unrelated conversation to the madness of theirs. For a moment he stills and mulls over the words, his mind a storm. For a moment he wonders what answer Jasmine wants to hear, and what answer he wants to give.
(And for a moment he trembles at the answer he longs to be true.)
“Is this what Marilen torments you with?” he finally says, faintly. Jasmine gives him a pointed look, but color rises to her face. “Either way,” she says stubbornly, “it is the answer to the question you keep asking me. Why I want to stay.”
Lief stares blankly at her, the words completely flying over his head. “You are saying — you want to stay because... because of what ‘we’ are? But — we are...”
And there he cuts himself off, because he does not know.
“Lief,” Jasmine repeats. She reaches out and grasps his wrist firmly. “You of all people should know that I am... not exactly well versed in the mess of — well, feelings, and... and understanding that of others, and between people, and. Well.” She breathes in, the air shuddering through her in a different breed of cold.
(He is overwhelmed, suddenly, by the urge to throw his cloak over the two of them and press close to banish these wintry demons in her heart in a way that would leave no room for doubt, all his own fear be damned; but he resists, he resists, because Lief of Del is a coward.)
“I have my reasons for wanting to remain, and I know this. But I want to know why you even want me to stay, when I am — when I am nothing but a lost wild girl who is closer to the trees and the birds more than other humans, and has no place at all in a palace of royalty and nobility and I... want to know if the reason you want me to stay is the same reason I want to stay, and if I do somehow — if I will even be worth the space I take and the air I breathe staying here, where I do not belong and where I am worth little more than nothing!”
Something cracks and splinters inside Lief: everything shattering, and scattering, and ready to be blown away at a moment’s gale. Something is broken; something is utterly, utterly wrong.
(Something is in desperate need of mending.)
Her words, like the weighty pestilence that they are, seem to hang hazily in the air. But now that they have been delivered from her body, Jasmine is left limp and shivering in the rising evening wind. Her head hangs now, facing the roots of the twisted garden tree, and something about the way her eyes are lowered is all so terribly wrong to Lief.
Belatedly, she loosens her grip on his wrist and starts to withdraw her hand. Lief catches it; she looks up, and her eyes, her eyes — Lief’s heart cries out at the wrongness of it all.
“Jasmine,” he breathes, and at her name she closes her eyes and lets out a choked breath that sounds closer to a muffled sob. He pulls the hand he holds closer to him, wrapping it with both his own. “Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine, please — look at me, please, listen to me,” Lief whispers. He watches, anxious and intent, as her eyes open and turn upwards to the darkening skies, rapidly blinking away what Lief knows are tears (and how it pains him to see her drowning so) before shakily meeting his gaze.
(Here, then, begins the mending.)
Lief glances down at their hands and gives in.
Cautiously, he drags himself closer to Jasmine and releases her hand to undo his cloak, adjusting it so that it wraps around both of them. Lief sighs, deeply, a slow and steeling thing: then he takes up her hand again and squeezes it softly, his eyes caught on the press of his own fingers against hers.
(And he hesitates. How to mend something he’d been so sure would never crack?)
Carefully, he looks up to meet Jasmine’s wavering gaze.
“Jasmine,” he says quietly, “Are you sure you are in your right mind?”
That old incredulous expression of outrage Lief is so familiar with flares up again, as scathing and dismissive as always — and he smiles. This is Jasmine.
“Excuse me?” she demands.
“You seem to have forgotten,” Lief adds, “that I... told you, not too long ago, when we were in the Shadowlands, that — that I, too, will marry for love. And that I think my queen is a worthy one for Deltora, as well.”
Jasmine stares at him, wordless. Lief forces his gaze away from the way pink has spread over her cheeks, a mirror to her lips, now slightly parted; he breathes in, willing the chill of the air to fill him with determination to finally overcome this shaking fear that so shackles his heart.
“And so I... well, I asked you. If you were willing. And you seemed to say yes, and so — that is why I want you to stay, Jasmine. At my side. Because you, well...”
(The sun is approaching the horizon, and the palace burns gold.)
Lief realizes he is clutching Jasmine’s hand, tight, and he loosens his grip hastily; but to his immense relief, and even greater surprise, Jasmine mimics his earlier action and squeezes his hand.
Lief looks back at her, his turn to be rendered wordless. At his stunned expression, the corner of Jasmine’s mouth lifts ever so slightly —  a tiny small thing, but she is smiling.
(His chest aches. He wonders, half-distantly, how warm, how soft it would feel it against his own —)
He cuts that thought short. No; now is for Jasmine.
“Jasmine. You are... worth so much more than what you said, earlier,” he starts quietly. “There is no one in this entire land that I would rather have traveled with, and defeated the Shadow Lord with, and learned the ways of the Forests with, than you. Because we never would have made it beyond the very beginning without you, or lived to this day without you, and, and— Jasmine, it doesn’t matter whether or not you are of royal blood, or — or unfamiliar with the ways of people, because you can always learn, because you are the reason we still stand today, and stand here. It is you, and...”
Lief breathes in, breathes out. The cold of the air, the touch of the diamond against his skin: these he tries to bring to the forefront of his mind, rather than the burning he feels on his face and the familiar callouses he can feel on Jasmine’s fingers and the overwhelming urge he has to press them to his mouth. He fears, and fears, and hopes. 
Jasmine watches, fixed, silent.
Waiting.
“You are... irreplaceable, Jasmine. To Deltora, and — and to my heart. And so that was why I asked you to stay, and, ah, as for what we are, well...” Lief smiles slightly, bright and careful, the heat in his cheeks heightening impossibly further. “I hope that we are — more than mere companions who went on a quest and survived, and more than friends who seek each other’s company day after day. And so... I think —”
Jasmine starts laughing.
Lief can only stare as she almost tips into him, watches in embarrassed horror as she doubles over, the hand still held in his loosening for the moment. It is only thanks to years of experience that she remains on the branch, and not below it.
“Lief,” she finally wheezes, “look at you! No, no no no, look at us. No wonder we are the joke of all the palace servants, and Marilen never stops her pestering, and Ranesh gives me those looks, and — and Doom my own father for Adin’s sake keeps asking if we are still sane, ahhh —” She finally controls her laughter enough to sit up and inhale deeply, an attempt to return to normal breathing. 
Half bemused, half relieved, Lief readjusts the cloak for the sake of having something to do. He does not know if he can trust himself to speak words that make sense.
Eventually, Jasmine calms herself and sighs, long and deep. She looks Lief in the eyes, and the mirth lingering there paints the green a gentler cousin of their usual fiery sharpness. “Lief, you words are— I mean, what you said then...”
And here she bites her lip, struggling, worrying over her words: fearing, as ever, that she would say the wrong thing, or sound as such. Lief sees, and the wrongness pummels him again. He tightens his hold on her hand, wills her to summon that strength he knows she holds — to mend herself, to accept his lended strength.
Jasmine breathes in; accepts. And she smiles.
It softens Lief’s eyes.
“Your words — they mean a great deal to me,” she murmurs at last. “But Lief, it is me you are speaking to. Me. I have —” She shakes her head, her voice gaining strength. “I have seen you in every form you may take, for better or for worse. Do you think I will mock you or, or insult you or hurt you for something you want to say from your heart?”
Her smile widens before she schools it into solemn fondness and says:
“Tell me what you keep dancing around, Lief!”
Lief stares at her in astonishment, and amazement and wonder, marveling at the miracle of this incredible soul he so admires, and treasures, and —
She deserves to know.
“I ask you to stay,” Lief says delicately, firmly, his heart trembling at the possibility of it all, hoping, hoping, “I ask you to stay, because I am terrified of losing you. And that is because — because —” he breathes in: cold, steeling — “because I love you.”
He glances away — hoping, fearing, hoping — and glances back.
(He remembers to breathe.)
Jasmine is watching him carefully, through eyes wide and shining with something as namelessly bright as the surging wild joy that flares to Lief’s chest. Slowly a smile creeps across her face and helplessly he mirrors it, laughing, soft and embarrassed. Dimly he realizes he is clutching her fingers more tightly than ever; abashedly he loosens it, and it startles a choked laugh out of him when Jasmine’s immediate response is to pull it back to her and tug, using the leverage to press close. She laughs too, briefly dipping her face into his shoulder to hide her face before lifting it again to watch him.
(He hopes, he hopes —)
“I am afraid,” Jasmine murmurs, still smiling, “that I am not as... good, or — articulate, with words than — than with, well...” Her voice trails off and she lifts a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug, a trace of that old mock carelessness that, to Lief, speaks volumes more to her own nervousness than anything else.
But the smile stays on her face. “I take it you trust me?”
“With my life,” Lief replies instantly, and grins like a fool when she rolls her eyes despite the flush that rises in her cheeks.
Carefully she lifts their joined hands to rest by her sternum, over her heart; that smile still lingers on her features, now hesitant, and her eyes cast downwards to their hands. At the sight an ache begins in Lief’s chest, deep and whirling, seeping through his limbs like rain. He watches, and feels, and aches, and is silent. He feels content to watch the world turn. He feels as though this is as close to bliss as he will ever get. 
He feels the tripping pulse of Jasmine’s heart through his palm, the rise and fall of her uneven breaths, the hesitant softness in her eyes as soon as they lift to meet his.
Jasmine’s eyes flit down to their hands and back up to him. Wordlessly she leans their foreheads together, and Lief watches in his own trembling silence as her eyes flutter shut and her breaths mingle with his. He follows her and closes his eyes too, just breathing, feeling and feeling and feeling, her heartbeat still galloping beneath his hand, a rhythm to match his own.
(Lief hopes: this is on the path to mending the broken.)
“I will — stay,” Jasmine whispers haltingly, and Lief can feel her shaking everywhere. “And your words. What you said earlier. I just... I never thought I would be. Enough. For anything, for the kingdom, for — well.” She huffs, disbelieving still, after all this time. “For you.”
“I will say it,” Lief replies quietly, “as many times as you need to hear it, to believe it.” Lief opens his eyes and lifts his other hand up to tuck that wild hair back behind her ear against the wind, searches her face. She is too close; he can make nothing out, so he says, “Tell me again? ...Will you stay?”
Jasmine lets out a tiny understated laugh, leans closer. He can feel the petal touch of her exhales against his mouth; there is nothing in the world but the two of them. “I will stay, Lief. As long as you... For as long as you want.”
Her voice falls so, so warm on Lief’s lips.
“Jasmine,” he says, and it comes out far more strained than he intends, but he doesn’t care to be embarrassed, not now, not with her, not when this is more important than anything. He pulls back a breath to tilt his head ever so slightly, a silent question, hovering. “Jasmine, can I— Is this —” Is this also what you want?
“Wait, Lief,” she says suddenly, and he stops breathing. “Wait. Before we... Let me say something.”
Lief breathes again. He pulls back a bit, and he waits, as she asked; because he would tear down the stars if she so desired, and because there is a breathlessness in her voice that wrenches his attention away from everything else. Her face is so red; he knows he is no better. 
Jasmine swallows before she meets his eyes again, and it is all Lief can do to stare back, captivated by the way her fluster worries her mouth. She lets out a breath, a small muted thing, before adding just as quietly: “You said you trust me, so just, this... This is without the words.”
She lifts her chin ever so slightly, carefully presses her lips to his. The gasp slips from his mouth before he can stop it, and immediately Jasmine leans away. Lief opens his eyes (when did they close? — did they? — he is so lost and yet so found) to her nervous startled stare.
She’s shocked, Lief realizes, startled and astonished. She can barely believe I would...
(Another point of mending, but perhaps —)
“Is this— Did I— Do you still want this?” Jasmine asks, eyes still so wide, her breaths as shallow as his.
And Lief hears: Do you still want me? 
(— perhaps this is easier done than said.)
“Yes,” he whispers, pressing back in, closer this time, shivering when she sighs his name at the proximity. He lets his eyes fall shut. Blindly, he lifts his hand to thread it into her wild hair, and Jasmine makes a sound of surprise against his lips in response, her hands fumbling to loop around his neck. Lief’s mind stills, settles; everything becomes this, the gentle insistent push and pull, their sharp stuttering inhales, the clumsy careful honesty of their motions.
He pulls away eventually and leans their heads together, desperately trying to catch his breath. When his eyes open, Jasmine is watching him, and her smile blinds.
“Again?” she asks quietly, and Lief’s mouth dries. All he sees is her smile, her bright-eyed joy. “Yes,” he breathes, a repeat of his own words, before he feels Jasmine’s hands skim up from the back of his neck to cradle his jaw as she pulls him impossibly closer, ever a quick learner in this language without words, teaching him too how to speak it more fluently.
When he finally pulls back, Lief distantly registers that the sun has almost completely set. But the realization comes only after he registers Jasmine’s expression; her eyes still closed, her lips parted, the way everything about her is soft-edged and open. Vulnerable. A Jasmine only he has been blessed enough to see.
It robs him of words, so he simply tips his forehead into hers and murmurs, “Jasmine.”
He feels more than hears her questioning hum in response.
“Thank you,” Lief says quietly. “Not for — this, specifically, but for telling me. And for staying. I know you love the Forests, and I will not chain you here, but... Thank you for choosing me.”
She scoffs, but it is kind and endeared. “I thought you would hear this without my saying, but I suppose I should use words for the sake of clarity.” Jasmine turns to tuck her face into the side of his neck, and Lief closes his eyes.
“The Forests will always be there,” she murmurs against his skin. “But you... Well, if I were to leave, then who would be here to keep you from falling off a tree? Or from going mad in your kingly duties? Or even just to reminisce with about the old days of the quest? Barda might be able to achieve two of those, but absolutely not all three, I think.”
Lief opens his eyes to gaze at the darkening sky, something wordless and roaring rising in him. He leans away, looks down to meet Jasmine’s steady gaze; he feels full to overflowing, and it is all he can do to curl his fingers under her chin and bring her mouth to his again. “Jasmine,” he mumbles, his mind a haze. “Jasmine, I —”
“It was never about choosing one or the other,” she whispers, pulling just far away enough for Lief to feel every other word against his lips. “I can have the Forests, and my freedom. And I can have you too. Are we clear?”
Lief’s resounding grin is so wide he almost fears he will somehow hurt Jasmine with his teeth, but then he feels her own smile against him. “Giving me a taste of my own medicine, are we?” he asks, and she laughs when he leans back to watch her eyes flutter open, tugs on her hair gently as he carefully frees his hand to lace their fingers together. “But yes. We are clear.”
It is like this that they stay, quite alone, watching as the sky begins to glow with the promise of another kind of light. And although the sun has taken the warmth of day with it, Lief finds himself content to bask in the summer that is his place next to Jasmine, his cloak around their shoulders.
(It is like this that they stay: the quiet of his rioting heart, the slow slip of dusk to evening; and this: the weight of Jasmine’s body against his, steady and warm and here, with him.)
(Quite alone indeed.)
When the first three stars appear, Lief says quietly, “Shall we leave before the cold becomes too much for my one cloak?”
“So sensible,” Jasmine replies, her smile audible. “Let us do so, then.” And then, to Lief’s silent astonishment, she presses closer briefly before pulling away, without hesitation and so utterly at ease that it stings his eyes. He watches, still astounded, as she peels his cloak from her shoulders and swiftly begins to climb down from their perch.
The wind rises to batter them once more, but Lief hardly feels it — because now, now the world can turn as it pleases: he has finally heard what he had longed to hear, for longer than he knew.
“Lief? Lief!”
He blinks, looks down towards the sound. Jasmine stands below him, arms crossed but a grin on her face, tilted up towards him. “Are you coming down from that tree or not?”
And for the second time that day, Lief finds himself in awe of this incredible wild girl — so doubted and wounded and scorned by the world so determined to break her, but still, still, bearing and baring it all with the courage of her vulnerable pride.
He laughs, loud and bright, clumsily climbing down to her side.
Jasmine grins up at him when he lands at last, and there is a light in her eyes that rivals the stars overhead. “Ah my king, you have made it alive!”
A rush of fondness washes over him, stronger than any wind, and Lief abruptly pulls her close, bundling the edges of his cloak in his fists and wrapping her up in it. It makes her laugh in startled delight as she falls into him, and he revels in the joyful sound of it.
“In all honesty, I am only alive thanks to my wonderful teacher,” Lief murmurs into her hair. She wraps her arms around his waist, makes a soft inquisitive noise that reminds him of the Forest birds. He can feel her fluttering heartbeat against his chest, knows his own is also a bird of the same rhythm, and something in him warms. “She taught me well.”
“And who exactly is this esteemed teacher you regard so highly? A princess, perhaps, or a noble lady?” Jasmine asks, playful despite the careful hesitance in her voice.
Lief pulls back slightly, dropping the edges of his cloak from his hands to hold her by her forearms, looks into her eyes. They roam, searching his face.
He laughs, quiet and small, but for some inexplicable reason he also wants to cry.
“Oh, but have you not heard?” Lief says. “She is far from any princess or lady; she is Deltora’s queen, more than worthy of her crown. And she is, more importantly —” he breathes in, no longer needing hope — “my love.”
A slow smile, bright and open and real, spreads across Jasmine’s face before she buries it in his shoulder. “Lief,” she mumbles, “when I said I want to stay... I also meant to say. That — that I. I love you too.”
He closes his eyes, presses his own smile to her temple. “I know,” he says. She hums quietly, a question. How? Lief laughs quietly and wraps his arms around her.
“You already told me. Without words.”
(And now there are two on the path to mending, instead of one.)
--
bonus coda:
leaf: “wait. Wait. then... who did you think i was referring to when i said i would marry for love back then after the shadowlands?” jas: “idk i’m just too used to you just saying stupid Grand shit all the time ok lil king, don’t blame this on me”
marilen and doom, straight up faceplanting: “oh for the love of aDIN”
--
how much does jas r e a l l y understand about Feelings(TM) and Certain Specific Gestures? idk man that’s a whole other fic, i can’t possibly add the lief-explaining-relationships-to-jasmine brand of jaslief in here it’s already too full of all the other tropes i wanna read HAHAHA
MORE FUN NOTES!
this monster started as a casual take on the “jaslief clears the air between them” and became a 5k+ Absolute Unit
like. i wrote the first draft of this on my phone in fuckign 2017 while in china in desperate attempts to mentally escape Pestering Relatives and then promptly forgot it existed for a year and a half and THEN i decided to completely rewrite some parts and add completely new ones...............pffffttttt, i can’t believe i’m still alive
The Biggest Shoutout to the greatest showman ost (especially rewrite the stars! a BOP!) for giving me some gr9 background music / motivation while i stumble around in writing a subject i have -0 experience in ooPS
(“but you’re here in my heart / so who can stop me if I decide you’re my destiny” + “it’s up to you and it’s up to me / no one can say what we get to be”)
also! a Cursed Thing that occurred to me while writing their names as leaf and jas was: leafyboy and jasgirl. like... fireboy and watergirl? ..........no? no one? (i’m so sorry i have no excuse)
this is also essentially me projecting my huge crush on both characters in this ship L M A O
I MEANT TO HAVE THIS DONE BY 5/20 FOR “CONFESSION DAY” BUT WHOOPS
finally, another shoutout to my slow slide into the kpop chasm !! i can’t believe im saying this, BUT: stream mikrokosmos by bts, bc god i looped the hell out of this song while doing the final stages of editing and rewriting
HOPE YALL ENJOYED!! if you wanna scream at me, to me, with me, p l e a s e do it i love yelling and i wanna make friends please please please
52 notes · View notes
deansmom · 2 years
Text
I’m just imagining Jensen having dinner with Misha after a con and getting to his room and doing the Enchanted tiktok trend, him laying on the ground passionately singing PLEASE DON’T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE
…and then Misha uses the key he has to Jensen’s room and is like “tf are you doing on the floor? You’re going to regret that in the morning, old man. Get up here.”
13 notes · View notes
sheewolf85 · 6 years
Text
Writing Challenge – Day 33
Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP just found out they’re pregnant.  Now imagine them coming up with a creative way to tell Person B.  Bonus if Person B misunderstands hilariously. Pair: SpicyHoney Rating: M Tags/Warnings: language, mpreg, skelepreg, I don’t think this counts as kinkshaming, but there’s a misunderstanding involving kinks, Edge might be kind of an idiot, anxiety over a misunderstanding, internal fears NSFW/SFW – mostly? Notes: I’m only rating this an M because of the kink in the misunderstanding.  I’m not sure if PG-13 would be more appropriate, but I guess I’d rather rate higher than lower than necessary. AO3 Link
Stretch stared down at his pelvis for a long moment, unable to believe what he was seeing.  At first, he’d thought he missed a spot showering that morning, but when he’d looked closer…well, that wasn’t spent magic.  He’d poked at it gently, curiously.  It was strangely spongy.  Inside the tiny, orange orb, he could see an even tinier soul glowing white.
It was a womb.  He was pregnant.
He sucked in a deep breath and let the initial wave of panic ride over him.  He and Edge had never talked about having kids.  Edge was very particular in his life plan, and this would throw a kink those plans.  The money they’d managed to raise for that vacation Edge had talked about for two years now—all of it would have to be used to get ready for the baby.  They’d need to get a bigger place. They’d need to buy shit.
He gave himself five minutes. Five minutes to panic and feel overwhelmed and scared.  After those five minutes passed, he straightened his spine, wiped his face, and forced himself to think about this logically.
Pushing his own emotions aside, he asked himself if Edge would really be upset.  No.  Edge was a master at adjusting to shit life threw at him.  He would understand that Stretch hadn’t done this on purpose, and together they would figure out what to do.
And maybe for the first few months, Stretch could work extra to make up for the money they’d be using out of the vacation fund.  Maybe they could still do that before the baby came.  It was a long shot, but Stretch wouldn’t give up hope.
After he’d managed to calm himself down and stay calmed for a while, he told himself it was time to think about how he was going to tell Edge.  A part of him wanted to just get it over with and face the consequences, but another part of him wanted to drop cute hints until Edge figured it out.  The one outcome Stretch wanted to avoid at all costs was the one where Edge didn’t think he was happy about this.  Because he really was.  He’d thought about kids before, but never really felt it was time to bring it up.
He thought of an idea and smiled to himself.  It would be perfect.  Part puzzle, part confession, part hopeful plea to be happy about this.  With that thought, he finished dressing and went to get started.
Edge eyed Stretch carefully.  Something was off.  He couldn’t put a phalanx on it, but something was different with his boyfriend.  He didn’t like it.  He had thought if something was wrong, Stretch would talk to him.  Instead of talking, Stretch was acting like nothing was amiss at all.
Stretch noticed the way Edge was looking at him.  He wanted to say that everything was fine, but he knew once he opened that conversation it wouldn’t stop until Stretch confessed.  He hoped Edge would hold off on confronting him until after dinner, because then Stretch could put his plan in place.  He had tried to act normal, but in doing so had overcompensated and raised Edge’s hackles even more.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Edge finally asked as they sat down for dinner.
Stretch figured it was a miracle he’d gotten this close.  Instead of making Edge wait any longer, he got up.
“i have something i need to show you. stay here.”  He left to get the bag from the closet.  It was a pink and green gift bag with no words or hints on the outside.  He set it down on the table in front of Edge’s plate.
Edge furrowed his brow bones.  “WHAT IS THIS?”  He eyed it like it was going to attack him.
Stretch smiled.  “it’s the answer you’re looking for.”  He leaned forward on the table, resting on his elbows, and waited for Edge’s curiosity to get the better of him.
Edge looked his boyfriend over carefully.  Nothing in his face or his stance showed any kind of malice or trickery.  Perhaps a bit of excitement and worry, but nothing bad.
“ALRIGHT, ASSHOLE; I’LL BITE.”  Food forgotten, he picked up the gift bag and pulled out a handful of pink and white tissue paper.  Inside was a card and a small, wrapped box.  He set the tissue paper aside and pulled out the card.  Eyeing Stretch the whole time, he opened the card.  The front of it was white with three words printed in bold letters:
Happy Father’s Day
Edge raised a brow bone and opened the card.  Stretch had written, “i love you, daddy” on the inside in his messy scrawl.  Edge coughed.
“UM…” He wasn’t sure how to feel about this.
Stretch waited semi-patiently for Edge to open the box.  He did slowly, picking the tape off carefully instead of ripping it open.  Inside was a dark blue pacifier with a skull and crossbones on the front.  Edge picked it up and looked it over, his chest roiling with discomfort as he contemplated what Stretch was trying to tell him.
Stretch bounced his leg impatiently, waiting for any sign that Edge was going to be happy about this.  He couldn’t let himself believe that Edge was disgusted, and yet that was what his face was showing.
“so…?” Stretch prodded.  He leaned forward again, this time pushing down a wave of panic.  Edge’s face hadn’t changed.
“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS,” Edge said, setting the pacifier down.  “ALTHOUGH I’M NOT SURE I APPRECIATE THE GIFT.  I THINK IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER TO TALK ABOUT THIS BEFOREHAND.”
Stretch felt his soul fall to the ground.  He swallowed and looked down at his plate.  He should have just told Edge.  He shouldn’t have tried to make it cute.  Edge was from a world that didn’t appreciate cute.  He should have known better, dammit!  He took a deep breath and told himself not to panic.  Everything was going to be okay, one way or another.  He loved Edge, and he knew Edge loved him back.  They’d figure something out.
Edge watched as Stretch all but fell apart beside him.  He felt bad, but he wasn’t going to lie about his feelings just to appease someone else.  That was asking for trouble in the long run.  He reached out and placed a hand on Stretch’s arm.
“LET’S EAT, AND THEN WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS, OKAY?”
Stretch nodded.  He knew he wasn’t going to be able to eat much, but he tried.  He felt sick.  He couldn’t help but think of the worst possible scenarios, one after another running through his head and making him nauseous.  Edge could ask him to get rid of it.  Edge could leave him.  Edge could…
“HEY, BREATHE.”
He flinched and looked at Edge, realizing that he was breathing erratically.  Edge stood up and took Stretch’s hands, guiding him up and leading him to the couch.  They sat side by side, and Edge didn’t let go of his hands.
“THIS OBVIOUSLY MEANS MORE TO YOU THAN I REALIZED.  I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU, STRETCH, BUT I’M NOT SURE I’M COMFORTABLE WITH THIS.  CAN YOU TELL ME WHY YOU WANT…THAT?”
Stretch tried to calm down.  He wasn’t sure how.  How was he going to explain to Edge that he wanted to keep the baby?  If Edge wasn’t comfortable being a parent, they were going to have to either compromise or split up, and Stretch wasn’t okay with either of those options.
“i never thought about it before, but this morning…it was there, and i…i don’t know, edge.”  He shook his head and leaned into Edge’s side.
Edge was thoroughly confused.  “WHAT ABOUT THIS MORNING MADE YOU WANT TO CALL ME DADDY?”
Something clicked in Stretch’s mind.  He realized at that moment that they were having two very different conversations.  He suddenly understood why Edge would be uncomfortable.  He couldn’t help it.  He pulled back and burst into laughter.  Relief tore through him at the same time as the absurdity of the situation.  Edge thought the gift was him proposing a new kink!
Edge watched with hesitation as Stretch lost his shit next to him.  It took several minutes for him to calm down enough to say coherent words.
“oh…oh my stars…hahaha!” he took a few breaths and leaned in to kiss Edge.  “i love you, even if you are an idiot sometimes.”
Edge bristled.  “LISTEN, FUCKFACE, I’M NOT THE ONE—”
Stretch waved him off, shaking his head.  “no, no…see, i don’t want to call you daddy.  not like that.  but, you are a daddy.”
“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?”
Stretch leaned back, lifting his shirt and pulling the front of his pants down just far enough to expose the tiny womb nestled above his pelvis.  “i’m pregnant, asshat.”
Edge sat still for several long moments, staring at the evidence of their offspring.  Before Stretch had any time to get worried again, Edge’s face broke out into a wide smile.  He pulled Stretch onto his lap and kissed him hard, one hand going down to very gently touch the womb.
“I’M A FATHER?”
“yep.”  Together, they watched Edge’s fingers trace the outside of the baby bump.  He leaned into Edge’s shoulder.  “are you okay with this?”
Edge nodded reverently.  “IT’S NOT SOMETHING I THOUGHT WOULD EVER HAPPEN FOR ME.  WHERE I’M FROM…CHILDREN ARE ONLY ALLOWED FOR CERTAIN COUPLES CHOSEN AND PROTECTED BY THE KING.  AS CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD, I WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ALLOWED…”  He trailed off, turning his attention back to the baby.  “SOMETIMES I HAVE TO REMIND MYSELF THAT I’M NOT THERE ANYMORE.  I’M HERE WITH YOU, AND I���M ALLOWED TO HAVE THINGS LIKE THIS.”
Stretch nuzzled Edge’s jaw.  “i really love you.”
Edge turned his head to kiss Stretch deeply, pouring every ounce of love and devotion he felt into it.
42 notes · View notes
nctwayvangels · 6 years
Text
Lovable surprise (Baekhyun scenario)
Genre: Fluff, tiny tiny tiny smut as it’s only basic references
Pairing: Baekhyun X You/Reader
Word counting: 5618 
Warnings : Otp 12
Notes: I apologise since the beggining for any misspelling as I was too lazy to read it over again xD To be honest I don’t really think it is that good but I promise you that I’ll try my best to get better at writting! Still hope you guys like it!!
Tumblr media
You took one more chip from the packet and stared at it for a whole minute wondering how something so unhealthy and salty could be at the same time so delicious. You guessed it was just like everything else in life. Everything that was awfully tempting also had its bad side.
“Please tell me you’ve not been staring at a chip during all this time.”-An overly happy voice echoed through the 4 walls and you smiled not even needing to guess who it was. Baekhyun walked towards you and without giving you time to say anything, he stole your chip with his own mouth, quickly chewing and swallowing it.
“My…My chip!!”-You yelled and he started laughing like crazy, watching you as your face expression turned into an annoyed one.
“You look so cute frowning like that.”-Baekhyun complimented,pressing the space between your eyebrows, where a frown was clearly visible.
“I don’t need you to tell me something that I already know.”-You shotted back receiving a smirk as a response.
“Is that so?”-He asked,carefully picking up the chips bag and putting it on top of the coffee table. When he turned again to you, you could swear that his pupils were definitely more dilated than before and his eyes had turned a shade darker, full of lust. He sat down on the sofa where you were layed, and he leaned down, meeting your neck. Without any kind of warning he started kissing it, sending chills all over your body. You nodded answering his question, not being able to pronounce clear words.- “From what I remember today, you still haven’t given me my birthday present.”-Baekhyun reminded you, whispering it at your ear, seconds before bitting it. You gasped,not expecting for something like that and he started chuckling. Talk about being overconfident of his effect on you.
 You sat, moving him away from you, as a smile crept on your face. You still weren’t going to give him his birthday present, but one thing you were sure. Baekhyun would definitly love it, you had no doubt.
“I know that okay? What do you take me for? You truly found an incredible girlfriend, I didn’t forget to give you something on your birthday.”-You pretended to be disappointed, sighing deeply just to add a little special touch.-” Jeez oppa, a little more faith in me please.”
“Sorry babygirl. I know that you’re an incredible girlfriend, but stop complimenting yourself. I’m not that bad either.”-He replied back to which you started laughing.
“Nae nae, you’re the best. Jjang!”-You gave him a thumbs up to which he snorted, not believing a word you were saying.
“I truly hope that was not full of sarcasm.”-Baekhyun threatned and you showed him your most serious face.
“It was not sir. Over.”-You responded, using a seriously melancholic ton of voice. Baek shrugged his shoulders, trying to think about something else that wouldn’t make him start laughing.
“I’ll give you your birthday present later tonight.”-You whispered and he quickly turned around, facing you.
“Really? You’re not lying?”-He asked almost screaming and you nodded your head, almost laughing at his childish way.-”Pinky promise!”-He grabbed your right hand, sticking up your pinky finger, entrelacing it with his.-”You promised, don’t you dare trying to escape our promise!”-Baekhyun warned, pointing at you and you nodded once again, but this time laughing.
“Besides that, we still have the dinner we all planned with the rest of the guys. Did you forget?”-By the way his eyes widened, you knew that he had totally forgotten about it. Baekhyun layed his head on top of your legs, before looking at you pouting.
“Do we really need to go? Can’t we stay here, at home?”-He asked cutely, blinking his eyes a couple of times but in the end you still answered with a no.
“It was you who planned this diner. Do you really want to cancel it only a couple of hours before it?”-You asked back and just as he was about to opwn his mouth to answer, you started shaking your hands in the air.-”You know what, don’t answer!!”-You exclaimed and he nodded smiling.
“Let’s just get ready then.”- He got up,offering you one hand to help you get up, which you gadly accepted.-”Should we go take a shower together?”-He asked smirking, and you replied hitting him in his shoulder.
“You know just as much as I do that if we do that, we’ll end up taking longer than if we took them separated.”-You said giggling,winking at him. Baekhyun stole a peck from your lips, agreeing with what you had just said.
“You’re right, we truly would end up taking longer. Anyway, you should go in front of me, I don’t really mind going second.”-He offered and you nodded as you stood in the point of your toes, trying to stand at one height that would allow you to kiss him comfortably.
“I love you Baek-ah.”-You whispered against his lips, and you immediately felt his lips turn upwards in a smile.
“I love you too, I seriously love you so much.”-Baekhyun said back, surrounding your back with his arm, offering more support to the kiss.-”Now you should go before I decide that we really shouldn’t go to this stupid dinner.”-You started giggling, quickly taking your leave and running upstairs,only stopping at the middle of the stairs showing him one last smile, before disappearing from his camp of vision.-”This girl wil be the death of me..”-He murmured lovingly,running his hand through his hair. 
Baekhyun sat again on the sofa, taking from his jacket pocket one small navy blue with gold details velvet box. He carefully opened it, revealing a diamond wedding ring.
“It is supposed to be my birthday, why did I even decide to ask her today?”-He rethorically asked, closing it and putting it again inside his pocket.-”I guess she will actually be the one surprised today.”
When you arrived at your and Baekhyun’s room, you ran towards yours walk-in closet, wondering about what you should wear. From what you heard from Baek, it would be a somewhat formal dinner, and even though you were almost one hundred per cent sure that the night would end up in a karaoke room,you decided that you still should wear something formal. From the amount of dresses displayed one quickly popped up, a flowy, sleeveless, black dress,with two red roses across the chest. Staring at it for some seconds, you didn’t need much to realise it was the one Baekhyun had bought you in your last birthday, and surprisingly you had never worn it before. Now you had the perfect ocasion to wear it.
As soon as you stepped inside the bathroom, you turned the hot water on, waiting for it to fill the bathtub. You stared at the full-length mirror, appreciating your figure, that in a question of weeks would start to show changes. You caressed your belly,not trying to hide your entusiasm now that Baekhyun wasn’t next to you.
“Daddy will be really surprised when we tell him later tonight, don’t you think baby?”-You asked happily,still caressing and talking to your baby.-”Still you don’t have to worry about anything my love, daddy will be really happy to know that in a few months we’ll be having you next to us. He will love you so much that mommy will be jealous of you.”-You said giggling, imagining how much of an amazing father Baekhyun would be, it was no secret to anyone how much he loved kids.
You entered the bathtub,immediately feeling each one of your muscles relax. After you were sure that both your body and hair were clean enough, you dried up and tugged both in two towels, just in time when Baekhyun finally entered the shared bathroom.
 "That was quite fast from what you usually take to have a shower.“-He stated holding his smile.-”A bath that is.”-He added, pointing at the wet bathtub.
“You’re really taking advantage of today being your birthday to tease me aren’t you Byun Baekhyun?!”-You asked even though you already knew the answer to that. 
“Well, I do also tease you this freely in the other days but yeah.”-Forget about it, you were not expecting this answer. He started chuckling as soon as he saw your face.-“I’m sorry I’m sorry babygirl, I’ll stop now.”-He said, now embracing you.- “ I should take a shower for once and for all so we can go and get over this stupid dinner and then maybe we could get some time alone and have some fun.”- He whispered in your ear, taking advantage of the position you were. Gently he brushed his lips along you ear, leaving a single bite in it, making you jump in surprise.
“Baek!!Enough come on, hurry up and let’s.”- You nagged him again and he chuckled in amusement. 
Going out of the bathroom you took your time getting dress in the space of your bedroom. Staring at your chosen black high heels, you frowned by knowing that in a few months you wouldn’t be able to use them for a while.
“Better use it while I still can.”-You conclued, shrugging your shoulders. You put your heels on and started to do your make up, finishing just at the same time Baekhyun left the bathroom. He stared at you, impressed, still not believing just how someone as amazing as you could be so in love with him. To him, you were the only thing he was sure that even if he died, he would still love wholeheartly in whatever next life he had.
“Woah babe, you look so beautiful.”-Baek complimented, surrounding your waist with his long arms, bringing you closer to his chest. Even though you were wearing high heels, Baekhyun still stood tall in front of you, not that you cared about it. After all, you always loved yours and Baek’s height difference. However, you could only cringe in embarassement whenever you stood next to either Chanyeol, Sehun or Kris, mainly those three. The height difference was almost ridiculous as you looked like a minion next to them, your only hope was your best friend Aeri, Chanyeol’s girlfriend, who despite being only 3cm taller than you, had a bigger height difference between her and her boyfriend compared to you and Baekhyun.-”On the other side why do you look so good tonight? It’s just a dinner with the guys and the girls.”-He asked playfully, arching one of his brows, making you punch his soulder lightly.
“I’ve already told you Baek, it’s a formal dinner, I can’t just show up wearing rags!!”-You exclaimed, giving him one last smile before freeing yourself from his arms, going to pick up your handbag.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you would still good in it.”-He stated and you automatically rolled your eyes.
“Stop sweet talking me Byun Baekhyun. We’re going to that dinner.”-You crushed his expectations, kissing his cheek.
“It was worth the try though.”-He stated, sighing deeply. Baekhyun grabbed his car keys from the top of your makeup vanity, waiting for you to walk in front of him, so he could close your bedroom’s door.
After leaving the car and entering his car, you turned the radion on, enjoying each music was passing on. My House by 2PM echoed through the car columns, and you quickly started singing, enjoying the song from one of your favourite groups.
“It’s alright…”-Before you could keep singing, Baekhyun interropted you, putting his right hand on top of your mouth.
“Stop please, not only are you embarassing yourself, you’re also ruining the song!”-At his statement your eyes widened, utterly surprised at his remark.
“Well excuse me for my bad singing!”-You aggressively apologised, and tsked, turning to the side so you could face the window view.
“I’m joking babe!! You sing amazingly!”-No matter how hard you tried to sound mad, every single time everything went to waste as you could not stay mad with him for more than mere seconds. You loved him too much.
“The damage is already done, no point in coming for your salvation.”-You joked, receiving a chuckle as an answer.
“Better let you know that we’re almost there. I didn’t want to choose a restaurant too far away from home so I just opted by this french one. It’s a pretty expensive, luxurious one so I really hope those bunch of idiots don’t so anything stupid.”-Baekhyun said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. You started laughing, not being able to control yourself after hearing him once again mistreat his friends. They were all like brothers so it was only normal to see them behaving like so when it came to dealing with each other. After being together with Baekhyun for already five years you were already more than used to hearing all of them mistreating each other.
“Don’t be so mean, they know how to behave in those kind of places. It’s not like they’re some type of wild dogs!”-You teased, unlocking your seat belt the moment Baek parked his car.
“Well….”-He started, immediately receiving a disapproving glare from you.-”I guess you’re right?”-Baek continued, sounding slighly more like he was making a question rather than giving an answer. He got out of the car, opening the door for you like the true gentleman he was. He offered you his hand to which you gladly took, enterlacing your fingers with his.-”Let’s go?”-He asked and you nodded, smiling at him. Baekhyun stopped walking, and gently held your chin up with his index finger and thumb, leaving a light peck on your lips. You giggled, feeling the cold sensation, also know as butterflies in your stomach.
“I love you.”-You said, staring lovingly at his eyes and he nodded, pecking you once again.
“I know. I love you too Y/N, more than anything.”-He told you back. 
You guys entered the fancy restaurant, getting surprised by how more luxurious it looked from inside compared to the outside. You could only imagine how much something like that was worth. You were immediately approached by one of the receptionists who guided you to your designated table. Multiple known faces, turned around, smiling at the two of you.
“Look at the love birds! Finally decided to show up?”-Chen asked, being the first one to start with the entertaining questions. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, waiting and longing for the moment all of his questions would cease.
“Happy Birthday hyung, you deserve it!”-Sehun congratulated Baek, getting up to hug him, which he did.
“One year older Baek, doesn’t exactly mean more wiser but we can’t expect everything from you right?”-Luhan joked making him laugh and you joined him. Honestly, you loved to see how close everyone was. Despite all the troubles and fights between them, at the end everything always got sorted out and their connection and frienship stronger. It was a beautiful thing to see.
 You two sat down, expecting that everyone could finally start to order their food but something stand out, the two empty chairs next to you reminded you that two people were still missing. Baekhyun grabbed your hand, and bringed it to his mouth, kissing it lightly.
“What’s wrong love? You look anxious.”-He asked slightly worried and you pointed the two seats next to you before glancing over at Suho.
“Where’s Chanyeol and Aeri?”-You asked, and just as quick as you asked, all of them started laughing.
“Why do you look so surprised Y/N? They’re late like always. It’s no longer something new coming from those two.”-Kris answered, shrugging his shoulders and you sighed deeply knowing just how true what he said was.
“Were you talking about us?”-A new manly voice asked, capting all of your attention.
"Look who decided to appear! Can’t even arrive at time on my own birthday party Yeol?”-Baekhyun asked, getting up so he could hug his best friend. Chanyeol laughed, hugging him back.
“You already know how we are Baek, don’t know what you were expecting.”-He answered, letting go of him and pulling Aeri once again to him. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, taking once again his seat next to you, not really surprised for having his best friend paying more attention to his girlfriend rather than in him, even though it was his birthday. After all, Baekhyun knew that if it was him, he too would do the same.
You looked at Aeri who was now already in Chanyeol’s arms, being pressed against his chest. You and Baek stared at each other in panic, not knowing how to deal with how cheesy both of your best friends were acting.
“Ew come on Chanyeol let go of Aeri. You guys are making me want to puke!”-Kris exclaimed, turning his head around, disgusted for the amount of affection displayed in public.
“Hyung you and the others are only thinking that because you guys are all single.”-Chanyeol exclaimed and Aeri high fived him, satisfied with his remark.
“Not wanting to disappoint you Chanyeol but in case you forgot, I’m already married.”-Xiumin recalled, lifting Sarang‘s hand, showing off their wedding rings.
“Hum also, me and Baekhyun are dating,Chanyeol.”-You pointed out the obvious and for a second both Aeri and Chanyeol became speechless, providing one rare moment of calmness. They ignored what you were saying, taking the two empty seats next to you.
“Don’t think that I’ll let you off the hook so easily Aeri ssi.”-You said teasingly, pinching one of her arms. She stared at you with a pair of overly fake puppy eyes, batting her eyelashes.-”Please stop looking at me like that. I’m not Yeol, there’s no way that will work with me. Besides that, it’s really annoying, you’re making me want to punch you.”-You confessed jokingly. Aeri gasped in surprise, completely taken back by your ruthless comment.
“Are you picking a fight with me? I would take you down anytime girlie. If I had an heart I’d say that it actually hurt but guess what, I don’t have one.”-Aeri said, acting like the over dramatic and extra self she was. You rolled your eyes due to how childish she was, still that was one of the things you must loved about her, her carefree personality always made you laugh, even in your worst moments.
Every one of you ordered a specific plate, starting the night with a couple of drinks. Baekhyun picked your glass up, ready to pour down some wine but you quickly took it away from his hand, not allowing him to pour a single drop.
“What’s wrong love? You don’t like this type of wine? Because if it’s that there’s no problem, I’ll just order another bottle.”-Baekhyun suggested, already lifting his hand to call an employee but you stopped him, shacking your head in a negative motion.
“It’s not that babe, I just don’t feel like drinking tonight.”-You said smiling innocently. You just hoped that he would believe in your little white lie, as you would hate it if he found out the important surprise you were hiding before you could be the telling him. Baek glanced at you confused, slightly suspicious wondering if there was nothing more added to it than what you were saying.
“Just order something else then to drink, what would you like, I’ll go get it for you.”-He suggested, puting a strand of your brown hair behind your hair.
“Could you get me a can of seven up?”-You pleaded and he nodded, offering you a radiant smile. Baekhyun pecked your lips, and as all of your friends started making disgusted sounds, you started laughing. Guess they still weren’t used to how touchy the two of you were, which in a way was kinda of strange since Chanyeol and Aeri were way worse than you. 
Sarang and Aeri stared at you suspiciously, arching their eyebrows.
“Are you sure you don’t want to drink tonight Y/N? It’s your boyfriend’s birthday. Besides that you love to drink!”-Sarang pointed out and although you wanted to refuse, you just couldn’t deny something that was so true.
“Gentlemen, if you excuse us, we need to make a trip to the bathroom, Sarang, Y/N, please accompany me.”-Aeri said, getting up, followed right away by Sarang. You sighed deeply, already knowing what was about to happen. Apparently, Baekhyun wasn’t going to be the first one to discover about your pregnancy. You followed to the girls to the bathroom, being showered by different questions the moment the door closed.
“Okay spit it out, what’s that story of not feeling like drinking tonight?”-Sarang asked, sounding a bit overly sarcastic in the last bit of her question.
“Woah you girls are really slow aren’t you?”-You asked teasingly, watching their faces turn into a bitter expressionn. You smiled mischeviously, arching one of your brows.-”I mean, I understand that Baek and the rest of the guys can’t exactly figure out the reason but you two? You’re kinda of a disappointment right now!!”-You overreacted as a way to prolongue the mistery. Aeri’s eyes widened and a single gasp was heard.
“No way!! Are you serious Y/N? Oh my god please tell me it’s exactly what I’m thinking!”-Aeri yelled excitely, jumping always in the same spot. You nodded, confirming her suspicions.
“Oh my freaking god Y/N! You’re pregnant??”-Sarang whispering asked, catching up quickly what Aeri was trying to say.
“Surprise surprise, in some months a new member will join our family!”-You announced, immediately feeling two pairs of arms around your frame.
“I’m so happy for you Y/N! Baekhyun will be so happy when he finds out!”-Aeri exclaimed, stroking her bestfriend’s hair.-”I’m being really honest here, I almost feel like crying right now. My best friend is going to be a mom can you believe it?”
“The first baby in our family, woah, can you imagine how excited all the guys will be when they find out they’re going to be uncles?”-Sarang wondered, making the two younger girls giggle along with her.
“Baekhyun still doesn’t know, I’m planning on telling him tonight as his birthday gift.”-You explained, bitting your bottom lip. Although you were pretty sure your boyfriend would be in cloud nine the moment he found out that he was going to be a dad, the negative part of your mind was coming up with terrifying scenarios in which Baekhyun wouldn’t really react that well to the news.
“Y/N trust me, stop worrying about how Baekhyun will react to the news. I assure you he will love it!”-Aeri conforted her, pinching your cheeks.-”Now let’s get out of here before it lifts too many suspicions, we’re already taking a while here.”-She recalled, and the two of you agreed. After this dinner Baekhyun was going to find out, he was going to find out that one of his biggest dreams was going to come true.
Baekhyun arrived at the table, finding it weird the sudden disappearance of the three girls.
“Where’s Y/n, Aeri and Sarang?”-He asked, looking directly at his best friends.
“They went to the bathroom a while ago. You know how girls are, if one goes the others follow her.”-Jongin answered, shrugging his shoulders as he could not understand why couldn’t they just go by themselves.
“Do you have everything sorted out yet?”-Suho asked, changing the topic of the conversation. Baek nodded, smilling happily as everything was running smoothly as he predicted.
“I still can not understand why of all days you chose your birthday to ask her to marry you.”-Kyungsoo said, glancing up to look at him.
“I just thought that if I wasn’t able to ask her today it would take a whole while longer to do it.”-He shrugged his shoulders, not really having a special reason to why this was the day he was going to propose.-”Everything is planned, there’s nothing to worry about. It doesn’t mean I’m not extremely anxious and nervous, but knowing that there’s not a single thing going wrong eases me out.”
 You and your two friends arrived precisely at the moment Baek stopped talking, not lifting any suspicions on both sides. You kissed Baekhyun’s cheek thankful for the drink as you drank a single gulp.
All of you started eating your ordered food, enjoying the time spent together, laughing at the silly jokes Yeol and Chen cracked once in a while.
“I’m telling you, my new club is going to be an hit!”-Xiumin stated, not even trying to hide how excited he was for his new business project.-”To show you how confident I am about it, I already decided the guest list.”
“As long as we’re there nothing else matters.”-Baekhyun joked, being followed by a few laughs.
“You are don’t you worry.”-He assured.-”But now that I think about it I don’t know if thats’s such a good idea. You guys sure do know how to make a ruckus!”-Tao glanced surprised and at the same time hurt at him.
“Thanks for the amount of support hyung. You do trust us a lot.”-The blonde maknae murmured, puffing his cheeks with air. How looks could fool people. 
“Is there anything else you want baby?”-Baek asked, enterlacing your fingers with his. You shook your head, smiling.
“It’s okay, let’s just order dessert for everyone. We have the birthday cake yet to eat Baek, don’t forget about it.”-You reminded him, giving him a knowing look. He rolled his eyes at you, it was his birthday, how could he forget it?
Baekhyun glanced at Luhan, tilting his head slightly to the right, giving him the planned sign that it was time for the surprise. Luhan smiled, nodding as he understood what his friend was trying to say. He lifted his hand, letting the restaurant staff know that it was finally time for the big surprise.
All of a sudden, all the lights turned off, the restaurant only being iluminated by multiple candles, confering the space a more romantic aura but also a more festive one. You looked around you not really knowing what was going on, thinking that probably the guys planned something behind your back, afraid that you could spill the beans.
Voices started to be heard and the popular melody was quickly recognised by everyone who got up right away. The birthday song started to ecchoe all through the restaurant, even strangers joining the festive athmosphere, not minding the sudden change of their dinner plans.
One of the chefs walked slowly towards your table, holding what seemed to be the cake, not being able to be completely sure about it as it was covered. Still, you joined your friends chanting the birthday song, feeling Baekhyun’s arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He chanted the song too against your hair, leaving soft kisses in it. 
The chef put the box on top of the table as the last beat of the song ecchoed and all the lights turned on once again. As the view became clearer to you, you finally realised the countless balloons and bouquets around you, making you arch your eyebrows in confusion. Just what the hell was going on? You felt Baekhyun’s arms slowly retreating from your waits, only leaving you more confused. 
Wasn’t it supposed to be a birthday dinner? So why all the bouquets and balloons? Okay, sure the balloons fitted the theme, but the bouquets? Everything was just getting way too weird-
“What is going on?”-You asked, glancing over at Aeri who had a way too big smile plastered in her face. She winked at you, pointing at the cake , that was now finally uncovered after Kris had the dignity to do so. In the middle of the cake, written in an extremely familiar caligraphy, the words Marry me? stood up brightly, automatically making your eyes tear up. 
You turned around, no longer feeling his embrance around you, just to face your most beloved one, down in one knee, now holding an open night blue velvet box with a diamond wedding ring.
“I’ve been planning this for so long but now that the time came I can’t remember of anything, not a single word.”-Baekhyun confessed nervously, making all of your friends around you chuckle.-”I can still remember the first time I saw you, it was in that small antique cafe next to Sehun’s university. You smiled at Aeri and boom, I knew I was screwed. I had fallen in love with you at first sight. You literally had me from the first moment we saw each other, and from then on, I knew I had to have you, I knew I had to try my best to conquer the beautiful girl I have today in front of me.”-He continued as he held your left hand, now more confident and assured than never about his words.-”For the last 3 years and half you’ve seen my happy side, my sad side, from the best one to the worst, you’ve seen it all. I can not put it into words how grateful I am for having you standing by my side throughout everything we’ve been through. I can only hope I made you as happy as you’ve made me. That’s why I’ve mastered all my courage and decided to ask you tonight a special question. Y/L/N Y/N, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”-Baekhyun asked, staring at your eyes, that were now driping tears as if there was no tomorrow.
You nodded your head repeatedly, uncaple to pronounce any understandable words at that precise moment.
“Of course I will! I will marry you Baekhyun!”-And that, those words were all it took for your friends to erupt in cheers as he pressed your body so hard against his, you could swear you had stopped breathing for some seconds. But that didn’t matter, not when you were that happy. The man of your dreams had just asked you to marry him! You werein cloud nine.
Sehun and Chanyeol popped the champagne bottles open, making sure they hadn’t “accidentally” shook them before.
“Congratulations! You are officialy the second couple of the group to get engaged!!”-Suho congratuled, hugging the two of you as a proud mother, letting two of her kids finally go from her protection.-”I know the two of you will be extremely happy together.”
“Can you believe that in the next few months not only will we have another married couple, that is if you know, Chanyeol decide what you want to do with your life mate, but also a baby in our group? Wow my children are growing up.”-Sarang commented making Xiumin agree, having the same vision as his wife.
“Well thankfully for all of us, we can always ask here mister rich heir Sehun and sucessful CEO Minseok to buy a gigantic mansion to fit all of us more, who knows, probably some more of our girlfiends in the future?”-Chen joked and Sehun had to contain his soaring will to use sarcasm against him. He really didn’t want to make unpleasant comments in the day one of his hyungs had got engaged.
“Thank you, sinceraly. If it wasn’t for all of you, there was no way I could’ve pulled this off.”-Baekhyun thanked, demonstrating his grattitude, almost coming to his knees, bowing. However, no matter  how grateful he was, he still wanted to spend the rest of the few hours he still had left from his birthday day, alone with his just turned fiancee. That’s why, when he turned around to face you, you quickly understood what he was trying to say, both coming to the same conclusion and the precise same plot.
“Nevertheless how amazing this night is being, I would like to spend the rest of the night with my fiance. So, if you excuse us, I would like to leave!!”-You said, grabbing onto Baekhyun’s arm as you sticked yourself to him like glue.
“Oh come on man, we should party tonight!!”-Chanyeol whined but soon he too as assured that such thing wouldn’t happen as Aeri smashed her lips against his, shutting him up.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be okay. You’re right, you two should enjoy tonight so go ahead, I will take care of the bill.”-Yi Fan agreed, showing a sympathetic side that not many were used to. You hugged him, not knowing about other way as how you could thank him.
“You sure about that? It will probably be quite expensive.”-You told him worriedly.
“Rest assured Y/N, it’s not only rich heir Sehun and sucessful CEO Minseok that have money.”-Kris said chuckling as he patted your back.-”Take care of her Baek, she’s one of the good ones!”
You and Baekhyun bid your goodbyes, carefully walking towards your car as the chilly breeze of the night made itself felt. You wondered about when would be the perfect time to tell him the special surprise. You had just been so unexpectedly surprised with his marriage request that you had lost the path of how perfectly planed things were. You looked at the sky waiting for somewhat a sign that would assure you that the time had arrived, and when a shooting star made his way across the sky, you knew the time had came.
“Baek, I have something to tell you.”-You started as you stopped mid.track, mere meters away from the car.
“What about it love?”-He asked, lovingly caressing your cheek. You smiled at him, already knowing hor surprised but extremely happy he would be. It had alwaysbeen Baekhyun’s dream to have his own family, his own wife, his own children, his own house. It wasn’t few the times that you two spoke about it, after all you too shared the same dream.
“The surprise we previously spoke about in the car? Remember your birthday present? I think it finally came the time to tell you. Baekhyun, love, I’m pregnant.”-You said smiling from ear to ear, as a smile also teared his face apart.-”You’re going to be a dad!!”
Notes: I can’t believe I forgot I had the beggining of this scenario for so long in my drafts. As soon as I started to read it and remember what I had previously written, I knew I had to complete it. Please enjoy this fluffy scenario with cute Baek!! 
50 notes · View notes