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thelightsandtheroses · 6 months

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1: bad idea, right?

Let's Get Lost | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series | Next

You probably shouldn’t think it, but Frankie looks good sober. He looks even better on vacation.

It’s not fair really.

You’re standing in baggage collection, wishing your ex-boyfriend was the type to wear socks with sandals or stupid t-shirts and loud printed shirts. Crocs, even.

Instead, he’s right here next to you, looking so calm and relaxed with your daughter in his arms, letting her play with the brim of his baseball cap and no, no this is all wrong. You’re meant to be the one dazzling your ex with insouciant style and a glow up, not him.

Sobriety’s changed Frankie though. As he looks over at you now, you’re met with memories of the man you met so many years ago, the man you fell in love with.

Once upon a time you thought you would marry Frankie Morales.

In another world, maybe you did. Maybe in one universe, the two of you are heading to Hawaii for your wedding, not Benny and Lia’s. Maybe in that universe, you were able to work everything out.

You two were in love once after all. You’ve never loved anyone like you loved Frankie and you’re not sure you’ll ever will.

That wasn’t enough though.

You weren’t enough.

It’s hard to compete with the release found in a powder, or in a bottle. It’s just as hard to live with that fact too.

The tannoy sounds loudly around you, breaking you from your reverie. You hate this part of the holiday or travelling - hanging around an airport, the worries about flight tickets and passports. You want to skip immediately to the moment where you’re settled in your hotel room, ideally at the beach with a coconut water in one hand and your new book in the other.

It’s been a long day. Your flight was delayed by several hours due to staffing shortages, it’s the middle of the night and by now you’d planned be fast asleep, not standing in baggage reclaim with your ex-boyfriend, a tired daughter and one particularly drunk idiot five metres away.

You’re tired and hungry and Clara is about ten minutes from reaching her breaking point, however, ever since Frankie’s picked her up, she’s been beaming and like a completely different child to your utter betrayal.

You feel like you’ve run a half marathon but Frankie’s been right there with you and the man is practically glowing. It’s like

Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe you do really need this break.

“That’s the last one of ours,” he says lightly, looking at the battered suitcase in the distance and moving immediately to fetch it from the carousel, even with one arm taken by a tired toddler.

This seemed like such a good idea in theory.

You’re friends now, you’re co-parents, you’re both in the wedding party. It seemed obvious to do this - to give Clara an amazing holiday experience and memories with both of her parents, to ensure Benny and Lia have the wedding they deserve without your drama. It sounded so simple, so mature, at the time.

This is the first time the three of you have spent this much time together since the breakup though. You’ve both had a lot of mature conversations about what’s right for your child, what’s right for Benny and Lia too as it’s their wedding after all.

It’s easy in theory though. A simple diktat of ‘everyone needs to be on their very best behaviour.‘

This is going to be a disaster.

You meet Frankie at a coffee shop. There is a new barista in training and a long, slow-moving queue. You can smell the coffee aroma around, the siren’s song of freshly baked pastries calling to you.

This is your favourite coffee spot on the way to work and it’s usually quieter, usually easier to just slip in and out before heading to the office.

You shift awkwardly on the spot, mentally adding up if you still have enough to get coffee before work, if the barista is likely to be able to make the coffee how you like it, or if perhaps even thinking that makes you ungrateful and rude.

Then you see Frankie behind you. He is wearing a baseball cap, dark jeans, and a t-shirt. It’s not the hat that draws you in though- it’s his face. There’s this intense kindness in his eyes, in his features and you straight away feel drawn to him.

He’s exactly your type.

He speaks first, making polite small talk and his low, calm voice soothes the lingering anxiety about schedules and instead you just want to know about him.

You’re terrible with dating. The apps feel so impersonal and you’re always nervous about how you’ll make an impression, if you look the way you should, if Dateline is true and you’ll go on a date and never be seen again.

You’re not a romantic, not really, you think. You’d like to find someone though; you’d like to fall in love. You want that, you want it to feel organic.

So, when Frankie walks into your life, maybe it’s kismet.

He’s smart and funny and it’s so easy to talk to him and he asks for your number when you pick up your coffee from the counter, asks if he can call you. It feels right to say yes. You want to know him more, to get to know him, to just spend more time with him.

You’re almost wishing the queue would carry on, that the coffee would take longer just for an extra moment with him. You even take your time and hover around the cafe to wait for him to pick up his Americano so you can extend the moment.

“What do you do?” you ask casually as you step outside the cafe, taking a sip of your drink.

“Oh,” Frankie shuffles then looks up at you with a smile, “I’m a pilot.” He could have led with that you think to yourself , you know so many people who would be impressed by that job, and by the way he winks at you before heading in the opposite direction, he knows it too.

He texts you an hour later.

It feels like a book or a movie, all of your dreams and hopes finally coming off the page and into your real life.

You don’t know a lot about Frankie at that point, like the cafe is next to a NA meeting, or that Frankie has his demons. You don’t know that loving Frankie is bith the easiest thing in the world and being loved him feels like it could be everything. You don’t know that won’t be enough though, that plastic baggies and nightmares and a short reccy will systematically unravel every thread of your life with him in just a few years.

You can’t know that then and even if yoy had, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

Fate has its ways after all.

The hotel Benny and Lia are getting married in is stunning. You knew it was going to be an extravagant affair from talking to Lia and hearing vague murmurs about the planning over brief coffees and calls. You definitely got the impression from the cost of the hotel rooms when you were booking your stay, but this? This is like a scene from a movie.

Even in the pitch darkness, the spotlights on the pavement illuminated the building to show its luxurious facades and the reception was gleaming and bright. You can’t remember staying somewhere like this before.

It seems idyllic.

Seems being the operative word right now.

“Okay, but the apartment had two bedrooms,” you say, resting an elbow on the marble counter in exhaustion and frustration. “Two, that’s what I specifically booked. The family apartment. Now there’s a problem?” That had been the deal, you would take the one room with an extra cot for Clara and Frankie would have the other room so you could exist as the perfect co-parenting happy family you were at least trying to be for your kid.

It had been a good plan.

The receptionist’s bright demeanour falters momentarily and she looks at her computer screen instead of meeting your haze “Yes but appears there was a small glitch with the booking online and well - we checked the other family in earlier. We do have a room for you, of course.”

You look over at Frankie desperately. Of course there was a problem, you think, feeling the familiar sensation of tears burning in the back of your eyes.

You told Frankie you had sorted the hotel booking, you told him that it would all be okay and it’s a mess. You’re a mess.

“So, your system has glitched. However, we have either an apartment or a room, right? Good. Please can you confirm that the one you’ve put us in -” Frankie begins, his voice steady.

“It’s technically an upgrade,” she says brightly. “It opens out onto the beach and it’s actually one of my favourites.”

“That’s wonderful. Does it have two bedrooms though?” Frankie asks.

“No.”

Your face falls and you squeeze your eyes shut to fight the impending tears. You are exhausted and you made the right booking for the right room, how can this be happening to you?

“However, we have put a pull-out cot in the room for your daughter, so that should resolve your concerns over the bedrooms and the room really is a lovely one. It’s the grade above what you booked actually and the views are stunning. You even have a terrace as I said that opens on the beach and -“

“We’re not together,” you say bluntly. “That’s why we need separate rooms. We’re not together.” Your voice sounds almost plaintive now, repeating that you and Frankie are most definitely not a couple.

Not anymore.

“Oh. I - uh, I - we’re fully booked with the wedding,” she says in a small voice, tapping keys on her keyboard desperately as it if will magic an extra room into the universe. “I’m so sorry.”

You look at Frankie who shrugs as the two of you try and have a mental conversation.

“We’ll figure it out,” you say. “For tonight. Tomorrow we will need a better resolution.”

“I don’t know what we can do. I’ll - we’ll look into this for you.”

“Thanks. Alright, let’s get this munchkin to bed,” you say, looking at your daughter fast asleep in Frankie’s arms.

“Yeah, we’ll uh, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.”

“Honestly, you need this break,” Frankie says, leaning against a kitchen counter as you shake your head at him and concentrate on unloading the dishwasher.

“I have so much work and - do you think I want this? I don’t want to miss Lia’s wedding or seeing Clara in her dress -” The past few months have been difficult with work and while you’ve been so looking forward to a holiday and Lia’s wedding, it’s starting to feel impossible.

“So don’t,” Frankie says, shaking his head.

“It’s not that simple. My job -”

“Oh, honestly, fuck your job.” Frankie runs his hand over his face, removing his cap and squeezing it awkwardly.

“I have a mortgage and I can’t just - I can’t just leave things.”

“You’re burnt out,” Frankie interjects in a low voice, “Everyone sees it. Lia’s worried about you too, she told Benny.”

“Traitor.”

“I’m worried about you too. You have the PTO already booked off and our daughter is so excited about all of us going together.”

“I know,” you say, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I know.”

Frankie moves over sintantly, placing a hand delicately on your shoulder. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a job, I know that.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

“You’re not, you’re definitely not. I can promise you that.”

You look up between bleary tear-filled eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me, Frankie?” He doesn’t need to be nice to you anymore; you’re not together, you’re just co-parents.

“You’re still - still important to me. We’re friends again, right?”

You nod. You are friends again; it’s taken some time to reach this point but you missed having Frankie in your life. This sober Frankie before you? He’s someone you want to be your friend again too.

“Please don’t try and tell me you’re not going to your best friend’s wedding again. We’re all going. It will be good.”

Despite the late hour of your arrival, you can immediately tell the hotel room is special. It’s too dark to see out towards the terrace but the wide French doors are already inviting you out and you have visions of sitting there in the morning with a cup of coffee. The furnishings are white and blue, the classic coastal colour scheme, with rich dark wood furniture. What you can see of the bathroom looks great as well.

The problem is the two armchairs instead of a sofa, the tiny rollaway cot for Clara and the giant king size bed in the room.

Normally, the crisp white sheets would be all to inviting, but in this scenario you feel panicked.

How are you going to work this out? You thought the pull-out bed would be large enough for one of you, or that there would at least be a sofa.

The priority has been Clara and getting her ready for bed and asleep as soon as possible.

Now though, the two of you are standing awkwardly.

“You should take the bed,” he says, “I know things have been a lot recently and you should have it anyway, but -”

“Where would you sleep?”

“There’s a bathtub, right?” Frankie says calmly. “I could get the blankets and I could sleep there tonight.”

“You can’t sleep in a bathtub, Frankie!“

“Why not? I’ve slept in worst places when I was a pilot.”

“Exactly what about your back? Same for me, I guess - I’m getting flashbacks of drunken house parties now.”

“Oh really?” Frankie smiles.

“Long time ago,” you say, looking down at your daughter who is now tucked into the cot and is already asleep.

Your eyes feel so heavy with tired and you’re dying to have a shower and then curl up for the night so the holiday can properly start in the morning.

Frankie looks similarly fraught; his brow is furrowed and he’s perched on an arm of the armchair.

“We’re grown-ups, right?” you ask after a moment.

“So they keep telling me,” he replies with mischief in his eyes.

“Okay, then we’ll talk to the hotel in the morning, get this sorted out for good, but it’s one night, Frankie, and I am fucking exhausted.” You look over at Frankie. “It’s a big enough bed and there are enough pillows that we can - yes, yes, that’s the only option, isn’t it?” You nod your head; certain this is the only solution now. You’re tired and you desperately want to sleep and just hope that tomorrow will be better when you wake up.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Do you have a better idea? And the bathtub is not an option, Frankie.”

Frankie thinks for a moment and shakes his head.

“Do you still sleep on the same side?” Frankie asks in a low voice, rubbing his hair and exposing a hint of his stomach and automatically moving to the other side of the bed.

You nod and awkwardly put your phone on the bedside table and get into your side of the bed. “You?”

“It’s fine.” You remember that Frankie used to like the same side of the bed too, he’d use that as an excuse whenever you woke up in his arms each morning.

This is going to be so much harder than you thought it would be.

“Was this necessary?” Frankie asks, pointing at the barrier of pillows.

“I didn’t want either of us to feel uncomfortable,” you say simply and your voice feels small.

“It’s fine, it’s all good.”

“I don’t even know why I did it.”

“It’s not a big deal, okay?” Frankie gets into his side of the bed, barely stifling a yawn. Maybe the day is finally catching up with him. In the dim light of the bedside tables, you can see the exhaustion starting to fill his eyes, the tiredness on his face.

“Still can’t believe you were going to sleep in the bathtub anyway!”

”It seemed a good idea at the time. Hey, she’s fast asleep,” Frankie says with a smile, indicating your daughter who is safely tucked into her own bed. “Y’know, I wanted to say thanks for this.”

“You’re the one who persuaded me not to stay and work.” You smile and shake your head as you slip into the covers. “Can’t believe I almost considered that.” Though in fairness, you wouldn’t be dealing with this hotel room drama if you were at home. You wouldn’t be with Clara though. “Besides, Lia’s my friend too and you had a good idea with combining this with something for Clara. I want her to grow up and know we’re not fighting each other and that we’re on the same side. She’s our priority, right?”

‘’Always.”

“Besides, I’ve never stayed somewhere like this before.”

“Me either.”

“You travelled everywhere in the army.”

“Oh, darling, you have very different ideas about life in the army. I stayed in dorms or safe-houses or outside.” You notice the way his smile falters slightly, his eyes haunted by the ghosts of a short reccy that turned into days of worry and anguish. All Frankie came back with were bad dreams and enough trauma to send him straight to the escape of his vices.

“I’m sorry about the room.”

“It’s not on you. Besides, it’s one night. We’ll sort it out properly tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s just one night,” you repeat.

“Huh, heard that one before,” Frankie says sadly and before you can think about what he’s just said, he turns to the other side of the wall.

Usually you listen to a meditation or a sleep story to drift away. You like the harmless, ambient noise and dulcet tones of someone else to lull the stresses of the day away.

You can’t do that with Frankie here though and your second option for sleeplessness … absolutely not.

You switch off the light and exhale slowly. You’ll be fine, you can count sheep or try that breathing technique you read about. It’s just you’re so tired now you don’t even feel like sleeping now.

“You okay?” a low voice asks quietly.

“I hate the first night in a new bed.”

“I remember.”

“It’s fine.”

You turn over so you’re facing Frankie’s side. In the darkness of the room, all you can see is the silhouette of the many pillows separating the two of you and the broad outline of his shoulders.

You remember nights kissing the freckles on his neck, his shoulders, being so incontrovertibly in love with this man you thought you could spend forever in bed with him. You’d have spent forever anywhere with him once.

You’ve dated since Frankie, you know he has as well, but somehow the finality of the very barrier that you created is pulling at your heartstrings right now. It’s all wrong.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

This is going to be a long week.

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edytae · 1 year

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Best Dad-dy (smut) Kim Taehyung x reader

Could Taehyung be any happier? He had a well-paying and satisfying job, an excellent wife, and an adorable little son. Things were difficult, but with your help, he solved every problem on his way. All of the challenges paid off and he ended up with his dream life.

pairing: Taehyung x (female) reader

summary: Taehyung proves that he is the best dad.

rating: 18+, flufffy fluff, smuttty smut, mature, do not interact if you are underage

genre/warnings: DILF TAEHYUNG, Taehyung being a great dad, unprotected sex, a minor breeding kink, name calling, as always Taehyung speaks dirty.

word count: 10.5K

A/N1: First of all, IT IS A SHAME THAT THERE IS NOT ENOUGH DAD!TAEHYUNG FIC. WE MUST BE ASHAMED OF OURSELF.

A/N2: Please don’t mind spelling and grammar errors.

A/N3: If you like to check my other work, here is my masterlist filled with Taehyung smut.

If you like this, you will LOVE Norway, and you will like i’m mad and Spoiled.

———————

Your little boy ran towards his daddy’s car. It was impressive how he could recognise it in the middle of a semi-closed garage. “Appa,” the little boy called.

“Is Appa there?” You followed him to the back of the car while your son shook his head on the verge of crying.

Your beautiful son Daehyung had a fever and spent the weekend mostly in bed with his father. You weren’t calm as you thought you would be and quickly called Taehyung’s mum to visit you. She was ever-lovely and soothed you in your worries. It was very normal for your little baby to get sick as he started to walk and play at the park. Despite all that, you were eager to check his temperature every hour and watch him all night.

Taehyung wasn’t much different. He tried to look calm for you, but he was quite worried. Daehyun, being the dad’s best boy, only stopped crying in Taehyung’s arms; so two of your precious boys spent all weekend cuddling.

It was Monday now. Taehyung was at work, so this morning had started with a crying disaster as your son wanted his father. He had spent all morning running in the house with Yeontan on his side to look for his father. Poor Yeontan just stuck to the baby’s side, but quickly gave up and fell asleep in his corner.

After having breakfast, you tidied around the room briefly, took out two pieces of chicken to thaw and did a load of laundry. Meanwhile, Daehyun seemed occupied with the rainbow block set that Taehyung’s brother got for him. However, the quiet time didn’t last long and Daehyun started to throw a tantrum around noon.

So you decided to take your human and dog babies for a walk. Daehyun dozed off as soon as you stepped outside, leaving you in shock.

After 10 minute walk, you arrived at your in-laws’ house for lunch. They were excited to see you and their grandchildren. Daehyun ran up and down the corridor with his uncle and played train with his grandfather. Taehyung's family’s love seemed to entertain Daehyun as he went in circles and was adored by them. During lunch, he chased Yeontan to feed him and the poor dog climbed on the TV unit because of the crazy attention. While Daehyun ran his terror amongst the Kim family, you chat with your mother-in-law about the cleaning person that she found for help.

You had pretty tough labour that lasted for almost two days. Taehyung was with you in every second of it. From the first entrance to the hospital to getting your epidural, counting your contractions, and having your baby boy in your arms. He felt guilty for your pain. He was there for you as a strong husband— even though he started weeping as soon as he saw Daehyun.

Postpartum wasn’t easy either. During birth, your doctor had to push the baby herself to help you out. So she had pressed down to your left ribs, just under your lungs with all of her strength. It was a very needed move for the birth, but you still suffer the crude pain for months. Additionally, the stitches were absolutely painful. On top of everything, you were bound to an infant with all of his life depended on you. The only thing you did during that time was to eat and feed. Without your husband and his family’s help, you could never last long.

The overall recovery lasted around 3 months challenging you both mentally and physically. The only thing Taehyung could think about was you and his baby. Even though Taehyung had to go back to work after a week, he constantly called you or just face-timed you as he worked.

Also, his parents were always loving and supportive. Taehyung’s mother had become your holy source for motherhood knowledge. She came to your house as Taehyung was leaving for work and helped you with everything for the first three months. She did the laundry, cleaning, cooking, everything.

Taehyung’s father was active in every event as well, and he showed his affection directly— which was something you weren’t familiar with. He had taken care of many things related to the baby’s citizenship and health insurance. They were doting parents but worshipping grandparents.

However, the most perfect grandparents couldn’t keep Daehyun busy for long. The little boy was quick to remember the absence of his father. No game, no toy or no snack could replace his father. So after his noon nap, he was back to being moody.

After dropping Yeontan at your in-laws’ house —God knows that dog deserves the fattest steak on earth after bearing a crying baby for two days— you brought your baby to Taehyung’s office. The distance was a bit long, you walked 30 minutes with Daehyun in his carrier that is strapped to your chest. On the walk to his dad’s office in downtown, Daehyun looked around tentatively and pointed various things at you. Many passers-by were taken by his cuteness and playfulness.

“Let’s go to the Appa’s office!” you exclaimed. Your little son raised his arms so you could pick him up. It was 16:50 so Taehyung’s shift was going to end on a high note. You entered the main building from the garage and took the elevator to the main area.

You introduced yourself to the young man in the reception area “Hello, I am here for Kim Taehyung. Can you let him know?” you asked politely. The receptionist nodded his head tiredly. Who knows how many people asked him the same question?

You didn’t want to stand in front of the desk as it was pretty intimidating. Also, Daehyun was trying to get himself off of his carrier.

“You saw the fish tank, didn’t you?” Daehyun’s eyes were fixed on the bubbling fish tank that was on the wall. As soon as you let him down, his little legs ran towards the wall. His eyes got enlarged and carefully examined the colourful fishes. He tried to knock on the glass but his small hands were too weak.

“Mr Kim awaits you in his room. 7th floor, the second room on the left. His assistant will help you.” The receptionist talked slowly and clicked on the lift for you.

“Daehyun, let’s see Appa,” you picked your baby up again and entered the elevator. During the ride, Daehyun made funny faces and licked all the microbes on his hands.

When the lift’s door opened, you entered a fairly quiet area. Doors of two rooms out of four were opened, one of which belonged to your husband. The assistant’s desk was empty, however, there were boxes everywhere.

You timidly made your way to your husband’s open door. You saw his back standing while another man was on a stool. “Knock, knock,” you said.

Taehyung immediately turned with a big smile on his face. Daehyun just noticed his father and started squealing on your arms. “My love,” Taehyung kissed your forehead immediately whilst holding your nape. “Welcome baby,” he whispered to you.

Daehyun squealed louder and kicked his father for attention. “Oh, my son is here to see Appa.” Taehyung picked up the crazy toddler as Daehyun kept squealing. “Hooray!” Taehyung tossed Daehyun up.

“He will throw up, don’t do that.” You tried to intervene but both of your boys’ laughs brought a warm smile to your face. “No, my son won’t throw up on me, right baby?”

Taehyung and his shoulders experienced endless vomiting, but you still didn’t want to get it on his work shirts, especially the ones that made him look extra hot. Taehyung tossed Daehyun up once more and watched his baby laugh warmly. Daehyun held his father’s chin with his drool-covered hands as he kept giggling at the feeling.

Right then, you realised the room was much more crowded than you expected. You hazily remembered some of them from last year’s company party. “Y/N, darling, meet my coworkers.” Taehyung gestured to three men in their early thirties. You briefly shook hands with them. Your handsome husband was promoted to be a mid-level principal architect a month ago, so these people were very much strangers to you.

Despite your smile, Taehyung sensed how tired you were. “I have some unboxing left. I want to finish them before we leave if that’s OK for you, darling.” Taehyung held your hand with one hand and Daehyun with the other. His lips curled up timidly, weighing your reaction. You couldn’t help but smile at the big bear in front of you. “Of course darling.” You approved as he brought your hand to his mouth and placed small kisses on it.

“Here, you sit on my chair wifey, and I will take care of it quickly.” He made you sit on the large leather chair whilst holding Daehyun, his biceps bulging attractively. He was already freaking hot and being considerate was making him annoyingly sexy. “Welcome to your office again, Taehyung. We should leave now, see you tomorrow.” All of his co-workers got his cue from the eldest-looking one and left the room.

As they were leaving, two young girls and one boy rushed into the room with glasses in their hands. “We brought tea-” One of them babbled while holding the tray. The eldest co-worker led them out too.

“Why are you serving tea at the end of the shift?!” A yell came from the corridor. “Ladies and gents, we should clean this mess now. We will have other stuff coming up tomorrow!”

Just like that everyone left Taehyung’s room. “Baby?” Taehyung inquired. “Are you tired, my love?” he asked with a concerned face as he saw you close your eyes with a relaxed sigh. You nodded, “Daehyun is a big naysayer without you at home.” As you spoke, your son hid his face in his father’s neck.

“Really?” Taehyung’s lips curled up, he was amused. “Yes, we looked for you around the house all morning.” You remembered Daehyun running between rooms with only a diaper on.

“Daehyun, don’t make Mommy tired!” Taehyung said to his son ever lovingly. He was the best father ever. “No!!” Daehyun repeated and shot a smile at you. Even with a few teeth, you were gladly sure that he had his father’s boxy smile.

Then, Taehyung put the toddler down and kept unboxing it. “Your new office looks nice,” You commented. He was promoted recently, but his office was under renovation. “They really don’t want you to quit,”

This job was the second job he landed after university. It was a large architecture company that designed malls, residences and even city halls. The company was fairly new at that time so it needed core, hardworking employees. However, as with any corporate job, it was very stressful. During your first months of pregnancy, many of Taehyung’s school friends quit their jobs here due to fierce competition.

You encouraged Taehyung to do the same, you were a hundred per cent sure that he could find another job, or else you guys could move back to France where your father would gladly refer him to many of his business friends.

But Taehyung couldn’t bring himself to be unemployed as there was a baby on the road. After six months of mental warfare, the company was sold to a much more modern person, and the new Board of Directors valued the employees. As a result, your hardworking husband quickly climbed the succession ladders.

Taehyung didn’t see himself as a white-collar until retirement. At one point he was going to start his own business. However, he needed more experience and financial power to do so.

“Apparently, I will work for 4 days a week during the winter season. At least I will not come to the office.” Taehyung announced. You smiled at your hard-working husband and your eyes teared.

“You are amazing, Taehyung.” You quavered. All the emotions boiled up inside you. Taehyung’s shoulder shot up and quickly kneeled in front of you. “Only because I have a perfect wife.” He held your hands on your lap and looked into your eyes dearly.

His brown bangs were beautifully covering his forehead, his defined eyebrows were relaxed. His chocolate eyes were gleaming right at you, his lips were pressed together, and his mole was waving you hello from his nose. “My love,” Taehyung held your shoulders and gave you a small kiss on the cheek. All of your tiredness was eradicated with his gentle touch.

“You know what?” Taehyung checked your son. “You should visit me alone next time.” His naughty tone already indicated his intentions, his arms wrapped around your thighs from where he was kneeling.

“We have to have sex on my desk at least.” You laughed at your ever-horny husband as he kissed your knees. “Or, I should eat you out under the table. Mhmm, babygirl, my sexy baby mama…” You blushed but you were surely down for it. “Office sex?” You asked him as his eyes ran all over your body as if you were wearing the sexiest lingerie, not jeans with a basic shirt. “Mhmm, of course, I want my wife all the time.” He kissed your knuckles a bit seductively as Daehyun started to play with magazines babbling to himself. You snickered at the little baby, cock-blocking his father.

“Daehyun, come on. Help Appa put these up.” Taehyung loved spending time with his baby more than ever. As a child, he always admired his father, and now he only had one goal: to be an admirable father.

The little baby always fascinated his father with his intelligence. Last winter, Daehyun once pointed at the snow and said “Brr”. According to Taehyung, it was a sign of high intellect and that he will become an engineer in future.

Plus, Daehyun was energetic and goofy like his father. The little boy always did his best to make others laugh. Just today, he sat on the TV remote and told his grandfather that the remote went on a trip — what you always say when his noisy toys go missing.

Taehyung placed the box with various stationery in front of your baby. As the little boy played with clear tape, your sexy husband dealt with the rest. “Do you want me to help?” you asked as Taetae reached for the top shelf.

“No need, my baby mama.” He talked cutely on top of a stool. As he reached up, his bubble butt looked bigger.

“Your butt looks so sexy, baby.” You blurred out the bare truth. He looked stunning in smart office outfits— much different from the weird print shirts you met him in. Formal trousers hugged perfectly at his butt and accentuated his small waist. “Hmm, be a good girl and I will let you touch it.” He shook his ass to the sides.

“Appa,” Daehyun pointed to his father and got up as well. Two of you locked on his movements as the little boy shook his butt too. You started laughing at the cuteness. “Does Appa shake his butt?” You asked him and the little boy did it again to amuse you.

Taehyung scowled, “Do you laugh at Appa?” He slowly approached the little boy and picked him up. Daehyun squealed with happiness. “Are you laughing at Appa?” Taehyung asked and Daehyun kept giggling.

Then, his father tossed him up — yet his hands never left Daehyun’s body. Taehyung stopped soon after. Then, he tickled the little boy and kissed him all over his tummy while holding him above his head.

“Did you know that Mommy shakes her butt better?” Taehyung playfully talked to Daehyun. The little boy, of course, didn’t understand anything at all. “She used to dance on me all night.” You rolled your eyes at him.

You and Taehyung met when he visited France as an exchange student. One of your friends from the architecture major was assigned to show Taehyung around. Through that friend, you met Taehyung and fell in love within a month. During that semester, you dragged him to all the bars and pubs on Paris streets. Cheap alcohol and immense attraction toward each other meant there was a lot of kissing, grabbing, and grinding. Both of you would get a bit tipsy and make out in dark streets all night.

You were crazy on the outside but totally shy inside. Despite all of your grinds on him, sometimes you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Taehyung.

Taehyung was completely the opposite. If you weren’t so eager, he wouldn’t touch you that aggressively. However, once he got more comfortable, the freak inside of him revealed himself.

You still remember being warmed by Taehyung’s large arms around you and swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music. He would occasionally groan to your ear—letting you know how much he loved your little moves.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. “Mr Kim, do you need some help?” a young woman asked Taehyung, trying to avoid eye contact. “I don’t, thanks.” Taehyung's voice suddenly became ice-cold.

“What about something to drink?” she asked again. Her body was tilted against the door.

“Do you want to drink something, my love?” Taehyung asked you. You shook your head. “I am fine. Thank you.”

“My wife and I are good Miss…?” Taehyung didn’t know this lady’s name but saw her around a lot. “Jeon-” The girl uttered.

Taehyung let a second of silence pass. “I would be pleased if you and your intern friends didn’t wander around. You are here for work, not gossiping.” Taehyung set the distance sharply. “Also, your job isn’t coffee service, please act accordingly.” The young girl bowed quickly and left the room.

“Ouch,” You remarked Taehyung’s bitterness.

“What?” Taehyung shrugged. “All they do is talk all day.” He sounded like your old bosses. “Yeah, because they are still students!” You exclaimed. Expecting interns to act like full professionals was dumb in your opinion.

“They kept flirting with your husband though.” Taehyung placed a wooden pencil holder on his desk and shrugged with a pout on his lips. “Mhmm, well, I would do too if my supervisor was this hot.” You sneakily hugged his back. Your small frame tried to engulf him as your chest pressed against his broad back.

Taehyung chuckled at your comment. “Hmm, you are feeding my office fantasy, babygirl.” He turned his face to you and whispered in your ear. “It wouldn’t take much for me to get me on my knees if you were my intern.” Taehyung turned his face to you and wrapped his arm around you. You giggled, "Oh, Mr Kim, that’s very flattering…"

Taehyung kissed a tiny trail on your neck, “I heard that the finance department could make room for my intelligent wife,” His large hands grasped your ass.

You brushed his nose with yours, "Yeah? Only if you promise to fuck me every lunch break." As soon as you flirted back, Taehyung's cock shifted in its confines.

"You know I am a weak whore when it comes to you, wifey." Taehyung confessed dearly, making you laugh again.

"I know, baby, you-" Right then, a voice belonging to a small person cut the sweet scene.

“Mommy,” Daehyun called for you. Your baby was still very much dependent on you. The little boy was still sitting next to the pile of magazines. “Milk,” he said, reaching for your arms. You smiled at his soft eyes looking at you.

Daehyun ate solids perfectly, but he still wanted to be breastfed, and you wanted it too. It was a bonding experience you and your baby shared. Probably he was never going to remember those moments, but you had every second engraved in your brain. Also, breastfeeding was good for his health too. With the approval of your doctor and your mother-in-law, you decided to breastfeed him as long as possible.

“Come, my baby boy.” You picked him up; however, you still had his baby carrier on. When your hands tried to lose the knots, Taehyung’s hands stopped you. “Let me help you, gorgeous,” his hands skillfully replaced yours. He got rid of the carrier and brought the blue diaper bag. It was the end of March but you still carried a blanket with you just in case. Taehyung took the blanket out and guided you to sit on his leather chair.

You undid your pants to release your T-shirt whilst holding your baby. Meanwhile, Taehyung closed the blinds and locked the door. You didn’t care about nudity when it came to feeding your child. Your breasts were just tools to feed your baby, not a sexual thing for you. However, Taehyung got uncomfortable when you whipped out your breast outside of the home. He was scared of someone looking at it indecently; even the possibility made his blood boil.

Breastfeeding also introduced you to front-closure bras. They were a bit awkward at first but very convenient. As your left tit dropped out, Daehyun pushed his legs up with excitement. Taehyung chuckled, “Like father, like son.”

You rolled your eyes and got comfortable on the chair. Breastfeeding lasted anywhere from 25 to 30 minutes when Daehyun was hungry. He could go longer if the little boy wanted attention.

“Rest your legs up, darling.” Taehyung dragged one of the visitor chairs to rest your legs up. He carefully removed your sneakers and lifted them. During your pregnancy, he massaged them for you.

He kissed your forehead with a big content sigh. Could Taehyung be any happier? He had a well-paying and satisfying job, an excellent wife, and an adorable little son. Things were difficult, but with your help, he solved every problem on his way. All of the challenges paid off and he ended up with his dream life.

Taehyung got back to unpacking the last two boxes before leaving: one box from his old office and the other from one box filled with printing paper. He slowly opened the second box and put a stack of paper in the printer.

The other box was already open. His tea mug was on top with his blue and black pens in it. It also had rubber bands around them. The promotion letter was in the box too with other random papers. Then, there were framed pictures of his family: his most precious treasures.

The first frame was from the wedding. His large arms were wrapped around your waist and your hands were on his chest — a classic wedding photo. Your angelic smile was radiating even from the picture. It was the reminder of a wonderful life he began with you.

The other frame was from Daehyun’s first trip to France. Last summer, you visited your family’s summer house in southern France. You and Taehyung travelled frequently as a young couple. Both of you usually stayed at shitty motels or camped outside. Sometimes you guys just didn’t sleep at all.

However, with Daehyun, you had to carefully plan your holidays. This picture was from one of those carefully planned holidays, taken in a marina near a couple of tourist attractions. You had a red summer dress and Taehyung had a tropical flowered blouse with white shorts— the biggest DILF energy. On the other hand, Daehyun had a long-sleeved shirt and long pants with a bucket head. He had sunscreen all over his face. Taehyung was holding Daehyun on his side and hugging you. It was tiring but the most fun holiday Taehyung ever had. Daehyun was still so young, but he was willing to do everything with his dad. Taehyung built sandcastles with his son on the beach and swam in the gorgeous blue sea. Plus, seeing you in your bikini with Daehyun in your arms was a splendid sight. Taehyung smacked your ass with his wet cold hands when you lay under the umbrella and showed your sexy body to everyone.

The last picture was of you and him again, kissing each other in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was probably taken two or three months into dating. Taehyung looked at himself in the picture. What he was seeing basically seemed like a child to him. If he saw that 22 years-old-Taehyung, he would say: “Don’t give up on your love no matter what. She is going to give you a reason to live.” Then, he looked at your figure in the picture. You could get mistaken as a teenager even though you were a year younger than him. Your face was rounder in the picture. Your fingers were holding his face as both of you shared a kiss.

Taehyung reminisced about the past while a big lump sat in his throat. He still couldn’t believe that you were his wife the mother of his children, and his life partner.

“Baby,” Taehyung softly called for you. Your tired eyes found him, then the picture he was holding.

You smiled at him as Daehyun slurped at your nipple. Taehyung chuckled and left everything on his desk to look at his baby boy.

“Is it yummy?” Taehyung asked, resting his face on your shoulder. Daehyun’s eyes looked over his father’s face whilst innocently drinking milk. As your husband seemed to be enchanted by the little boy, you kissed his cheek. Taehyung immediately gave you his famous boxy smile. “My gorgeous wife,” he sighed to the crook of your neck and peppered a few kisses onto your skin. Then, Daehyun slurped at your nipple again. It was a sign that the little baby was feeling sleepy.

“Okay, now I am getting jealous,” Taehyung told Daehyun who could barely open his eyes. “Sshh, he is going to sleep in seconds.” Just as you said, Daehyun released your nipple. Sometimes he would wake up from his sleep and continue drinking, so you usually waited a few minutes to make sure he was sleeping. Taehyung chuckled as his son fell asleep his mouth open, his cute double chin was, of course, covered with drool.

“He sleeps like you,” You commented lovingly and your finger softly pushed Daehyun’s chin to close his mouth. As he felt your touch, the little boy opened his mouth and aimed for your nipple again.

“Wow,” Taehyung said dramatically. “That’s- that’s living life.” he scoffed and his brows furrowed. You looked at him confused, “Sleeping in your arms and suckling your nipples at any place without question must be good, huh.”

This time you scoffed at his behaviour. “Do you realise he is your son?” You silently opposed. “It’s against bro code anyway!” Taehyung pouted.

After 10 minutes of breastfeeding and a catastrophic burp on Taehyung’s new chair, your son was asleep in your arms. Taehyung also finished decorating the four shelves behind his desk and watched his little man in your arms. “Darling, can you carry him to the car?” you asked while Taehyung wore his suit jacket. Your arms were tired of holding him steadily to your chest. “Of course, love.” Taehyung sounded a bit worried, thinking that he doesn’t do enough for you.

You slowly stood up and handed Daehyun to Taehyung’s large arms. He held his treasure delicately and laid him on his shoulder. Your joints cracked loudly during the process due to not moving. As Taehyung cooed Daehyun’s back, you covered his little body with a blanket; voila, the hottest dilf you have ever seen was created before you. Taehyung raised his eyebrows at your giggling, “What?”

You shrugged, “You look really hot with our baby in your arms. THE biggest dilf energy I felt ever.” you held your crotch dramatically as Taehyung giggled. “Maybe you should fuck me,” he slapped your ass with one hand as you tidied yourself up.

Then, you took the diaper bag and pushed his chair back in place. After one last check, you opened the door to leave.

The corridor was more crowded than you expected. Some of the co-workers were still chatting at the secretary’s desk. As you walked towards them, Taehyung’s fingers intertwined with yours. “That’s better,” he mumbled.

“Ahh, Taehyung! Is that your son?” a high voice filled the corridor. Taehyung instinctively stepped back, checking on his son. Who could scream this loud in the workplace? You furrowed your brows.

Taehyung shushed the screaming lady. “Uh, I am sorry,” she quickly said, completely ignoring you. Others bowed as both of you came closer. “Mrs Park, look at this cutie!” This time she was quiet with an excited voice. An older woman came over to the desk to see Daehyun. “Oh, little sleepy boy,” she said with a lower voice. “He is adorable, Mr Kim.” she continued.

“Well, I didn’t have anything to do with that. That’s all thanks to my wife..” Taehyung pulled you close to him proudly and wrapped his hand around your waist. You blushed as everybody looked at you. “Of course,” Mrs Park nodded, you highly doubted if she meant it.

“We should before he gets cold.” Taehyung exchanged goodbyes and both of you walked towards the lift.

Thankfully, Daehyun was still soundly asleep in his dad’s arms. Taehyung clicked on the lift’s button and stood tall in front of you.

“Should we get take-outs?” He asked quietly.

You immediately opposed, “No, I got some chicken out of the freezer. We will have chicken soup, you know the flu season is hard this year, and we have leftovers from yesterday.” Your chicken soup was something Taehyung could never say no to. It was his comfort food.

“Hmm, my day goes super well. First, your visit; then, chicken soup. Oh, fuck, I love it when you wife me.” Taehyung held and kissed your knuckles slowly.

As both of you entered the empty lift cabin Taehyung buried his nose into his baby’s cheek, “He smells so sweet. I can’t get enough.”

Yes, Daehyun’s baby smell was incredible. You laughed at him, “He smells like milk and his gorgeous mother,” Taehyung slowly kissed Daehyun’s cheek and wrapped the blanket tightly. “You still have the baby seat, right?” You remembered Taehyung taking it off as the car went to the repair shop last week.

“It is in the boot baby, don’t worry.” Both of you got off the lift and walked to the car. Taehyung’s face glowed under the afternoon sun, his bangs covering his gorgeous forehead. His jaw was clenched, focused on carrying Daehyun safely. The grey suit fitted him perfectly and gave off the sexiest young professional feels. The top two shirt buttons were undone, revealing his honey-coloured skin. When you got closer to the car, Taehyung clicked the button. “Do you wanna drive?” You looked at the big scary black jeep and shook your head. “Noppee.”

You got your driving license when you were 20 years old and have probably driven about three times since then. Taehyung knew that you weren’t a confident driver, so he wanted to encourage you to start driving. With Daehyun growing up, he wanted you to have more freedom. “Come on, baby…” Taehyung tried insisting.

“Nah, I want to watch my husband drive. Why did I marry you if you weren’t going to be my personal chauffeur?” Taehyung was more than happy to drive you anywhere you want. However, he had serious plans of getting you a car as an anniversary gift, so he was testing the waters to be sure. “Is it because Noire is large?” Taehyung asked.

And yes, he named his car Noire after the bar name he met you in Paris. He gave Daehyun to you slowly and took off the baby seat from the boot. “No, it is not that. It is just- I feel so worried even with the thought of sitting in the driver’s seat.” You complained while he secured the baby seat.

After placing Daehyun carefully, he called you. “Wait, wait.”

“I want to open the door for my princess- for my queen.” His loving hands held you and opened the door. “Mademoiselle, please.” He politely bowed to you.

You let him help you sit on your seat, “I am a married woman, Monsieur. It should be Madame.” Your sexy role-play went immediately to his dick. Fuck, yes, you were his wife. “My apologies, Madame. Please let me make it up.” Taehyung kept playing his role. Before you can speak, his lips moulded against yours in a warm hug. You hummed into the kiss as he pulled you tighter. His sweet taste and smell filled up every bud on your body, and your brain quickly relaxed in his touch. Taehyung dipped his tongue into your mouth and scraped it against the roof of your mouth.

"Mmhmm, tastes like my fucking wife." Taehyung licked his lips and moaned at your taste. But you couldn't care less, the only thing your mind was focused on was feeling his lips on yours again. So you pulled him down by his tie and connected your lips. Taehyung got your message and started kissing your lips even messier, caressing your boobs on the way.

You squeezed his shoulders while moaning, “Taetae, we are out.” You hid your face on his shoulders. “So? We did nastier things in public, wifey.” He whispered to your ear as you whimpered. Your body jolted against him as he dived deeper. “Mhmm, I remember.” This time you spread your legs and pull him closer. You remembered how he used to fuck you in his old red Toyota car in between lectures, or on study breaks. It was probably the steamiest sexy you guys ever had.

“I love you, babygirl.” He kissed the top of your head and went around the car to get into his seat.

The drive back home went quiet. Taehyung occasionally grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, his hands sometimes rubbed your thighs too. You watched your husband skillfully drive in the hectic rush hour traffic whilst listening to smooth jazz. As Taehyung parked at your apartment complex’s garage, Daehyun was looking out with his large doe eyes. “Baby, did you wake up?” Taehyung looked at his smiley son from the rear-view mirror.

Daehyun wiggled his legs to set himself free from the seat belt. “Appa will get you, wait for me.” Your husband called. In return, Daehyun squealed with an excited toss.

You too got out of the car whilst your two cute babies laughed. Your tiredness didn’t matter when you saw Taehyung and Daehyun having the greatest fun.

While you closed the doors, Taehyung let out a big laugh. “He has the nastiest diaper. What have you done, Daehyun?” Your little boy was laughing at his dad's reaction. “Oh no, we need air support.” Taehyung raised Daehyun up and made helicopter noises. You kept giggling at the sight.

When you entered the house, Taehyung took off his and Daehyun’s clothes and bathed him. It was the only way to get rid of that much poop, he said. Meanwhile, you heated the leftovers and finished making the chicken soup. As the soup simmered on the stove, you checked up on your boys. Of course, they were on your big bed cuddling each other. Taehyung got the heating panel up so the little baby boy could show off his tummy to his father without getting cold. Taehyung was only wearing boxers as well. His body was very distracting…

“Oh, did my two little boys have a bath?” Daehyun smiled from the bed, he was trying to roll onto his tummy. “Did you bathe with Appa, my baby?” You lay down next to your cute baby while his father picked up the wet towels on the bed. His body was wet, abs waving hello to you. His pectorals were flexing as he noticed your gaze. His black boxers were wet. His leg muscles were to die for, all those walking during his early 20s had apparently paid off.

“My sweet baby smells amazing!” You smelt Daehyun’s arms. The little boy reached for your hair in return and playfully tugged it. “Does Appa smell nice?” Taehyung asked, lying down next to Deahyung. “Hmm, let’s see.” You rubbed your chin as the little boy between you watched tentatively. Taehyung extended his arm for you to smell it. “Yes!” You squealed. “Appa smells amazing!” Deahyung tossed his little legs up at your excitement and turned to his dad. His little arms pushed him up to his knees. Then, he buried his small face into his dad’s elbow. “Appa ama-in-”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. He imitated the way you widen your eyes as you spoke. Taehyung helped the little boy sit down. “How about Mommy?” He asked your son while winking at him. Taehyung’s large arms slowly crept on you. “I am going to smell Mommy.” He was imitating a villain’s voice. “Mommy,” your little baby jumped on you before his dad could hug you. The hug surprised you and almost brought you to tears. “My mommy,” Daehyun laid on your chest as Taehyung caught his legs. This time Daehyun shrieked. Just like that, your husband and son started wrestling. Daehyun giggled continuously. He extended his arms to you as Taehyung held him up with his left hand. Daehyun kept giggling and he drooled down onto his dad’s arm.

“Oh no, Daehyun is flying again!” you snickered at the situation. Not long after, Taehyung lowered Daehyun to his chest and pulled you close to him. “Mhmm, Mommy smells amazing too!” Taehyung kissed your forehead. “My Mommy!” Again, Daehyun wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled his little body onto you. As their energy levels dropped, you got a good cuddling session with your loves. Thanks to Taehyung’s body heat and the heating panel, Daehyun was comfortably lying on your chest while Taehyung patted his bum.

Taehyung pulled you closer to him with a deep sigh and wrapped one arm around you. Now, your head was on Taehyung's shoulder, inches away from his face. "This is the best," he mumbled as Daehyun started to move again. Daehyung came up to kiss your forehead, just like he saw his dad did, all while holding himself up with the help of Taehyung’s face. As the little boy held onto his dad's face for support, Taehyung made a snorting sound.

“You were saying he was Appa’s boy?” Taehyung snickered and watched his little son place a drool-covered lick on your forehead. “He is!” You tried to speak but Daehyun dropped his fat belly onto your face. This time Taehyung let out a big laugh.

“Daeyhun!! Only Daddy can choke Mommy.” Taehyung playfully scolded. You gasped scandalously as Taehyung continued laughing while holding his stomach. You lifted the chubby baby out of your face. Daehyun giggled with the two of you, very glad to be the reason for your laugh.

“My baby!” You lowered the little baby to your chest this time. Little Daehyun knew this feeling very well and he immediately snuggled you again. His one hand held your neckline with his fragile hands. You grew heart eyes at the sight of this precious scene. Taehyung was the same if not more moved. He looked at how the little part of him, his most precious son, cuddling with you. He could feel how Daehyun felt safe, looking up at you in utmost awe.

“Like father, like son.” He looked at the big cuddle cloud containing his life treasures: his wife and son.

“Come here, Daddy.” You stretched your arm to Taehyung, which he gladly take. You released a pleasing sound when Taehyung laid his head on your shoulder. “How are you so warm?”

You answered your own question. “My furnace.” You murmured and rubbed your face to his damp hair. Taehyung smiled just like his son at your devoted love and dirty compliment. He couldn’t hug you as tight as he would like as he didn’t want to crush Daehyun.

“Are you hungry, my baby?” You asked quietly. Taehyung continued to watch his little son playing with the collar of your shirt.

You asked again, this time with your fingers in Taehyung’s hair. “I am talking to my man-baby.” Taehyung looked up into your eyes same as Daehyun and smiled cutely. “Yes, Mummy.” He said with an annoying voice.

Your reaction was to die for as your face crumbled into disgust. “Oh fuck off really…” You tried to push his head on your shoulder. Taehyung was the total opposite, he cuddled you more. “My love! Don’t kink shame me.”

You gave him a giggle as he started to kiss your neck playfully. “I am proudly kink shaming you, Daddy!” You tried to push him off just for jokes. Taehyung faked a groan, “I am still getting hard on the Daddy kink, wifey. Don’t tempt me.” He whispered into your ear as if Daehyun was going to understand.

“Oh, you are THE temptation, Taehyung. Look at yourself…” You eyed his naked chest.

“Mhmm, wifey…” He kissed your cheek and rose to his knees next to you. “This is me whoring myself for you… Come on, touch it.” He grabbed your hand on Daehyun and place it on his abs.

You felt them momentarily but pulled yourself from the temptation quickly. “I hope you are free this night, Mr Kim Taehyung.” You said, pointing to Daehyun. The little boy was unaware of anything.

“Oh, the offer sound amazing, Mrs Kim Y/N. I would love to give you a little tour around the exhibition.” Taehyung ran your hand from his abs to his precious asset. You immediately gasped when your hand felt his dick.

“There is a child!” You laughed at Taehyung’s bold moves and sit up on the bed.

Daehyun’s clothes were already laid on the side of the bed, directly in front of the heating panel like a cute bear.

Taehyung got up and sit behind you. You giggled, “Get dressed, appa bear.” He gave you shoulder kisses. As your hands move to get Daehyun’s clothes, Taehyung stopped you. “My love,” He whispered whilst arms wrapped around your waist. “Let me take care of our baby.” He kissed your shoulder as Daehyun started to suck his own thumb. You smiled at the sight and the sensation. “You work so much during the day already…” You mumbled, giving in to Taehyung's sweet kisses.

Taehyung continued kissing you as you dropped your head to his chest. “I am working for our family, my love, so you do too. We are a perfect team together, my wife… Mhmm? My sweet wife…” Taehyung peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses until he lost his breath. “Also, it is never actually tiring to take care of Daehyun and you. I always feel so full here…” Taehyung pressed his hand to your heart. He did his best not to notice your swollen tits but sensation chased him.

You groaned slightly when his hand almost grabbed your tit. Your boobs become sensitive a long time ago, and his large warm hand awakened more nerves than he soothed. “I will get our baby ready…”

You nodded. Even though Taehyung thought you would go finish dinner, you lay on the bed, next to Daehyun, enclosed by his dad's long legs so he couldn’t roll off the bed.

Taehyung smiled fatherly as Daehyun looked at you curiously as you lay next to him. The little boy wanted to get closer to you as Taehyung carefully slipped Daehyun's small arms into the soft onesie. The most difficult part was to stop Daehyun from suckling his thumb. When Taehyung tried to stop him, Daehyun let out a small whine, which Taehyung managed to stop with his low comforting voice.

“He is about to sleep again. Maybe I shouldn’t have bathe him right away.” Taehyung said as if it was a lullaby. His low and velvety voice made you sleepy too.

“It’s okay.” You mumbled as you got comfortable on the bed. Taehyung let you as he got dressed. Before leaving the bed, he placed a few pillows around Daehyun’s empty side to provide him safety. Then, he picked up the dirty baby clothes and disappear from your hearing zone. You were sure that he went to the laundry room but you were too lazy to open your eyes or ask him. Taehyung didn’t come to the bedroom for a while. He set the table for you and him and got Daehyun’s chair ready.

When he returned, he had worn his pyjamas and placed a wet smooch on your cheek. Taehyung slowly patted your bum, “Let’s have our dinner, my babies.” If you didn’t wake up when he called for the second time, he decided to leave you to sleep. Thankfully, you opened your eyes with a subtle smile. You pointed your cheek, “Another one, please.”

Taehyung gladly gave you another kiss, and you hummed. “One more,” you said, pouting your lips at him. Taehyung grinned, “Mwwahh” He loudly kissed your lips.

“Perfect,” You sighed and stretched your back. Daehyun was already trying to reach for his daddy with an adorable face. “Appa!” He called for Taehyung.

“My prince, my queen…” Taehyung picked up Daehyun and held his hand out for you. “Your dinner is ready.” He walked two of you to the kitchen with a posh butler expression slapped on his face. You let Taehyung guide your chair with his hand on your back. “Please sit down, Madame.” He continued his roleplay while earning snickering from you.

“Thank you, Monsieur.” You planted a wet, sweet kiss onto his cheek when he pulled your chair for you. The next was Daehyun, he was placed on his feeding chair, and Kim’s dinner began.

Taehyung’s little roleplay slowly ceased when he brought the meals to the table and thanked you. “Thank you for cooking, wifeyyy!” He kissed your hand like a gentleman after starting to feed Daehyun and himself. He insisted that you would eat your dinner uninterrupted. However, your two lovely boys were enough of a distraction. You watched them fondly as Daehyun tried to copy his dad by using his chopsticks and failed to bring the kimbap to his mouth.

Dinner was lovely even though the little boy made a huge mess on the floor as he played with his rice. Taehyung insisted on cleaning the kitchen so you could sleep, but you had a lot more planned in your head.

You held Taehyung by the collar as he insisted to walk you to the couch. “Go and play with our kid. Make sure he gets really tired because I will play with you later, Daddy.” Your eyes looking up at him intimidatingly, and your hand squeezing him shook Taehyung’s core so he decided to behave. “Yup, yeah, Ma’am. I will.” He picked up Taehyung while ogling your figure. “Go, go.” You pushed his hand slightly as his hand came for a sneaky grab on your ass while he looked your body up and down.

Taehyung and Daehyun played games throughout the whole afternoon. Thanks to his dad finding new ways to play different games, Daehyun was occupied and thoroughly exhausted. Meanwhile, you did some housework that would otherwise never get done because of the energetic and curious Daehyun.

“Look, mummy! A t-ric-era-top!” Daehyun ran towards to open kitchen from the living room, hugging your legs. He made the blueish-green dinosaur toy in his hand walk on your leg.

“Oh, wow! He is scary!” You played along while lowering yourself to his level. “No, mummy. He is a nice dinosaur.” Daehyun rubbed his face at the small toy. You ran your hand over his hair, gosh he was so cute. “Are you friends with the dinosaur, baby?” You asked him while carefully examining the toy.

Daehyun nodded, “Yes. He has a dad too!” Daehyun looked at his empty hand, his chubby fingers squeezing the air. “Where is the dad dinosaur?” You curiously asked. Right then Taehyung came right behind the cabinet. He was on his knees like a cat, but he was rawr-ing.

“Rawwwrrr, I am looking for my son…. Rawrrr.” Taehyung walked on his hands and knees in slow motion, voice playfully hoarse imitating a dinosaur.

Daehyun squealed with happiness when he saw his dad. Taehyung came towards the two of you. “I am a dad dinosaur! Did you see my son?” He asked Daehyun as he hid the toy behind his back. He pouted, “No, you are my dad!” Daehyun’s little feet stomp made you laugh.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the reaction. Before he could say anything, Daehyun hugged Taehyung’s neck and tried to climb on his back.

“Of course, I am Daehyun’s dad!” Taehyung sat on his feet, straightened his back and picked up Daehyun, who was hugging him so tightly.

Taehyung looked up at you from where he was kneeling. His eyes were teary with love. You smiled at them fondly and ran your hair through your husband’s hair. “We should find the dinosaur’s dad too, then?” Taehyung asked after planting kisses on the little boy’s cheeks. Daehyun nodded but continued to cling to his father’s arms instead of returning to their game. Two of your boys returned to the living room while holding each other dearly.

—

Mindlessly scrolling through Instagram was the best weekday night self-care you could think of. Mind off, pyjamas on, just scrolling through the endless pit of reels reseted your mind for some reason. You loved that you could just hide away from all of your responsibilities and have endless screen time.

“Daehyun has fallen asleep.” Taehyung entered the bedroom with the baby phone in his hand. “That means special time for mummy and daddy.”

You giggled at his puffy eyes begging to sleep. “Come to bed, baby daddy.” You called him while an endless loop of a video played on your phone.

“OF COURSE, I AM COMING.” Taehyung took off his black basic T-shirt in one swift moment and jumped on the bed. “And I am gonna devour this mummy.” He immediately took his place on top of you and started to tug on your shorts.

“Omg Taehyung!” You playfully whined. With a toddler, you knew foreplay was boujee.

“Yes, that’s what you will scream soon.” He said in his infamous dirty voice that made you soil your panties every time. You answered by kissing him. Kissing him sensually and endlessly was enough foreplay for you.

“Mhmm, wifey….” Taehyung breathed out to your face with a dummy smile. “Out of breath, honey?” You asked when he resisted back as you tugged his face onto your lips back.

“I wanna fuck you so bad, wifey.” He said, oh god, so blatantly and easily. Your nose crunched up. “Omg, how can you be still shy? You are my fucking wifeee! We literally created a human together.” Taehyung groaned, but it didn’t stop him from kissing down your neck to your chest and navel. He easily got rid of your shorts and took off your panties with them.

“Just let me say hi for a few seconds.” He said, immediately finding his place between your legs. He latched his lips onto your cunt immediately. He kissed it the same way he kissed your lips. You sweetly hummed at the wet sensation. Even though you were very accustomed to this feeling, you were very sensitive to his mouth.

“Nice.” Your hand was already in Taehyung’s hair, pushing and pulling his head for a perfect angle. He let you have your way with his mouth, grind against it, dirty his face. He simply took what you gave him with deep groans of pleasure.

Taehyung enjoyed getting you soaking for him before he did anything with his dick. He followed your lead and catered to you without any power play. Your pure pleasure on his tongue was enough of an award. Until you pulled his head, Taehyung kept slowly making out with your cunt. Almost the entire of his face was covered in your cream.

“Cock, please.” You breathed out. Taehyung giggled, “As you wish your Majesty.” He loved seeing you spoiled. He loved spoiling you with his big dick.

You hummed as Taehyung ran his dick up your slit, coating himself with your juice. He hissed, “Fuck.” You were almost lulled by the action. It soothed your raging core. “My pretty wife…” Taehyung mumbled as slowly pushed himself inside you. He sighed, “Fuck- Still my pretty slut.” You were so warm around him and so wet. His cock drowned in you.

“Ahh,” Taehyung moaned when you wrapped your legs around his waist. “So good, baby.” You mumbled to him, eyes closed.

“Yeah?” Taehyung asked as he pushed himself deeper. It made you moan out. “Even after all these years, you are so perfect, baby.” Taehyung freed himself from your legs, goosebumps had risen all over them. He stood tall between your thighs, presenting his gorgeous dad body to yours. Your hands didn’t reach all the way up to his baby abs, only your fingertips caressed his smooth skin.

“Still got me-” Taehyung huffed out, “breathless.” His hands gently smoothed around your body, he had to touch every inch of your skin. “My love…” He pressed a kiss on your wrist that tried to come up to his face. “My wife…” He kissed your palm, “Mother of my child.” His cloudy mouth pressed onto your knuckles gently.

“Tae-t” Your breath hitched in your throat. Why were you this sensitive to your husband? Your twitches and whimpers were so embarrassing.

“Y/N…” He moaned out your name and drape himself over you to fuck you on missionary. It was a classic position that he enjoyed the most. He pushed his dick into your walls with two gentle moves, they didn’t hurt but made you take deep breaths.

Taehyung watched you sheepishly smile and tried to move your hips to fit him in. As he wordlessly got in, he continued to keep his silence when you clenched on him. He let you have your moment for awhile. Your hands came up to his shoulders, down to his biceps, caressing every inch of skin you could feel.

Taehyung’s slightly dry skin was soothing and familiar. He had changed in throughout the years in a most handsome and mature way. Taehyung wanted to see inside your head as you touched him with gentle hands. Your body was way more perfect and powerful than his. He was still terrible at appreciating how your body was able to create a life. It was too good to be true. It was a miracle. His respect for you was always there ever since he met you, but after he saw what you went through during pregnancy, he was on his knees, bowing to you. He couldn’t even believe you were able to do any physical labour after carrying his son, let alone have him intimately again. So, Taehyung was extra gentle, caring and appreciative of you.

“How do you want to have me, love?” Taehyung asked. “Slow? Hard? Sensual?” He asked while his lips sucked on your shoulders, breath ghosting your full breasts.

You whined under him, “Hard…” Your wet cunt agreed with a hard clench. Your hands grabbed him on the shoulders and got ready for the pounding.

Taehyung scoffed, “Oh babe, I thought we entered the phase where we can just go slow and do a lot of cock-warming.” He made sure he had a comfortable hold, “Here I was thinking how our relationship matured incredibly…” He pulled his cock out, let you take a breath, and entered you again. “But you are still the cock hungry slut.”

You whined at the delicious way he filled you. “But Tae…” You opposed sweetly. “You are filling me up so well. You are giving me– ah baby– everything I need…” Taehyung pumped into you at a slow tempo.

“Do I?” He grinned down at you. Oh, you were stroking his ego so well.

“Mhmmhm… You are the best lover…Doing the all work for me– ah– just letting me enjoy your nice dick.” You bit down your lip to keep it quiet.

Taehyung’s growl filled your ears, he was always terrible at taking compliments. Taehyung’s voice was deep, low and his lips were right next to your ear. All this meant, his loose slutty mouth was going to make you cum with his words. “Yes, the fuck. You are still the same, Y/N. You are still my uni crush who begged me to pound her before her presentation. You are still a whore for me baby…” He let out a pathetic whine. “Fuck, I am still so desperate for you too… How did you make me fall in love with you this hard?” Taehyung’s lips attached you your neck as he stopped his hips. He didn’t want to cum yet. He wanted to savour you more.

You giggled through your nose as Taehyung hid on your neck, “I remember how you fucked me before my presentation at the student submit, right in your Toyota Echo.” You ran your hand in his hair. “You weren’t this big back then…” You mumbled as he ached your core while he stayed planted in your core. You needed him to move.

Taehyung understood that by the strong clenches, “It’s because I wasn’t this good at giving dick back then.” Taehyung had learnt sex with you. He learnt how to get better at things you liked, and tried new ways to tease you. He researched a lot. He listened to bits of advice and he practised them on you. You gave him a huge smile when he started to move his hips and serve your dick slowly. “Yeah, you progressively got better at dicking me down. F-fuuc-k, you turned into a sex machine…” Your moans and giggles filled Taehyung’s ears while he went back to steadily pull and push himself in.

“Yes, baby. You had me as your little fan and turned me into your husband…” He whispered solely because he was breathless.

“My husband…” You moaned out. The word especially felt good when he started to aim for your sweet spots. “My hubby…” Your delirious moan and calling him husband made Taehyung go harder, “Yes, I am your husband, baby. I am– ah jeez– I am the owner of this juicy, sweet cunt.” Taehyung spread his knees to get deeper.

Your moans immediately change into warning ones. You were about to cum so Taehyung spoke more filth. “I am the one who fucked you full and knocked you up. I got you so pregnant with my kid. You carried my child– fuck. Everyone knows I fucked you…” Taehyung’s own words affected him.

“I did, yes, yes, baby… Tae–” You called his name on the edge of your orgasm.

Taehyung slightly pushed your one shoulder down so that you didn’t shy away from your orgasm. He knew you would do that. “Because you are my wife. You are mine… Ah– Everything about you is mine… Oh my sweet love… You are gonna cum on your husband’s dick? Are you gonna make me the happiest man on Earth? Come on, do it for me. Let me see how much of a whore you can be for me? Please, cum for me…”

Taehyung’s hips worked harmoniously to his words. He always knew how to punctuate his words with his long dick. You were so weak for his dirty comments.

“Babe– I am gonna c-” You called him and he went even harder on the talking. “Come for me so I can finally fill you up again… Ghhm– Fill you up again with our second child…” Taehyung stopped feeling his dick a second later as you violently cum and squirt all over him. Your messy cunt became flooded with your sweet juices. Taehyung let himself lose in your hot cunt and helplessly empty himself inside you.

“F-fuck… Oh-” His hips weakly thrust a few times to fully empty himself. You continued to heavily breathe along with him. You felt his sweat evaporate and cool you off. You couldn’t reach for the duvet. “Oh my god…” Taehyung whispered a minute after your joined orgasm. His butt was cramping terribly but your racing heart and needy whimpers were worth it all the cramps in the world.

“Let me catch my breath…” He whispered into your skin as he laid on you completely. Your eyes went to the baby phone. Your son was still sleeping. You nodded as he rubbed his face to your breasts. You know that he had been avoiding them since they could leak anytime. Taehyung felt guilty of stealing his son’s food so he made sure he and his favourite girls had some time off, but this didn’t mean he couldn’t kiss them a little.

When you felt Taehyung’s wet mouth on your warm skin, you shivered. Taehyung felt how you loosely clench on him. He pulled himself off when he heard you hiss in pain. No titties for him some more time, he thought and returned to his favourite place on your neck.

He nuzzled, lips giving you a few lazy kisses before you got pulled into slumber even though you had a grown-ass man on top of you with his soft dick struggling inside you. Nevertheless, Taehyung was able to power nap for around five minutes before he got up to clean you.

You thanked him half asleep as Taehyung completed his most important duty. When he finished, he dressed you scarcely. He knew you would appreciate having some clothes on if you woke up to a crying baby at night. Then, he laid next to your sleeping figure.

With a tender smile playing on his lips, Taehyung's gaze caressed every delicate feature of your face. As he watched you sleep, his mind replayed the cherished memories, from the exhilarating moments of their first meeting to the vows they exchanged on their wedding day, each memory was etched in his heart with a profound sense of love and tenderness. Gently, Taehyung's fingers traced the delicate curve of your cheek, savouring the softness of your skin beneath his touch. The intimacy you and he had shared moments ago still lingered, your souls entwined in a dance of love and passion. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the deep connection. Lost in his thoughts, Taehyung whispered words of adoration into the silence of the room, his voice a soft caress against your asleep state.

"You are my everything," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and admiration. With a tender smile, Taehyung pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. In this quiet moment, he felt a profound sense of responsibility—to protect and cherish their love, to create a life filled with joy and happiness for their family. As the night carried them into dreams, Taehyung held you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the soulmate he had found in you.

———————

If you like this, you will LOVE Norway, and you will like i’m mad and Spoiled. Check out my masterlist.

#taehyung smut #dilf kim taehyung #bts taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts v smut #v smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #bts taehyung fluff #taehyung one #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #masterlist #edytae

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epicbuddieficrecs · 2 months

Text

Weekly Recap | March 11th-17th 2024

That premiere guys!!!!! Was so good!!!!! I'm so excited to be FINALLY be a part of the fandom while the show is actually airing! 😃 Can't wait to read all the amazing fics that are gonna be spawned from season 7!

Speaking of that, I would like to encourage everyone to use the relevant Ao3 tags when writing fics based on S7 content! Not everyone can watch the episodes as they air, so tags are really essential for people who don't want to get spoiled! (I could even make a separate post about it? a sort-of "how to tag" post?). In case you want to block some tumblr tags, my main tags for S7 are #911 season 7, #911 on abc, or #911 spoilers.

(Posting this one day early cause I don't feel like waiting until tomorrow! Enjoy! 😆)

Complete

i find peace in your smile by goforeddie/@iltrpls (A/B/O AU | 1K | General): They’ve been courting for a few months now. It’s agonizingly slow, but it’s still the best time they’ve ever had. You might think that after six years of walking on eggshells around each other, half a decade of “will-they-won’t-they” they wouldn’t be taking such a slow time with courting, but it's precisely everything that they’ve been through that makes them appreciate things a little better.

Birthday Flowers by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): OR: Buck gets Eddie flowers for his birthday.

🔥 if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Identity Porn | 45K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.

Lime Jell-O by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (S7E01: Abandon 'Ships | 3K | Teen): Eddie Diaz didn't panic. Or, well... Maybe he did. Sometimes. But he was working on it.

take the bed warmed by the body by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): It’s three parts bravado and one part reminder. He thinks about it, sometimes, his first shift at the 118—he doesn’t think either of them quite knew how much they’d meant it when they’d promised to have each other’s backs. He definitely hadn’t known, then, that he’d wake up one day and wonder why Buck isn’t in his bed. Because that’s what’s missing. He has a vague memory of falling asleep with his head resting against Buck’s shoulder, their legs tangled together.

Taken Space by Wildgirl93/ @wildlife4life (S7E01 Coda | 1K | General): Eddie and Marisol talk about the space that has already been taken.

Feel Like I Landed On The Moon by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Canon Divergent | 1K | General): OR: Eddie is pining for Buck while in Texas.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 98K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

53. A Dream You've Had Before (Explicit) 54. We're Definitely All Sluts Here (Explicit)

if you love someone by chronicallystendan (Pre-Buddie | 1K | General): Buck and Eddie both internally panic when a song comes on the radio that seems to be talking directly to them.

adventures of firehose and eightpack by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Social Media fic | 1,5K | Mature): Or: Eddie stumbles upon Buck's old twitter account.

Two, Three Times in a Row by Leslie_Knope (PWP | 6K | Explicit): “We could’ve gone again.” Eddie snorts. “I’m old. You expect me to get it up twice?” “Yes,” Buck says, like it’s a given, like duh. “I could get you to do it right now.” The entire world pauses, and Eddie actually feels it, the bolt of arousal slinking down his spine all the way to his toes. He wets his lips. “Right now?”

WIP

🔥 miracles under your sighs and moans by napricot (Sex Pollen, PWP | 1/2 | 13K | Explicit): When Eddie gets exposed to an experimental aphrodisiac on a call, he realizes there’s only one person he trusts to help him get through it: Buck.

🔥 because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 9/10 | 63K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

if you know anyone that is not tagged, please tag them in the comments!

#buddie #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #epic buddie fic rec

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wizardfrog69 · 1 year

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Helllooo! Could you write Ranpo, Fyodor, Chuuya, and Dazai (separately) meeting S/O’s family please? The classic family, overprotective dad and overprotective big brother, welcoming mother, the playful little kid siblings? How would the boys react to the family?

So idk what the "classic" family is so sorry if it looks like I have no idea what I'm doing, it's because I don't, but I'll try my best! :)

So I'm gonna add a grandmother cuz it's funny, she's gonna be the type who makes a shit ton of food and expects you to eat everything and constantly asks if you need more, you know the one. If you do not, I sincerely apologise.

Thank you for your request!

'•.¸♡meeting your family♡¸.•'

Gn!reader

Fluff

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Feat. Ranpo, Fyodor, Chuuya, Dazai.

Ranpo Edogawa

Meeting your family with Ranpo was a disaster, mainly because of Ranpo. He would constantly boast about himself being the greatest detective (and boyfriend) he didn't do it too often but he still mentioned it once or twice.

If your mother made something sweet he would be all in and love her and in turn she'll love him and fucking spoil him.

Your father and older brother weren't as pleased with him as your mother, Ranpo wasn't the most possessive type but when people acted like they owned you that is when he got pissed.

He would never dream of acting inappropriately round your parents but whenever his eyes met your fathers or older brothers he would snake his hand round your arm.

He didn't care all that much for your younger sibling(s), he probably got them something because you forced him to

He fucking loves your grandma. I mean how could he not when she constantly makes sooo much cake and amazing food!! She is his favourite relative of yours.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fuck everyone is low key intimated by his presence. You probably told them there is nothing to be scared of before you introduced him to them. Fyodor is not trying to be intimating tho! He just .... has a vibe yk.

He brought some nice wine and flowers for your mother and whatever your father likes for him, maybe like some whisky or something probably.

He talks politics and other respectful topics your family chooses to talk about. Idk what people choose to talk about but usually we talk about history and politics, I think Fyodor will gladly talk about those topics.

It doesn't matter if your older brother is older, younger or your fucking twin, Fyodor will always seem older and more mature.

If your younger sibling is like 1 it will absolutely shit itself when they see him, they are fucking terrified.

He will compliment the cooking 100% I mean who wouldn't tbh but he definitely will.

I know I'm saying that everyone loves the grandmother but like why wouldn't he?!??!?! He would love raising a child who has a grandmother who freezes a shit ton of cake and makes the best god damn cooking you have ever taste.

Also, he wouldn't call your mother 'mom' but rather 'mother' or 'мать' (mat') which means mother in Russian if I'm not mistaken

Chuuya Nakahara

He wants to make the best first impression he can.

He'll dress up all nicely and everything! He brings some nice (and expensive) wine as an offering to your family.

He gets along with your brother the best, they are besties now! He also tries to get along with your younger siblings as much as he can but it's hard to be friends with a child when you aren't one yk.

If he was asked for his occupation he obviously won't say the fucking mafia, he made something up on the spot but the only thing he could come up with was bartender for some reason.

Your mother wasn't too fond of him but quickly grew to like him since you loved him so much.

Your father and Chuuya started talking about some team they both watch and that is mostly how they bonded.

Osamu Dazai

You had to force him to bring something nice for your parents as well.

He kept on complaining and whining about meeting them but once you got there it was as if he was a completely different person, he was nice and didn't ask anyone to commit double suicide?!?!?! Like who is this man!

He wooed your mother to like him which was pretty easy the more difficult task was getting the rest of your family to like him.

Honestly he probably just had to tell your younger siblings he was a detective and they are interested to listen to all the cool stories he has.

If your mother tells him to call her mom he will definitely call her mom like 24/7 not because it's rude to call her by her name but because he gets to have a mother to call 'mom'.

Also he wants to call your father 'daddy' just for the laughs but he won't, he calls him 'dad'.

He doesn't call your brother 'brother', 'bro' maybe but not brother.

After meeting your whole family and coming back for dinner or something he would come into the kitchen shout 'grandma' with open arms ready to give her a hug. He's lucky she wasn't cooking at the moment.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

Sorry I haven't posted anything, life's keeping me busy °^°

Have a wonderful day/night!

-Love, Az

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vaguely-concerned · 6 months

Text

Thoughts upon finishing Master and Apprentice! A good double read with Padawan; the ending of that leaving Obi-Wan slightly hopeful about his relationship to Qui-Gon makes for a very sad yet hilarious ‘Local Padawan loses last little bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of vibe to the beginning of this one, which is set one (1) year later and Obi-Wan is So Done with Qui-Gon’s whole deal by this point (correctly btw). Also if you can’t tell already I will not be objective or free from bias in this because I love Obi-Wan so much and some of the stuff Qui-Gon pulled made me incandescent with rage on his behalf <3 let’s go

- 'oh obi-wan, you're so mature for your age, I keep forgetting you're only seventeen years old,' qui-gon says, word for word, repeatedly, in master and apprentice, apparently willfully deaf to the industrial-sized warning bells about their relationship dynamic that should probably be setting off in his head. qui-gon believes in vibing with the living force and being in the moment right up until the moment requires him to pay attention to the kid he's raising for more than oh, one and a half minutes of self-effacing inner monologue and then he's like 'well unfortunately there is simply no time for that right now there are prophecies to be pondered'. (the fact that the admission that obi-wan has essentially been left to raise himself emotionally and the resigned reframing of that as 'and maybe that is a good thing!' is part of the olive branch they extend to each other towards the end... will my sadness never end)

- most of all it's so heartbreaking to me that qui-gon seemingly never understands just how much obi-wan as a person is rooted deeply in shame. I don't think that's a feeling that's particularly prevalent in qui-gon's own inner world so he doesn't recognize how central it is in obi-wan's psychology and completely misunderstands and misaligns with him again and again and again and then gets annoyed with obi-wan for that, thus making the shame even deeper. doubly painful because he does see the way rael lives so much of his life out of shame now and feels sad about it, but can't see the way he's contributing to obi-wan doing so. this is what fucks me up so bad about the generational trauma in star wars -- no one here meant to be cruel. for all his faults I do think qui-gon does love obi-wan and doesn't mean to hurt him. but the original sin of the prequels as far as I'm concerned is qui-gon tenderly drying away obi-wan's tears as he's dying even while completely failing to see him, his eyes too fixed on anakin's future to actually be with obi-wan, who's there right now and needs him.

these are simply very different people trying and failing to understand each other, and the harm that can still happen in that… 'if you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand', all the way through the disaster line, even when the love is there, it is there, that’s what hurts the most, it just doesn’t reach where it’s needed, there’s a connection that doesn’t happen. (ironically I think ahsoka doesn't doubt that anakin loves her, it's just uh everything else that went down. so y'know family curse broken! new even more fucked up curse achieved now with more child murder. I mean there already was some child murder in this family but anakin upped the game exponentially)

- a lil guy who's basically tarzan except the gorillas are replaced with protocol droids and then he becomes a jewel thief is one of the funniest star wars concepts I've ever heard and I hope pax and rahara get to pop up in more star wars media, they’re great fun. (also an idea I think would be super fun to make a character/campaign around in Edge of the Empire or something, everyone playing different droids and then one person being robo-parented lol)

- was not prepared to have rael posit a theory of what essentially seems to be the jedi version of predestination in his despair, but I do love to see it haha. especially interesting since he, qui-gon and dooku must be among the people alive who've studied the prophecies in most depth, and they've all reached different conclusions -- dooku decides to join the war of light and dark on the side of dark for some reason, qui-gon (possibly the stubbornest fucker the jedi order ever produced) 'turns towards the light not to win some great cosmic game, but because it is the light', and rael in the middle falls into the depressed apathy of 'it doesn't matter what we do here, the outcome is already decided; for there to be true balance there has to be as much dark as light in the world so we're fucked'. but in the end he does take qui-gon's words to heart and turns towards the light rather than accepting dooku's offer, even if he might not believe it makes a difference in the long run. man I love rael. hobo-looking sonofabitch living in a castle for eight years will just suddenly fling out some deep jedi theology huh

- master rael 'I'm gonna make up for the big terrible mistake I made on accident by making an even bigger more premeditated mistake on purpose' averross (affectionate)

- the added layer to dooku’s fascination with prophecy after reading dooku: jedi lost — that his best friend in the world was a seer who couldn’t turn it off and it destroyed him……….. dooku you’re not getting him back if you just understand what he saw you know that right

- the more I read of master and apprentice the more I realize that the reason yoda and qui-gon don't get along is that they're two of the judgiest bitches the jedi order ever produced. They’re like two cats scowling judgmentally at each other from opposite sides of the room pretending to live and let live while going ‘you’re wrong tho’ internally.

- I dunk on him constantly (not entirely without affection, however grudging), but Qui-Gon is genuinely a really interesting character. He’s so… he’s so. He’s infuriating but he’s infuriating in an equidistant sort of way. You feel me. He’s pissing everyone off equally and he just doesn’t care because again, he’s the stubbornest judgiest bitch around and thinks he’s right all the time. I would be free to just enjoy his ornery ‘no actually I’m right about this’ ass and the chaos he wreaks so much more if Obi-Wan didn’t have to live with the emotional consequences of it lol.

- poor rael closing in on fifty with his puriteen middle-aged little brother clutching pearls about his getting laid once in a blue moon fhdskjahfas. again a really interesting insight into different ways of interpreting the jedi code, though, I love seeing the jedi not be an ideological monolith. to be fair to rael, having sex sometimes does seem to be the indulgence he has that causes the least conflict with his principles or loyalties so you know what honestly force speed you my friend why not. (and then there's qui-gon 'noooo sex is only okay if you're In Love (implied: like I was)!!!' jinn lmao. I wonder what he'd think of anakin and padme's relationship, would that pass the 'being sufficiently purely in love' test for him) I do like how consistently it’s shown that rael doesn’t mean to be cruel or unkind in anything he says, he always notices something landing too close to home and then pulls carefully back from it instead of pushing on. He seems to be the emotional intelligence powerhouse in this lineage (as long as he doesn’t have his feelings too tangled up in something, at least).

Dooku: jedi lost also shows us that dooku absolutely knows rael is out there in the galaxy laying pipe and is, at worst, softly amused by it. So in this little family unit it’s only qui-gon losing his mind over it fjsdkafa I’m so used to having qui-gon be the wild card maverick compared to obi-wan ‘*in tears* but what are the RULES master’ kenobi, it’s so fucking funny that within the context that raised him he’s the stick in the mud

I guess. the book also had a plot and it was not bad! some interesting insights about how the republic interacted with the big corporations and just how fucked everything already was by this point. I'm a pretty character-driven reader so that's what sticks with me for the most part

- obi-wan’s big teenage rebellion here being that sometimes. Occasionally. When he really loses his temper and gets hot under the collar. He’ll say something slightly passive aggressive out loud instead of keeping it contained inside his head. And qui-gon still can’t handle that gracefully AT ALL he snaps right back fdjskfhas. (I guess he also snitches on qui-gon to the council but well, you know, qui-gon was breaking republic law pretty brazenly at that point I think that moves beyond teenage angst and into ‘...master that’s a wholeass felony’ territory). Obi-Wan does go for a couple of low blows, but like. Nothing that’s not actually true, is the thing. And mostly he blames himself for not being good enough, because surely if he were qui gon wouldn’t treat him like this. Augh. hngh. Pain. suffering.

- I am not one of the people who think everything would have automatically been just hunky-dory if only qui-gon lived and could have been anakin's master (in fact I would have given it a 50/50 chance of going exponentially worse way faster; being more similar as people is not always a guarantee that a relationship will go smoother and qui-gon is an incredibly difficult man to be close to for any length of time), but the way this book basically presents how the dynamic between dooku, rael and qui-gon could have gone on in the next generation too... it would have been incredibly unfair to obi-wan (as always I think that's just an universal constant lmao) but I think the odds of it turning out okay would have been better if you had him in the mix to run crisis control for both qui-gon and anakin, as he does for each of them individually as best he can anyway. at least he could have been free to be anakin's brother and friend purely in that scenario, without all the added mess of grief and having to take on a parental role there so young. he does basically fill that role in ahsoka's apprenticeship, after all.

- qui-gon finally hugging rael before he leaves the planet (and especially since when they were younger he wanted to, but held himself back from it)... that's still his big brother even with all the shit that's happened since ;_____; when someone teaches you how to swim (literally and symbolically) that shit stays with you I suppose

Relatedly: DOOKU getting hugged, and gladly. What the fuck. Are you all seeing this shit. I’m gonna cry or laugh I’m not sure which one why am I emotionally invested in the galaxy's most problematic grandpa now this sucks

#and that's the power of star wars baybey #star wars #master and apprentice #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jin #rael averross #count dooku #star wars meta

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toomanybrainrots · 10 months

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Got random ideas for a shattered glass au for TFP and RB and im sharing them here

Starting with TFP, Optimus would definitely be in the place of Megatron, as Autobots are evil here. SG!Optimus is a ruthless and cold tyrant that shows zero mercy towards anyone, not even his fellow Autobots. He sees the Autobots as minions and pawns he could dispose of ay any minute, he only keeps the useful ones.

SG!Ratchet is a cold-sparked and cynical medic, who is willing to use his fellow Autobots to get the results he wants. He may be a medic, but he's not afraid to get his servos dirty to get his results.

SG!Bulkhead is a wrecker who is always angry, always snapping or lashing out at something or someone. He doesn't care one bit about anything or anyone he breaks, as he enjoys the feeling of wrecking and the destruction that he intentionally causes, having a cruel and arrogant demeanor. Due to that, he has broken many of Ratchet's gadgets, causing the two to despise each other and willing to sacrifice the other.

SG!Arcee is a sly and cowardly femme, willing to scarifice anyone that is in her way as long as she gets out alive in the end, having a cold-sparked and cruel demeanor. She has plans to overthrow Optimus, as she sees herself to be more of a fit to be the leader of the Autobots. She and SG!Airachnid have quiet a history together, considering she had killed her previous partner before her very optics, and was the reason her partner, Skyquake, had fallen.

SG!Bumblebee is a loyal and silent scout, as his voicebox had been ripped out by Optimus himself as a punishment for disobeying him and a warning for the others, yet he sees that he deserved the punishment. He has eyes everywhere on the Ark, always knowing what is happening and relaying to Optimus. He is merciless on the battlefield and will not hesitate to off his opponents if necessary.

SG!Wheeljack is a cold and calculating scientist wrecker, who's experiments are bizzare and almost inhumane. He is a servant of logic first and foremost rather than a servant of Optimus. He does not care for anyone, simply seeing all of them as tools to further his experiments, which perfectly describes his relationship with Bulkhead.

SG!Ultra Magnus is a wrecker commander who is loyal to Optimus and the Autobots, but rarely does he take anything seriously. Yes, he gets the job done but he is, what Bulkhead and Wheeljack describe, a fool who does not deserve his title or his respect, a sentiment that is shared by everyone but Optimus, as the Prime doesn't care if Ultra Magnus is annoying or not, simply seeing him as a useful pawn he can manipulate and use.

SG!Smokescreen is mature and calculating, despite his young age. The rookie takes everything seriously, never joking around at all. Smokescreen is one of the only two bots that Bumblebee seems to have taken a liking to, often seen with him or nearby when a bot seeks one of the two out.

Now Recue Bots, who aren't exactly Rescue Bots.

In this SG universe, they are a faction that was founded by the Autobots and full of gladiators, wreckers and criminals, to cause disasters for the Autobots to come and swoop in and "save the day", to be the knights in shining armors and deceive the rest of Cybertron. But, the Rescue bots had defected, refusing to cause these disasters no more, which angered Optimus, a lot. SG!Heatwave and his team had managed to escape Optimus in their spaceship, having to go in stasis to hide their life signals away from the Autobots, the others were not as lucky.

I still don't know what to do for the Rescue Bots, i have ideas but I'm still working on them so yeah

I just wanted to ramble about this

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justlarkin · 2 months

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The gang's all here now!! Don't know how to feel about them splitting up Amy and Mikey.

AMATERASU IS A 5* I'M GONNA KMS!!! 🗣

Also, CHAPTER 3 RETCON. She ended up exiling him, not their dad like Azazel said. Unless she just did it under his orders. Amaterasu used to constantly apologize for Susanoo's bad behavior and tried to defend him, but eventually she had to send him away. From what she was saying in her first teaser video, she'll probably have a "it's time for you to grow up and stop being a menace" mentatilty. And if that's the case, I think he already matured on his own when he was kicked out. He's just a genuine dickhead at his core.

Willie Wildcat, a transient from Utopia and a newb on the battlefield. He's actually younger than he looks and is described as cheerful and bright. When faced with danger he tends to freakout and turns into a cry baby. His entire troop is comprised of beastmen who were modified and experimented on like Nomad.

He seems to be based on the Starship Troopers novel going off his name. They vague-named him since he's just named after the troop, but maybe he's supposed to be Kitten Smith due to the name and since Kitten is described as cheerful?

I was literally looking at this man's Wikipedia page when I made this post the other day and went "there's no way it's this guy, he's giving NOTHING" AND HE STILL ISN'T. Good for him for going against the grain and not wearing anything Chinese to signify he's from Hourai like everyone else ig.

Mr. Raven, member of the Game Masters and firefighter instructor. In his home world, he's worshipped as a guardian bird who prevents disasters. That's why his role is to keep the game stabilized by eliminating disasters and why he became a lendary firefighter here in Tokyo.

#shut up lark

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fanby-fckry · 2 months

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One Man’s Romcom is Another Man’s Psychological Horror

Day 4 of Ace Alastor Week: Date Night

Word Count: 3,062

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Warnings: Second-Hand Embarrassment, Violence, Stabbing, Hand Trauma, Implied/Referenced Stalking

Relationships: Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, you can’t prove it didn’t happen (but it probably didn’t), Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Crack, Crack Treated Somewhat Seriously, Genre Clash, Romantic Comedy, Psychological Horror, Angst and Humor, Angst, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Bad Ending, POV Alternating, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator Times 2, (seriously they both have such a skewed view of things), One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, One-Sided Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Romance-Repulsed Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Deer Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being an Idiot (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Out of Character Vox (Hazbin Hotel), (maybe? idk honestly), Bisexual Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Bisexual Disaster Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Incel Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Misunderstandings, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Conversations

Series: Part 4 of Fanby’s Ace Alastor Week 2024 ( <- Prev || Next -> )

Summary:

*A*

Vox had proposed a business meeting, the following Friday at seven.

To which Alastor replied, “Splendid! It’s a date!”

Vox’s screen went fuzzy. Ha! It was always very entertaining to watch his reactions to Alastor’s attention. Something so small as accepting an invitation to a meeting was enough to elicit a malfunction. What fun!

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him. What an idiot.

*V*

“Szz-seven,” Vox sputtered.

“Splendid!” Alastor replied.

And then he said three words that just about fried Vox’s circuitry.

“It’s a date.”

Vox’s vision blurred around the edges, tunneling until all he could see was Alastor’s smiling face.

He’d fumbled the invitation, made it sound like just another fucking business meeting. And yet, Alastor… Alastor still…

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him fondly. Vox thought he might be in love.

Vox asks Alastor out on a date; Alastor says yes to a business meeting. Vox’s romcom quickly turns into Alastor’s psychological horror.

Better on AO3

Author’s Notes:

This was meant to be a comedy of errors and somehow turned into a combination romcom/psychological horror. Oops.

I’m sorry to everyone in the poll who voted for this thinking it was going to be all humor. This just kinda… happened.

Set sometime in the late 60’s or early 70’s.

I’m not sure whether or not I wrote Vox OOC. You guys know I love playing with baby Overlords because it gives me an opportunity to write them as more insecure and less stable, and that’s exactly what I did. DLDR and all that jazz.

The bad ending tag is there because Alastor goes final girl on Vox’s ass. Don’t worry, though, nobody gets seriously physically hurt. Just their feelings and their pride.

Alastor sat, back straight, smile strained, through what was turning out to be one of the most awkward nights of his life. And not even the fun kind of awkward!

There was something called second-hand embarrassment that Alastor did not seem to suffer from, as he typically found the social ineptitudes of others to be hilarious – but this was about as close as he’d ever come to relating to the term.

Vox was making a fool of himself. And rather than being entertained, Alastor just felt… Odd.

Alastor sighed. He wondered where it had all gone wrong. After all, it started off simply enough…

*A*

Vox had proposed a business meeting, the following Friday at seven.

To which Alastor replied, “Splendid! It’s a date!”

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him. What an idiot.

*V*

It was a simple plan. Start a conversation with Alastor. Ask Alastor for a date. Take Alastor out on a date. Real simple.

So naturally, Vox managed to fuck it up.

“Do you wanna… maybe… get dinner sometime?”

Alastor cocked his head to the side. Fuck, why did he have to be so cute? Vox was already tripping over his words, his speakers glitching from the anticipation of finally asking Alastor out. Those little deer-like motions were going to make him short out!

“Dinner?” Alastor sounded vaguely amused.

Vox felt something surge. He wasn’t sure what.

“Yeah, dinner,” Vox repeated. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, feeling less and less sure of himself by the second.

Focus, focus, focus! he berated himself. Stick to the script!

Vox smiled as confidently as he could manage. “There’s this really nice new steakhouse right on the edge of my territory, and they keep a table open for me on Friday nights.”

In reality, Vox had reserved that table three weeks in advance. But the idea that the restaurant respected/feared their new Overlord enough to offer him a standing reservation unprompted sounded much more impressive.

“I could take you as my plus one.”

Alastor hummed and tapped a single red claw against his chin. “And why would I want to be your plus one?” he asked coldly.

Ouch. Good thing Vox didn’t need a heart anymore, because it felt like Alastor had just ripped it out of his chest.

Vox suppressed the instinctual sound effect that came with the feeling and tried to push past it.

“I just thought we could…” his voice came out stilted and wavery. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “We could talk… and stuff…”

Alastor seemed more interested in his own nails than in the conversation.

Fuck, Vox thought. I’m losing him!

Vox laughed to cover his discomfort. “It’d be like… a business meeting… but with food!”

No, no, no!

Alastor’s smile widened. “A business meeting with food,” he parroted.

Kill me, Vox thought. “Yeah. That’s… what I said.” Put me out of my fucking misery.

“Hm.” Alastor paused for an agonizing moment, then shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?”

Vox perked up immediately. “Really?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Alastor laughed. “Yes, really! What time, Friday?”

“Szz-seven,” Vox sputtered.

“Splendid!” Alastor replied.

And then he said three words that just about fried Vox’s circuitry.

“It’s a date.”

Vox’s vision blurred around the edges, tunneling until all he could see was Alastor’s smiling face.

He’d fumbled the invitation, made it sound like just another fucking business meeting. And yet, Alastor… Alastor still…

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him fondly. Vox thought he might be in love.

*A*

Vox insisted on picking Alastor up from his radio tower and driving them both to the restaurant.

Alastor had laughed when he first suggested it, thinking it was a joke. Afterall, it was hardly necessary. Alastor’s powers involved not one but two means of magical transportation that far exceeded the abilities of even the latest and greatest modern automobile.

But Vox wouldn’t budge!

When Alastor asked him why, he’d lowered his big block of a head and muttered something about how it was, ‘more romantic that way.’

Alastor had no idea what that had to do with anything. But in the end, he acquiesced. The whole thing was Vox’s idea, after all. Might as well let him handle the transportation.

*V*

Today was the day. Vox had everything set up. He double and triple checked the reservations – and bribed the waitstaff to play along with his little white lie – cleaned his car, practiced driving the route from Alastor’s tower to the restaurant, and most importantly, bought Alastor flowers.

He’d waffled on the flowers for a while. He didn’t wanna come on too strong – roses felt like more of a third date thing – but he also didn’t want it to seem like he got something cheap or generic.

In the end, he settled on red tulips and rhododendrons – red was definitely Alastor’s favorite color – with some white candytufts to break up all the red.

Vox arrived at Alastor’s tower at 6:26 pm and knocked on the door at 6:29. That would leave two minutes for Alastor to open the door, three minutes for conversation, one for Vox to escort him to the car, and still let them reach the restaurant with a minute to spare.

Alastor opened the door. He was wearing his usual coat and suit – which was fine! Nobody was going to enforce dresscode on the fucking Radio Demon. Vox had dressed up, though. Oh fuck, was he overdressed?

Vox panicked. He thrust the bouquet in Alastor’s direction and said something that sort of resembled the words, “For you.”

Alastor took the bouquet. The bouquet promptly wilted.

“Thank you!” Alastor said, and casually threw the wilted bouquet aside.

“Involuntary phytokinesis!” Alastor explained. “Flowers don’t agree with my powers.”

“Oh.” Vox rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Apology accepted, my friend!” Alastor clapped Vox on the shoulder. “Well, let’s get a move on! Shake a leg, old pal!”

Alastor pushed past Vox and headed towards the car. Vox followed closely behind, resisting the urge to curse under his breath.

This was not how he’d expected things to go.

*A*

The ride to the restaurant was unsettling in a way Alastor couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It wasn’t the automobile or the road or the pedestrians that were the trouble. No, it was the driver. It was Vox.

Something was off about him. How queer.

*V*

They arrived at the restaurant right on schedule. Vox pushed past the crowd of various lesser demons to get to the host station. Alastor watched, clearly in awe of the confidence and power he exuded.

*A*

Vox rudely pushed his way through the demons waiting their turn to speak to the maître d’. Alastor curled his upper lip in disgust, appalled by Vox’s terrible manners.

*V*

Vox flashed the maître d’ a smile. “Table for two.”

“Your usual table awaits, sir,” the maître d’ lied. “Right this way.” He bowed his head, showing Vox and Alastor due respect as Overlords, and led them to their table.

It was the best seat in the house, Vox had made sure of it. Far enough from the kitchens and bathrooms to avoid excess foot traffic or unpleasant smells, close enough to the grand piano to get the full effect of the music without it drowning out their conversation.

The table was set for two, complete with romantic candle light. It was perfect.

Vox pulled out a chair for Alastor – only to have him sit in the opposite seat.

Vox short circuited.

*A*

Vox pulled out a chair for himself. Alastor sat in the seat across from him.

Then, for some unknown reason, Vox froze. Something misfired in that big, square head of his. Alastor laughed.

“I meant to do that,” Vox said, once he regained what little sense he had, and sat down.

“Of course.” Alastor folded his hands in his lap. He smiled as he watched Vox awkwardly fiddle with his silverware.

Vox seemed to be returning to his natural state – insecurities covered by a thin veneer of false confidence which bordered on arrogance, with a deliciously desperate, easily exploitable thirst for attention that couldn’t be hidden no matter what measures the poor man attempted to take.

Good. Whatever that other thing was had started to become… unnerving.

*V*

Vox kept his head down for a while, feigning interest in the silverware while trying to get his shit together.

He was on a date with Alastor. He’d planned the date down to the letter. Nothing was going according to plan.

Vox stole glances at Alastor whenever he dared to lift his gaze.

The candlelight cast Alastor in a warm glow, his eyes a dazzling ruby red. The shadows around him danced – whether from the flickering of the flame or the nature of Alastor’s powers, Vox didn't know. He looked… He looked beautiful.

Vox decided to tell him so.

*A*

With Vox acting more like his usual self, Alastor turned his attention to the menu.

He didn’t suppose they had Sinner meat on the menu – and little more than a cursory glance confirmed his suspicions. Oh well! He was sure to find a cut of meat he’d enjoy.

And besides, he preferred to be selective when it came to sourcing once sentient meat. He’d rather make the kill, himself, or procure it from another cannibal whose tastes he trusted, like Rosie, than order from an establishment he knew next to nothing about.

Speaking of which, the restaurant actually seemed quite tasteful. Live music in the form of a vulpine Sinner playing a grand piano, tasteful decor and fine architecture. Alastor hoped that the food would live up to the atmosphere.

Hm, he’d better get back to the menu. He wouldn’t want to be caught unprepared when their server arrived.

Alastor was just barely aware of the fact that Vox was paying more attention to him than to his own menu, but that really wasn’t any of Alastor’s concern. In fact, it would be rather entertaining to watch Vox scramble to choose a dish last minute.

“You look beautiful,” Vox blurted out, completely unprompted.

Alastor’s ears swiveled in Vox’s direction, but he didn’t deign to take his eyes off the menu. “I look exactly like I always do, Vox.”

“And you’re always beautiful.”

That time, Alastor’s eyes flicked up on their own accord. He felt his ears stand up straighter, and his tail – of all things! – attempt to flip upwards, prevented from doing so by the way he’d tucked it firmly beneath his clothes.

Alastor hummed his acknowledgement and returned to his menu.

So much for Vox being his usual self. What the hell was he on about?

*V*

Vox didn’t need to read the menu. He’d already memorized his order for tonight, down to the last detail. And he’d also chosen Alastor’s. Ordering for your date was a great way to impress them by showing off your confidence and your intimate knowledge of their preferences.

*A*

By the time the server – a lioness Sinner with a sparse mane; Leyonarda, according to her nametag – arrived at their table, Alastor had chosen a drink and an appetizer, and was well on his way to deciding what he would have for the main course.

Vox had apparently also decided, despite barely glancing at the menu. Well, if he had a standing reservation, perhaps he already had a signature order.

Vox gave the waitress his own order, which Alastor didn’t care to pay much thought to, and then did something that caught not only Alastor’s attention, but his ire.

“And he’ll have the-”

“Ha!” Alastor interrupted. “I’m quite capable of ordering for myself, Vox.” So he did.

After the waitress left, Alastor sat, fuming.

The fucking audacity on the man. What had possessed him to think he could make decisions on Alastor’s behalf?

For something as mundane as ordering an appetizer, perhaps Alastor should’ve let it slide. But Vox had been acting strangely and lacking manners all evening.

Now, Vox had always been a bit strange – Alastor rarely wasted time on people that weren’t – and had generally been letting his new Overlord status go to his head when it came to interactions with the masses, but this… This was something else.

Alastor glared daggers at Vox from across the table. Vox wouldn’t meet Alastor’s eye in return. At least he had the decency to be ashamed of himself.

*V*

So much for impressing Alastor by ordering for him. Vox had put so much effort into learning Alastor’s non-cannibalistic eating habits, too!

Not to mention the fact that Alastor had had all of ten minutes to look over the menu while Vox had been studying it for weeks.

And now Alastor had the nerve to be angry with him? What the fuck?

Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. Everything was blowing up in his face. At first, Vox had blamed himself, but now that he’d had time to think about it, really, the problem was Alastor.

Alastor had agreed to go on a date with Vox, and then rejected him at every turn.

Alastor had nitpicked Vox’s choice to drive them to the restaurant, then clammed up on the drive over, practically ignoring Vox the whole way there.

Alastor had destroyed the flowers Vox put so much time and effort into choosing. Thrown them away like trash. And he’d snubbed all of Vox’s attempts to be romantic since.

Alastor had played hot and cold from the very beginning, smiling and laughing and being the first one to call it a date! And now he was giving Vox the cold shoulder?

Talk about mixed signals.

*A*

Vox was giving off mixed signals. One minute he seemed subdued and apologetic, the next he was making some comment or another about Alastor.

Alastor’s appearance, Alastor’s attitude, Alastor’s choice to order his own Goddamned food.

Alastor had no idea what had triggered this shift in Vox’s behavior, but he had half a mind to start taking that mechanical head of his apart in hopes of finding out. Or simply to change the channel from inane commentary and false guilt to screams of pain and cries for mercy.

Either option sounded more appealing than sitting here and enduring Vox’s rapid decline in intellect.

The only thing stopping him was that – tonight’s oddities aside – Alastor considered Vox an ally, perhaps even a friend.

Because Vox’s television broadcasts used radio waves, his empire relied heavily on Alastor’s domain. Alastor had used this as leverage for countless favors, and would continue to do so until Vox outgrew either his usefulness or his entertainment value.

Alastor could always rely on Vox as a source of amusement when that ever-creeping sense of boredom threatened to consume him, and he enjoyed pushing Vox’s physical and metaphorical buttons to no end.

It wasn’t much of a stretch to say that Alastor usually enjoyed Vox’s company. Or that he was hesitant to end their working relationship over one night of… whatever this was.

So, Alastor endured.

And that was how Alastor wound up here, feeling a bit like he should be clawing his own skin off and a lot like he should be flaying Vox’s with one of the handily provided steak knives.

And doing neither because he was waiting to see how the night would play out. Waiting to see if he would get the Vox he used to know back at the end of it.

Leyonarda returned with their drinks. Vox drank freely. Alastor didn’t touch his.

Instead, he rested his hand on the table, tapping his claws against the wood. His skin prickled and itched. His legs were restless. His ears were still standing alert, swiveling and twitching in reaction to the sounds around them.

Since arriving in Hell, there was a part of Alastor’s brain that he’d done his best to ignore. A primal, animalistic part of him that had come free with this cursed cervine form. A prey instinct.

And currently, it was screaming.

Alastor’s claws drummed against the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. And his heart matched it beat for beat.

Time slowed.

Vox reached across the table.

Alastor stabbed Vox’s hand.

Vox let out a staticky hiss of pain. His hand was stabbed clean through with the steak knife Alastor had been eyeing. Pinned to the table, just inches away from where Alastor’s hand rested.

Alastor’s bones began to creak. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Vox’s wound was sparking. Alastor’s left hand was still holding the knife. Fortunately for him – though, unfortunately for Vox – the handle was an insulator.

“Me?” Vox all but screamed. “What the fx-ff-fuck are you doing?”

“Enforcing a well-established rule regarding touch,” Alastor informed him. His antlers grew heavier on his head and feedback crackled in both his voice and the air around them.

Somewhere, someone who was not Vox screamed. Then another. Then another. Dishes crashed to the ground, tables were flipped, demons were trampled. A cacophony of terror as the other patrons fled from the sight of two Overlords on the precipice of battle.

“The rule…” Vox’s mouth hung open dumbly for a moment before being replaced by a ‘technical difficulties’ screen.

When his face returned, it was distorted with lines of static. “The fz-fx-fucking fi-i-ive foot rule?”

Alastor twisted the knife. “That’s the one!” he said, aiming for cheery and landing on hysterical.

Vox slammed his non-injured hand down on the table. “You ssz-st-st-STILL wanna use thx-the FIVE FOOT RULE?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Bec-cx-cause we’re on a DATE!”

Alastor’s feedback spiked, screeching with the voices of every Soul that’d met their end at Alastor’s hands. For a moment, Vox’s scream was among them.

Alastor removed the knife from Vox’s hand and laid it down on the table. He reigned in his static the best that he could.

Alastor turned away from Vox. “Forget tonight ever happened.”

“Alastor-”

Alastor turned his head one-hundred and eighty degrees and all the static he’d held back returned to his voice. “Forget it.”

Alastor left the restaurant. He didn’t see Vox again for a long while.

End Notes:

Usually, I leave end notes as an AO3 exclusive perk, but these were very important end notes.

The flowers are foreshadowing. Vox doesn’t know Victorian flower language and picks them on looks alone, but they’re actually indicative of what’s to come.

Red Tulips -> Declaration of Love (Vox’s intentions for the date)

Candytufts -> Indifference (Alastor’s reaction to most of the date)

Rhododendrons -> Danger (shit’s about to go down)

There was another detail that I couldn’t manage to fit which was that the restaurant was meant to be called Carnivora, as in the order of animals Carnivora, and is staffed entirely by carnivore Sinners. Vox either didn’t notice or figured that since Alastor’s a cannibal, it wouldn’t bother him. But that was definitely part of Alastor’s innate sense of danger here.

#acealastorweek2024 #fanby’s fuckery #fanby’s fics #hazbin hotel #alastor #vox hazbin hotel #radiostatic #onewaybroadcast #aroace alastor #asexual alastor #aromantic alastor

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trelinha9 · 2 months

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Every time I see a Friede x Amethio post, ten of my neurons die. I know these posts come from new fans who only watched the episodes released on Netflix (which goes up to 13 if I'm not mistaken), and he's only appeared in 6 episodes at this point (which is a crime against my mental health. What the hell is he doing in that time offscream? I WANT ANSWERS!!!) I remember in the first episodes of Horizontes, that Tumblr and AO3 were full of posts and fics about Friede x Amethio, and they disappeared over time as the episodes went on.

It's funny, because nowadays, almost a year after Horizons officially started, fans who watch the subtitled episodes are all worried about the mental health of this teenager and wondering why the heck they are in Exploradores, while the new fans are in the same boat as most of the old ones were and abandoned, shipping the poor guy with Friede.

I personally never shipped them because:

1: Amethio is, canonically, and confirmed by his original voice actor, a teenager (on bulbapedia it said he was between 13 and 19, but now they removed that part and only added the fact that he is a teenager, without mentioning a possible age) I headcanon him as 16, because, for me, it's the age that makes the most sense for his behavior and mannerisms, but that's just me. You can imagine him as 18 or 19 if that makes you feel more comfortable shipping him with Friede, but it doesn't change the fact that he's still a young and emotionally immature person, with no apparent emotional support base other than his Pokémon and his subordinates (Zir and Conia will get there someday, I know they will), while Friede is a fully grown adult, and clearly more mature than Amethio (there's even a line about it in episode 25). Friede had already been a Pokémon teacher for probably a reasonable amount of time when Liko was around 5 to 7 years old (we find out about this in episode 18), and honestly, Amethio doesn't look that much older than Liko. The clear age difference between them makes me uncomfortable. There are a lot of adults in the Horizons cast to be shipped with Friede, leave the traumatized teenager alone.

2: The way Friede, especially in the first arc, keeps teasing Amethio, even though he's clearly irritated and on edge, makes me want to punch him. I love Friede. But the way he interacts with Amethio, one minute he's having a good time taking care of Liko and Roy, and the next he's ready to annoy the shit out of a teenager make me so angry. I love this idea that Friede is a complete social disaster who doesn't really know how to pick up cues (scareing a deaf girl, for example, is definitely something he would do by accident 👀), but there's no way he can't see how negatively his actions and words affect Amethio. Amethio wants to prove himself. He wants to fulfill the mission ordered to him, and this idiot adult, in addition to getting in the way, bothers him every chance he gets (ep 5, ep 22 and ep 25 are the best examples). I'm amazed at how Friede either doesn't really realize the harm his actions cause to Amethio, or he does and simply decides to keep doing it.

This post may make it seem like I don't like Friede, which isn't true. I love Friede. I think he's a very funny character, but he also has a lot of flaws, and bullying a teenager is one of them.

I don't want to start fights about ships, because I'm not in Horizontes for the ships, but for the story and the characters. The only ship I really like is Friede with a certain Explorer who erased a child's memory (because for the love of god, they couldn't have made their battle in the last episode any less gay, could they) I don't want to offend anyone who ships Friede and Amethio, I just wanted to give my opinion on the matter and why I, with my interpretation of the story and characters, hate this ship. (Hate is a strong word, but I feel uncomfortable whenever I see this ship somewhere)

I'm really sorry if I offended anyone at any point in this post, I just don't like seeing a teenager and an adult being shiped.

#pokemon horizons #amethio #professor friede #pokemon friede #pokemon #Amethio is my favorite character he needs therapy not romance #I tried to avoid as many spoilers as possible here #I know that this new popularity of the ship comes from new fans #and I don't want to ruin their experience with the story #but be warned: episodes 22 and 25 have a lot of interactions that I consider problematic between Amethio and Friede #“you wanna play tag?” asks Friede to the teenager who wants to throw him into a wall #Dude who you think you are?#The Collector?#And his line in ep 25 is SO MUCH WORSE #WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO A TEENAGER MY MAN?#ARE TOU INSANE?#I have a lot of fun when these two interact #it's fun #when Friede isn't being an amoeba incapable of socialization that is

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doctorprofessorsong · 2 years

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Destiel fic recs

Well, it looks like the brainrot is permanent and there is no cure. I can't seem to get enough of these dudes. Please enjoy the fruits of my unending obsession with another rec list.

Love Bites by @malmuses (Explicit, 34k)

I don't know why I love a tiny creature Dean, but this fic had my entire heart from the first chapter. Not since OctopusDean said bloop has a Dean been this adorable.

Dean, a vampire in bat form, gets injured by Cas' menace of a cat (affectionate). Cas nurses him back to health and, as Dean heals, he finds himself more and more enamored with his savior.

Cas is delightfully awkward and Dean is entirely smitten and it makes for an adorably soft dynamic. Plus I want to put bat!Dean in my pocket. He’s so cute.

Boyfriend of Thursday by mnwood @deancasheadcanons (Explicit, 40k)

Look all I'm saying is Dean deserved to be a little slutty (affectionate). This one is a romp and a delight. Dean Winchester doesn't do monogamy or commitment. Instead he has a regular hook-up every day of the week.

But when he and his Thursday call it quits, he's looking to fill the open position. It feels like he's in luck when he runs into a hot dude at Chipotle. But Dean discovers that maybe his Boyfriend of Thursday is worth breaking the rules for.

I love an openly bi, confident Dean and this Dean definitely fits the bill. This Dean is really fun and in some ways very vulnerable and he is deeply respectful of his hookups which makes it a great read. This one could have gone the other way, making him shallow and capricious, but despite his rules and his rigid system, Dean deeply cares and that makes it really fun to read.

The side characters are fantastic, plus there is positive representation of polyamory and some really interesting casting that makes this one super entertaining.

Passing Ships by quiettewandering (Mature, 78k)

Something about Dean and Cas going against fate to be with one another has always made me a little feral, so it's no surprise that a fic based on the concept that Cas, a cupid assigned to get Dean together with his soulmate Lisa, fails spectacularly when he falls in love with Dean himself would immediately draw me in.

The Cas in this fic wants so badly to do what's right, but he can't help but care about the humans. He hits all the right notes for me and i had at least ten breakdowns over him. And Dean is also just so enamored and such a disaster and you just wanna smoosh their faces.

I Can See Your Halo by redamber79 @imbiowaresbitch (series, 2 works, Explicit, 9.8k words)

This one is s-p-i-c-y and just a bit sacrilegious in the best way. Um, let's just say the author explores some novel uses for the angel blade and Cas' halo that will live inside my brain rent free for a very long time. Ahem

It also serves as a fairly delightful fix-it with a really fun resolution that will also have a condo in my mind.

It's scorching hot and a really fun read.

In It For The Long Haul by @ltleflrt (Explicit 25k)

This is the fluffiest, softest fic to soothe what ails you. Dean, a long-haul trucker, meets an intriguing waiter at a truck stop and starts reordering his life to find ways to see him again.

This fic is just pure sunshine. Cas keeps choosing meals to make Dean happy. Dean keeps blushing and flirting. The angst is low. It's really just a good time for everyone. A soft story about liminal spaces and finding someone to share your life with.

Racing Stripes by tiamatv (Mature, 37k)

I'm admittedly a sucker for a sci fi AU, but even if I wasn't I would still love this absolute gem of a story. Dean is one of the top racers in the world, finally about to live out his dream of racing in the difficult and high stakes Chicago Race. Unfortunately for him, revisiting Chicago also sets him on a crash course with the love of his life, Cas, who left him years ago for the promise of an education and a future, and even worse, Cas' dad who is dangling the same for Sammy in front of Dean’s nose.

The worldbuilding in this fic is immaculate. An abandoned and rotting Chicago is almost it's own character, and there is a quiet desperation in the story of people who have become beholden to corporations to survive. The action sequences are also gorgeous with the pivotal race being so cinematic I felt like I could see every twist and turn. And don't get me started on the gorgeous weaving of canon into the fic. It was so clever.

But the standout for me is the gentleness in Dean’s characterization. The way he wants so badly to do what's best. The way he longs for Cas. There is just something gorgeous about Racing Stripes Dean that made me want everything good for him.

Listen, I tell you a mystery by bathilda bagshot (wellthengameover) @the-lions-mouth (Teen, 25k)

Thee Dean and Mary parallel dissertation, this character study has everything. Mary trying to conform to cisheteronormative ideals while feeling the pull of hunting and a particular redheaded angel. Teenage and Stanford Era Dean to tear your heart out. Dean and Mary finding something of each other. And a happy ending for Dean and Cas.

It's told in snippets. Vignettes that delve into trauma and hope. They build an absolutely beautiful parallel story, gorgeous for their intersections and the places they diverge.

And there is a gentleness to it all. We see Mary and Dean in various states of distress and desperation. We see the effects of the cupids bow and poverty and loneliness and completely fuckery. But there is never any judgment, just kindness in the way they are written.

This one made me cry real human tears and it's definitely one that will haunt me.

A Judicious Application of Free Will by Annie D (scaramouche) @no-gorms (Explicit, 57k)

This is an older fic, but I swear Annie D has such a good grasp on Dean and Cas (or is possibly psychic) that there are elements that will make you swear it was written post canon. This one is hard to describe because it ends up with some gorgeous narrative twists that I don't want to give away. Suffice to say: Dean meets a handsome recluse, Cas, whose past threatens to engulf them.

It's twisty and ambitious, with so much heart. Canon is woven in to the story in unexpected ways and it's ultimately one of those fics that you don't want to put down.

Need more? Check out my other fic rec lists:

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/671475610652164096/new-fic-rec-list-and-this-ones-a-banger

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/660150754066169856/fic-recs-fic-recs-get-your-destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/657079735678042112/destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/653669811839270912/destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/648748102595051520/destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/649816680365752320/more-destiel-fic-recs-who-needs-sleep-when-you

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/651158094530887681/more-destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/687709943505321984/destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/685445791339462656/destiel-fic-recs

https://doctorprofessorsong.tumblr.com/post/675858601000206336/destiel-fic-recs

Tag list (let me know if you want to be tagged):

@varlysca @naturallyathief @greatbigbugger @fandoms-and-things @cascodedtech @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @deanwasalwaysbi @fellshish @valleydean @raspberry-tooth

#destiel fic rec #destiel fic recs #deancas fic rec #deancas fic recs #fic rec #spn fic rec #destiel #deancas

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malex-crack · 4 months

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"Season 4 didn't give anything for malex"

The stuff season 4 actually gave us

(This is a joke btw) this is long af too. Be prepared

Malex dating for six months.

A malex sneak peak

Michael moves in with alex

Malex being domestic af

Alex opening up to Michael about the miniature gazebo(paralleling Michael showing Alex his console s1

Michael cheesy flirt

Them hooking up on the couch( even tho it was cut it happened)

Domestically talking about work

Michael trying to fix the broken garbage disposal for Alex.

Michael panicking that he screwed up and will lose Alex

Malex maturely communicating and working through Michael's nerves

"Hey, I can live without that gazebo. What I can't live without is you."

Holding hands

Malex post disaster worry scene

Malex brain storming together

Michael getting lost in Alex's brain rambling

Flirty Alex

"Like a piece of alien glass, I don't like being parted from my alien

"I hate being away from you too"

Michael noticing Alex's hurt

"Why don't you ask your pretty lookin fella to help out?" Sanders my lovely

Sanders helping Michael pull his head out his ass with Alex

Michael trusting Alex

"You Are My Home. And I trust you to take care of my dreams"

"Your dreams and your heart..always."

Malex heart eyes

Alex trusting their relationship can survive long distance

Michael making fucking necklace for them BOTH out of the first piece of alien glass he found.

Michael also trusting no matter how far apart they are, they will always find their way back to each other.

Kissy

Alex crying/emotional because he has to leave Michael for a while

Michael unpacked his bags and no longer running

Michael lowkey seemed like he was trying to distract himself with Alex being gone

"I have a boyfriend! And I'm kinda completely in love with him!"

" He's really important to my boyfriend "

"Your boyfriend is sick!"

Michael wants Alex while being sick

"Accio Alex"

Michael wanting to discuss the possibility of going to Oasis with Alex

Michael struggling with two paths. And both feeling like the right decision. Alex vs going home

The way you can see Michael going still when he finds out Alex is missing

Michael getting upset that Alex missing was kept from him.

Michael expecting Alex to reach out to him and not others

"You don't think I was thinking of Alex every second I was risking my life"

"You knew the man that I love-"

Liz comparing her feeling of losing Max to Michael possibly losing Alex. Knowing it's the same, and he would feel the same as she did.

Michael feeling guilty he lost focus of Alex and the home they're building together.

"What I have learned from Alex-"

Michael immediately recognizing the opening of "Would you Come Home"

Going over amazed and playing the song with Alex

Michael tearing up during the song.

"Alex would always make fun of me for carrying around this old map"

Michael's face realizing where Alex is.

Immediately going to try an rescue him

"Max, give me the rope. I have to go Alex needs me!"

More panic

" I have to help him! I wasn't paying attention! I wasn't listening!"

" I am the man who helps save the love of his brothers life"

" all I care about is getting Alex back"

" imma go get my boyfriend "

" the least I can do is jump into a sinkhole to save my soulmate"

Michael stressed about not being able to open the sinkhole

"After everything Alex and I have been through our love is losing out to a hole in the ground"

"But you know who's reaching back? Alex, to you. He's out there somewhere doing his damnest to reach you through M. Every bit is determined to be with you as you are with him. That's powerful. So the minute you wanna start giving up the faith, I'll keep it for the both of you" preach Kyle

Michael's small scene of holding his necklace staring at the sinkhole in a dating obviously thinking of Alex

"We'll find it, just like I'll find alex"

"It's my one shot to see Alex"

"I want to help my friend find the man that he loves"

Michael not hesitating to go into the portal even if he can't come back.

"Now we find Alex"

"My priority is Alex"

That whole reunion tackle. Michael put his whole body into that.

Michael's face when he sees its Alex

" At least kiss me before you bust my lip" along with Alex's happy smile

Michael's heavy relief and happy smile finding Alex

The whole next scene. The kiss, holding each other, " So happy you found me" "knew you had to be here somewhere" "I'm here, your here"

Michael pride in Alex making a makeshift alien trap

Michael following Alex when he goes to sit down. (It's just so cute to me)

"Our house"

Alex putting the blanket around them both, Michael rubbing Alex's thighs, Alex gripping Michael's arm then holding his hand.

"Kinda romantic isn't it?"

References to the drive in date 1x03 in such a light way. There's no bitterness or resentment just light hearted banter

Alex saying he spent his time dating dreaming it was about star crossed lovers and that Michael was doing the same

Michael opening up and feeling guilty about thinking about going home.

The communication!

Alex being understanding because he know Michael and understands that Michael's desire ans dream of Oasis doesn't mean he loves him any less. It's just a simple dream Michael's had since being a kid.

Alex saying he will never look away no matter where they are. " roswell, Oasis, I don't care if we are on other side of the universe. As long as we are looking at the same stars, I will never look away"

The double kiss

"So this movie. How does it end?" The reference 😭

" Michael Guerin will you marry me?"

Michael inhale, the shock and love all over his face

"I can't wait to see sanders in a tux." Them both laughing so happy. "Yes," kiss," yes, I am so in love with you it's embarrassing "

Michael literally crying during the proposal

Alex's small " I love you too."

Their old people kisses laying down

" Do I have to wait till the honeymoon?" Michael being a little shit

The worry and fear Michael has finding out Alex is dying. And the hand on his chest.

" five minutes ago I was imagining wedding vows-"

" I want to marry you."

Michael being upset but giving Alex their tiny blue world wedding

Alex's smile watching Bonnie and Dallas decorate

(Malex Wedding)sign

Michael and Alex holding hands prepared to get married

Despite what Michael and Alex have both been through together, the good and the bad Alex is happy with what they've had

" how about no. We're not getting married Alex, not until we can do right at home. My vow is to not let you die period"

Michael determination to let Alex die

Michael's little tap on Alex's shoulder to reassure him

"When did you become a plant daddy?" I'm sorry but Alex calling Michael daddy was not on my s4 bingo list but I fucking love it

"Me and sander don't grow prize winning sunflowers every year on sheer luck and sunshine, baby" Michael called Alex baby in return. Is it just me or did those names come naturally to them

Alex's smile

" ooo a long hot shower with the man you love" Michael's smirk, Alex's blush and cute scrunch

Michael carrying Alex into the Crashdown, being all husbandly

Michael's gentleness in his movements and his voice. Cupping Alex's cheek.

Michael's panic realizing how bad Alex is getting

"You refused to leave my side when I went chasing after Jones, I am returning the favor "

" my heart is about to explode. I am scared to death I am going to lose you today" meaning the thought of losing Alex making him feel like his heart is going to literally explode in dear.

Michael literally carrying Alex everywhere

Michael realizing Alex needs a minute to rest, and helps take care of him

About to flip shit crying because the portal closed

Michael immediately going to Alex when he calls and holds his hands.

"Do not talk about my fiance like that"

" I should've never refused to marrying because all I've wanted my entire life was to make you happy and I wanted to build a home together "

Alex talking Michael down and calming him, helping him realize he can get them out of there

That whole scene, holding each other's hands, the concern, gentleness, Michael rubbing Alex's chin randomly

"I wanna marry Alex more than anything" thank you Michael for saying this.

"Who wants to go to a wedding?" Michael's happy smile. The way he did not hesitat to say that

" wanna know how I knew it was time to ask Michael to move in with me? I listened to my heart"

"Maybe we should just elope?" Michael pre-wedding panic was absolutely adorable.

"Finally imbraced my destiny " aka belonging with Alex

That whole wedding speech. "The man that I love" "my husband"

Michael on stage in front of all their friends and family playing a song for Alex 😭😭

Michael's first look up and Alex's during the wedding is absolutely precious.

Them holding hands smiling so happily.

Watching them exchange rings and their happy smiles after

That kiss on stage in front of everyone

"I married my highschool sweetheart "

Them dancing and laughing together

" here I was thinking about the future, can't wait to sign my first check. Alex Guerin. I've never been much of a Manes man"

Them dancing in the background. Pressed up against each other so tightly

Honeymoon teases

" as a reminder the next chapter in your life will be written by you and Alex "

" Your destiny is with Alex "

Michael kissing Alex's hand in the truck, " Let's get the hell outta here"

Malex literally driving off into the night together

Season 4 missed Alex but completely understandable why he was not there. But this season killed me in the best way ever

#roswell new mexico #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #alex guerin

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sirowsky-stories · 8 months

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The Old Prince

Part 4

Author's Note: Hello, again! I still can't get this story out of my head. I'm introducing a new element to it in this chapter, which we'll all get more acquainted with in the next one, but I'm adding an image at the end of this one, to give you all an idea of what it'll look like.

Description: After realizing that Oberyn hasn't been honest with you, life back home has becomes anxious, filled with questions that you fear may never be answered. But you still have to try and find some normality, and this year's Thanksgiving Ball seems like a good place to start.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, eventual romance, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, lots of angst in this one, overprotective coworker, slightly jealous Oberyn. Word Count: 6030 Author's Masterlist

You’re back at work already the next day. Halloween has come and gone, which means it’s time to prepare for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and since you’re one of only four employees at the local holiday specials store, you’re sorely needed. September through December are the busiest months for this type of store, so every day you’re not all working is a minor disaster. But if you’re honest, it isn’t your loyalty to the job that’s responsible for your quick return or the extra hours you’re putting in.

It’s simply because the job is the only thing that takes your mind off him.

When you’re home, he’s all you can think about. You hear his voice as clearly as if he’s standing in the room with you, asking questions about your life and then letting you prattle on for hours. Something you had attributed to his kind nature and polite manners. Now though, it seems more like he was trying to learn as much about you as he could, for reasons you don’t dare to even imagine.

He’d asked you about trivial things, like what book you’d last read or if you prefer to stack your firewood bark side up or down, which you still can’t see the harm in having told him. But he’d also asked you about your work, your people, your interests and how you spend your days, the answers to which must’ve allowed someone of his age and accumulated knowledge of people, to fully grasp your personality and character.

So, why is that making you have a mild panic attack every time you think about it? Because you have no idea what he might do with that knowledge. Maybe he was just curious. Maybe it makes no difference at all what you’ve told him. It is possible that he really was just happy for the company. It’s the “what if” that plagues you.

Because if he does decide to use his knowledge against you, the odds will be entirely in his favor, since you know nothing about him in comparison. You want to believe that you wouldn’t have fallen for him (and you did fall for him) if he is indeed the monster that tried to kill you. But in truth, there’s no way that you could know that with any certainty. Just like there’s nothing you can do to protect yourself from him, either way.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

The hours are endless and deafeningly silent in the days after your departure. He has never been one to wander, to have that restless tremor within, pulling one to their feet and refusing to let them remain still. But he does now. The stone will quickly turn polished with all his wandering, should the feeling not subside soon enough, which it gives no indication that it will.

So, he wanders. Through each of the nine wings and up into each of the nine towers, yours being the tallest, and the only one he lingers in. The only place that now offers him peacefulness. He is aware that he still calls it yours, even though your stay was brief, and you will never again reside there. But it holds so much of your scent still.

He sits there for hours sometimes, forgetting time all together as he drinks in your skin, hair, the faint lavender scent of your own sheets which you brought with you to this bed. He wonders how long it will take before he will no longer recall the softness of your lips. He thinks of them often, in the hopes that the memory might remain fresh to his senses for a little longer.

But after only one week, his resolve is already faltering. He dreams of you. Wakes up screaming and drenched in sweat at the memory of his teeth embedded in your soft and tender flesh. And other times, when the dream has been wonderful… he wakes up erect, longing so desperately for the mere touch of your skin against his own, that he cannot refrain from pleasuring himself to the very thought.

This does not shame him, though. He is much too old to concern himself with the public perception of what is considered right or wrong among the many varieties of carnal pleasures. The modern world would likely frown at his history of dalliances, as he has always been a man of omnivorous taste. He has never coveted children, but gender has never been an obstacle to pleasure, in his eyes.

He has found that women offer a comfort and an emotional closeness that the males with which he has explored enjoyment in the past, have not given as freely. But this was long ago. The world has changed much since then, and gender appears to have become less rigid of late, which Oberyn finds most agreeable. Still, it’s in a woman’s embrace he has most often felt at home and wanted, beyond that of the carnal.

And then there is you. His Valya, though his only by name, not commitment. The first person ever to command such control over his mind and senses. He feels almost enslaved by your very being, as though your mere existence demands his servitude. And surprisingly, he has no objections to this.

A terrible fatigue and weariness with the centuries upon centuries of managing himself, always fearful that a moment’s loss of control will result in carnage, has taken root within his being, and will not be untethered. It festers there, making him increasingly agitated, whilst also draining him of all desire and every grain of levity that he had once possessed.

But in your company, all this turns pale, irrelevant and silenced. You have freed his heart and brought light back to his soul, and now that he has felt it once more, he cannot stand the loss. The slow, but still so noticeable, reversion to that caged and lonesome man who spends every waking moment fearing the dragon more than any man who might encounter him.

Still, you are not as a drug to him. He does not crave you the way a drinker craves the bottle, enslaved by the need to consume, dull, and forget. Instead, he feels only brightened, strengthened and awakened by you. In your presence, Oberyn comes alive, for the first time in ages feeling stronger than the beast, and therefor less controlled by it.

Every waking moment, his mind looks for ways to relate to you. Everything he sees, smells, touches, it all somehow becomes about you, because that is how dearly he misses you. And it’s getting worse. Each day, he battles with himself over whether he has just cause to seek you out once again, and every day, pushing the victory to your favor becomes that much harder.

He knows that he will eventually fail, because even if he flew to the other side of the world, there would be nothing to stop him from returning. Your house, work and people are known to him, so the day that he eventually fails to convince himself that you are always safer away from him, he will have no trouble finding you.

It was you that kissed him. He did not ask you to. And that is the carrot which forever dangles before his lips, sweetening his thoughts with the notion that you might do so again, if given a chance.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

It takes three weeks before you begin to be able to walk around outside your own house after dark, without fighting panic at the sight of every deep dark shadow, expecting to see golden eyes glowing as they stalk you. The fear is still there, but with every day that passes without any sighting of the serpent, you’re starting to become less controlled by it.

You tell yourself that he wouldn’t have let you go just to come after you again, that would’ve been pointless. But you also wonder if the woman who’d owned this house before you, and who’d vanished without a trace one day over eight years ago, had really wandered off and gotten lost like people think, or if she too could’ve encountered your captor.

All in all, over the past fifty years, the Seven Hills have claimed nearly thirty lives, half of which have been accidents when people have underestimated the danger of some of the trails, falling to their deaths over cliff-edges, or simply getting lost. But the other half are unaccounted for. People who just vanished out there. Assumed to have fallen into crevasses or perhaps been buried under mudslides. Natural events.

If Oberyn hadn’t brought you back, you would’ve become part of that statistic. Which is a frightening thought. It’s all frightening. Just the reality that dragons aren’t a myth is enough to make you shiver in your bed when you’re trying to sleep, which you haven’t been able to do much of recently. Fortunately, the holidays are tightly packed at this time of year, so you have no problems staying busy.

The city council made a brilliant move around a decade ago, with the decision to create a separate account for all profits earned by tourism. The Seven Hills isn’t a city which depends financially on tourism, so it didn’t affect the overall economy. And the brilliance of this move, lay in what that money has since been earmarked for. Which is celebrations.

Holidays, anniversaries, and other significant events are all celebrated with parades, formal balls or just big parties, all at the expense of that one account. The idea had come from a police officer, who had been concerned about a steady incline of violent crimes, and her hope had been that people who have fun together might be less likely to harm one another. Which had happily turned out to be correct.

So, when you wake up on Thanksgiving morning, having managed to scrape together a handful hours of decent sleep, it isn’t a family dinner you’re planning on going to. Not that you have any family to celebrate with, even if you’d wanted to. You were an angel baby, left at the front steps of the local church when you were just days old. The woman who’d ended up raising you had been lovely, and your relationship with her had been good, right up until she’d died shortly after you’d turned sixteen.

After that, the city had become your family, albeit a distant one. You like your coworkers and you do hang out with them outside of work now and then, but you’re not close. You don’t talk to them about personal stuff. Perhaps because you’d started your life being abandoned, that’s what you’ve come to expect from everyone, so you shield yourself from caring too much. From letting people in.

Which is why Oberyn’s betrayal hit you so hard. Because you did let him in. Against the wisdom of all your experience and even the fact that you had literally no reason at all to trust him, you’d told him everything that you never tell anyone. In just a few days, he’d somehow managed to make you feel safer with him than with any other person you’ve ever met, and he’d done that despite knowing that he was the one who’d almost killed you.

“Stop it…” you tell yourself, closing your eyes for a moment over your morning tea, because you’d promised yourself that you’re not gonna let him ruin this day.

Not Thanksgiving. Not the one day of the year specifically dedicated to remembering and celebrating the positives. This year, the city’s celebration is gonna be a ball at the old courthouse. It’s the fanciest building in town, made of stone and actually resembling a castle more than anything you’d normally associate with legal matters.

It was commissioned in the late 1800’s by a wealthy lord who wanted criminals to know just how far removed from greatness they were, so he had every piece of metal within the courthouse coated with gold and silver, and every chair was made for comfort and splendor. Except the one offered to the accused, which was just the simplest and cheapest wooden chair that could be made.

Because of the small fortune of precious metals, the house was prone to burglary and vandalism, so over time, its splendor lessened and by the time they stopped using it, some fifty years later, it was far from the opulence of its original state. But around thirty years ago, the city decided that since it’s a historic building, it should be preserved, and spent two years and a lot of money on restoring it. And while the metals are fake these days, it still looks every bit as pretentious as it was always meant to. It’s a perfect venue for any kind of party, though. And especially a ball.

You’ve had a dress picked out and ready since before Halloween, but because you’re also part of the crew for this event, you won’t be putting it on until you’re already there. It’s packed and ready, along with some makeup and hair styling stuff, all of which you’ll need to remember to bring so that you can get changed once your work is done. All the staff from the shop try to help out for these kinds of events because you’re the town’s experts on decorations, and you all enjoy getting to apply your skills on a bigger scale now and then.

The party starts at 4 pm, with the mayor of the city giving his annual thankfulness speech, which is never as dull as it sounds, because the mayor is a former standup comedian, of all things. And although he’s pushing seventy now, he still knows how to work a crowd and get a good mood going. After that, the dance begins. It’s a blend of classics like foxtrot and waltz, as well as line dance and even hip-hop, but the first one is always a traditional square dance.

Everyone who lives here knows that one, because if you chose not to participate in the first dance, hardly anyone will talk to you for the rest of the evening because they’ll assume that you’re a person who just hates fun. You know that because you made that mistake as a teenager. After the dance, when everyone’s gotten their appetite going, the Thanksgiving dinner is served, and then the program ends and people can just hang around or go home.

You arrive at the courthouse shortly before 9 am, after tending to Casper and triple checking that you remembered everything, finding two of your colleagues already there.

“Hey, Boo,” Simon calls to you as you walk in with your bags.

It’s a nickname you’ve earned over time, by managing to individually scare every one of your coworkers into falling to the floor, just by saying “boo”.

“Hey, Si. How are we doing?” you answer, dropping your stuff in a corner and then looking over the boxes of decorations.

“We brought all the labelled boxes, and Kelli remembered the glitter cannons.”

“What about the balloons?”

“Oh, yeah, Micah’s already working on those,” he says, and gestures casually towards an unspecified area of the building.

“Great, then I’ll get started on the leaves and garlands. Unless you want help with the tables?” you ask, looking out over the large open space that had once been the waiting hall and grand foyer.

It had been made to look like something out of the roman empire, with giant marble pillars recessed into the walls, serving no purpose other than to add to the grandeur of the room. The hall cuts through the entire length of the building, perhaps a hundred yards long, and easily thirty yards wide, with a curved ceiling around fifteen feet off the floor at the center, and five big crystal chandeliers dangling from up there.

It’s full of tables today, but the size of the room makes them look like something from a dollhouse. In contrast, the empty courtroom which will serve as the dancehall, looks smaller than it is.

“Nah, I’m good. You get going on that, I’ll let you know if I need your help,” Simon replies, so you smile and nod, before grabbing a box and setting off to the right where the big double doors to the courtroom stand open.

It’s fun work, getting to decorate a place like this, and while all four of you initially work separately, soon enough, you’re all helping Simon in the foyer, because the tables always take longest and requires the most precision.

“You know, you really didn’t need to bring your makeup, Boo,” Kelli says when you’re working side by side on the finishing touches of the table decorations.

“What do you mean?” you ask her, but you have an idea of where she’s going with this.

“Look, I don’t know where you went, but if it’s true that you were just lost in the woods, then you must’ve found the fountain of youth or something.”

She doesn’t sound envious or even annoyed, just disappointed, and you want to retort so badly. To rebel against the notion that you’ve lied about getting lost in the woods just to cover up a trip to some fucking beauty clinic, or whatever. But you can’t, because you can’t explain the change in your appearance.

“Oh, I found something…” you say between tight jaws, unable to hold back your frustration at the mere thought of the slithering serpent.

She can tell from your tone that asking any further questions isn’t gonna end well, so she changes the topic, instead getting back to the evening and how excited she is. But when the time comes for the four of you to get ready, you find yourself standing there in your dress, staring in the mirror at the face that isn’t yours, and yet, is somehow also the perfect you.

Not perfectly symmetrical or flawless in that kinda way, but just… perfect in a sense of natural beauty, perhaps. Kelli’s right, putting makeup on is basically redundant, since there’s nothing really to improve. And if you’d had a choice in the matter, it might not have felt so artificial. But it does. It feels anything but natural.

“Not today,” you remind yourself, meeting your own eyes in the reflection. “You can wallow as much as you want tomorrow, but today, you’re thankful to be alive and to have all the comforts you need. And for Casper, your white knight. Even though he ran away.”

When you walk back out into the grand hall, you’re met by the sight of people pouring in through the massive, double oak doors, in a slow and happily chatting procession. They’re allowed to sit at the tables if they want to, even though dinner isn’t for several hours yet, since there are only a few stone benches available throughout the building for anyone needing to rest their legs.

Everyone knows who you are, so as you make your way through the crowd, you’re met with greetings and polite nods, but also a lot of slightly stunned and gaping faces as they look you over. You try to ignore it and just focus on finding your colleagues, but soon enough, you’re hearing people whispering about you as you pass them. And suddenly you’re regretting picking such a glamorous dress.

It’s golden in color, which you’d picked because of how perfectly it compliments your skin tone, but which now makes it feel flamboyant and excessive. But it’s also the simplicity of it that drew you to it. There aren’t any garnishes, it’s just a softly flowing fabric that hugs your form in a very gentle and comfortable way. Not too tight anywhere, not restricting your movements at all, since the skirt is designed to make it look like liquid gold in motion.

By the time you reach Simon, standing at the door to welcome people, you’re regretting having come here at all today.

“Hey… are you alright?” he asks when he sees you, and while you notice that he too roams over your form with wide eyes, unlike everyone else, he doesn’t comment on it, and his gaze returns to your face with a concerned wrinkle between his brows.

“Everyone looks at me like I’m a freak,” you whisper, dropping your head forwards to not have to see anyone’s scrutiny anymore.

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t be particularly concerned about people’s opinion of you, and again, if this change had been your choice, you could’ve held your head high and ignored them. But since it wasn’t, you’re left feeling unfairly judged, and knowing that you’re also incapable of defending yourself on this matter just makes it that much worse.

Instead of trying to comfort you by telling you that there’s nothing wrong with you, Simon turns away from the crowd and gives you a long and firm hug. Because that’s the kind of person he is. He suffers from terrible anxiety himself, something he’s learned to live with and knows how to manage for himself, but which also makes him really good at understanding that words can be powerless against feelings sometimes.

You thank him before he lets you go, because he’s already made you feel better, and he just smiles in return before getting back to work. You stay there next to him, letting his calm and positive energy infect you while you try to avoid looking at any one person for too long as you help him welcome them to the celebration. The mayor is the only one who stops to shake your hands and thank you for your work, before he steps inside and prepares to deliver his speech.

As always, he executes it with practiced ease and has the crowd in tears of laughter before the end, even though he’s managed to fit in serious things like being thankful for the continued decline in crime rates, or how well the city has recovered after a local factory had burned down six months ago. He finishes by encouraging everyone to step over to the courtroom for the dance, and everyone does.

The wonderful thing about dancing is that no one cares all that much what anyone else is wearing or how they look, as they move across the floor together. It’s just about having fun and letting the rhythm take you. Still, once the square dance is done, Simon kindly comes to your rescue when no one on the floor offers to pair up with you for the next dance, which is a foxtrot.

He’s not the best dancer in the room, but again, none of that matters as the point is to let go of expectations and enjoy yourselves free of judgement. He doesn’t step away when the song ends and you’ve taken your bows, preparing to lead you on for the next one as well, but just as you take your positions, there’s a voice to your right.

“May I cut in?”

You stop breathing at the mere sound of it. The voice that’s haunted your thoughts and dreams for weeks now, the voice that heats your blood and sends shivers along your skin.

“Uh… sure,” you hear Simon hesitantly agree, since you’re not objecting, and then step away.

Still not breathing, you look up as the much taller Oberyn takes his place, confidently taking your waist and then your hand, sending sparks through you with his mere touch. He looks exactly the same, donning his customary green coat and black trousers, as suitable at a black-tie event as they’d seemed in the dark and mysterious castle.

The coat is one of those stand-up collar ones, with around fifteen silk buttons leading from his Adam’s apple down to his waist, where the weight of the fabric holds the two sides close together down to just below his knees. And the sleeves stop over the base of his hands, not at the wrist, so whatever he might be wearing underneath, no one can see it.

The only other time you’ve been this close to him (aside from the kiss) was when he’d carried you inside that first day, and you hadn’t been paying this close attention to him then. But you are now. Because you wholeheartedly suspect him of being a monster underneath those clothes. Still, not one bone in your body is telling you to run.

“Breathe, Kaivalya,” he whispers close to your ear, and your body responds as if it had been a command, desperately filling your lungs until you start to feel dizzy.

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” you whisper back, just as the dance begins and he starts to waltz you around the room as elegantly as if he’d been a professional dancer.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” he agrees, and then pauses before adding: “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The air flowing over his skin as he moves sends his natural fragrance straight into your nostrils, and it makes your knees weaken, stoking the heat that already simmers somewhere in your gut, clouding your thoughts with desire. But it’s that feeling that gives you the strength to push away from him. It scares you. The hypnotic way that you react to him. And that fear is enough to give you back your senses.

You step back, almost colliding with another dancing pair, and when he lets go of you, you turn and start to make your way to the exit. The air suddenly feels thick and hard to inhale, strangling you as you try to free yourself of the crowd, the music, and the strange sensation of your brain being caged by your own senses.

Reaching the brisk winter air outside of the main entrance, you stop, holding on to a lamppost at the top of the stairs not to fall over with how dizzy you feel. A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, but it isn’t Oberyn’s. Simon has noticed what’s happened and followed you outside. He’s a good guy, and you can imagine how that scene in there must’ve looked to him. But you would’ve preferred it if he’d left you alone this time.

“Who is that guy, Boo? You want me to get rid of him?” he asks, but before you can answer, you feel him twitch and pull away from you.

“You could not remove me however hard you tried, boy,” Oberyn says, and you can hear a dark tinge to his voice now.

But it’s not arrogance. It sounds more like… jealousy.

“That’s not up to me. If my friend doesn’t want you here, then you’re not staying, and I’ve got plenty of people here that’ll back me up if I ask them,” Si persists, entirely undeterred by the other man’s superiority.

There’s a slightly possessive edge to the way he says “my friend” which would ordinarily have made you feel appreciative of his protectiveness, because you’re not actually that close. But today, it makes you feel like a toy being fought over, and you don’t like it. You straighten up, having finally gotten yourself under control, just in time to see the serpent step closer to your colleague.

“That’s enough, both of you!” you call out to get their attention. “Simon, go back inside.”

“Boo-…” he begins to protest, but you cut him off.

“I just needed some air, I’m fine. Please, just go so that we can talk.”

He hesitates, throwing a suspicious glance at the other man, but then does what you’ve asked. Because in the end, he knows that you’d never agree to be alone with someone that you fear might hurt you. But the things is, you do fear that Oberyn might hurt you. You just also need answers, badly enough that you’re prepared to demand them now that he’s here and can answer you.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you admit once the two of you are alone. “But I’m pretty sure that we have very different reasons why.”

He remains at a respectful distance now that you’re not dancing, and you notice that the heat from before is starting to fade, leaving you exposed to the winter chill. You cross your arms over your waist to keep them warm. There are no sleeves on your dress, so the slight breeze is already threatening to make you shiver. Why is it that whenever you’re around this man, you’re either too hot or too damned cold?

“What are your reasons, my lady?” he asks, and his voice is soft now.

Not inviting or seductively soft, but more like it’s been subdued by worry and trepidation.

“I need to know… what you are,” you say quietly, watching his face without blinking for fear that you might miss some revealing detail.

But his features remain unchanged, and no answer seems to come to his lips, so you step closer while trying to fortify yourself against something, but you’re not even sure what.

“Are you the one that bit me?” you ask, damned near choking on the last two words, but still, he remains statuesque before you, driving your fear into frustration. “Damned it, you owe me answers, Oberyn! Tell me the truth…… Are you the serpent?”

For what seems like one endless moment, he merely stares back at you. But then, ever so slowly, a terrible sadness begins to flood his eyes. He bows his head and closes them, perhaps trying to stop the feeling, but it just spreads. Spilling into his brows and forehead, and then down to his cheeks and mouth. It’s subtle, and yet so distinct. So unmistakably sorrowful, as if drawn from the sky and the deepest recesses of the earth, filling every cell of his being with a pain unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“I will not ask your forgiveness… I could never earn such a thing,” he says, speaking so quietly now that you have to step even closer just to hear him. “I ask only that you believe me when I say that I never wanted to hurt you.”

He opens his eyes again, and when he finds you standing closer, he backs away and shifts his hands behind his back, as if trying to keep them from reaching for you.

“I saw you running, and I tried to distract myself by going after Casper, but it was too late. I had already caught your scent,” he explains, and you’re mildly impressed that he isn’t making excuses or trying to convince you that he’s worthy of redemption.

“And if I were to run away now?” you wonder, trying to understand how the man and the beast are connected.

“I would let you,” he replies quickly, clearly eager to make you feel as safe as you can around him. “In my human form, my human instincts are in control. You are never in danger from… me.”

“But if you were to become that thing right now…?” you press on, still far from convinced of your own safety.

He thinks on that for a moment, and there seems to be something uncertain to his conclusion.

“The real reason why I sedated you for the journey home, was because I needed to fly you back,” he begins, and you can’t stop the sharp gasp and the two steps that you stumble backwards, away from him, as you hear that. “But even the beast is enchanted with you now, Valya. I want only to protect you, no matter what form I might take,” he finishes, unable to keep himself from coming closer and extending a hand to you.

“No, you stay away from me,” you warn, stepping back further.

He stops cold, and the sorrow in his eyes transforms into something you can only describe as the purest pain imaginable. It cuts and tears at your heart, because even though he did hurt and lie to you, he doesn’t deserve to suffer this severely for it. But however much you might want to ease his pain, you don’t know how, because you can’t reconcile with what he’s done to you.

“As you wish, my lady,” he says, and his voice breaks at each word.

He straightens himself, and then bows fully, dropping his entire torso halfway forwards in a perfect display of submission. And when he rises again, tears have filled his eyes to the brim.

“Always…” he adds in a barely audible whisper, and then he turns and starts to walk down the front steps of the courthouse.

The air cools significantly as he departs, and you wonder if that’s just your senses tricking you, or if he really does warm his surroundings by his presence alone. Then, just as he reaches the ground, a faint glow appears in the sky, maybe a hundred feet to his left, and seems to swoop down over him. He sees it, and stops walking to follow its journey with his gaze, as it makes an elegant turn which changes its direction towards you.

And when it does, you can see that it’s an owl. But not like any you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost transparent, and when it flaps its wings, they seem to leave entire galaxies of stars behind them, fading as quickly as they appear. It flies straight at you, landing on top of the half-pillar that makes up the corner of the stone railing to the staircase, where it folds its wings back and just stares at you.

Mesmerized by its large blue eyes, you stare back, feeling as though an infinite mass of knowledge lies within this creature, and that it uses this knowledge to judge you. It’s about the size of the golden eagle named Marahute in that Disney movie with the mouse rescuers, but the fact that you can almost see through it makes it slightly less imposing.

If it is judging you in some way, it can’t be too damning a conclusion because you feel no discomfort from the being. In fact, for the entire time it stares at you, you feel nothing at all. Then suddenly, it opens its wings and takes off with one large leap, fading into nothingness within just one little second.

“Wow…” you breathe, having completely forgotten your worries for a moment.

“You saw it?” Oberyn asks from his spot on the ground at the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah, it was amazing. What is it?” you wonder, taking your eyes from the sky and back to him, finding him looking extremely puzzled.

“She is the Sky-spirit: Caelum. But…… humans cannot see her.”

You stare into his eyes while his words reach you, and the implication behind them slowly sinks in. The temporary reprieve of your emotional turmoil is wrung from you with ruthless force, and this time, it’s your eyes that are suddenly brimming with tears, your frame that’s brutally tortured by the inescapable truth.

“What did you do to me…?” you accuse, glaring at him now because all you have left to turn to is anger. “What am I? What did you turn me into?”

But as horrible as you feel, as much as these thoughts are plaguing you, your feelings still somehow pale compared to the enormity of his. The knowledge that he’s robbed you of your own reality, seemingly without him even knowing how or understanding why, is mercilessly demolishing him from the inside.

“I don’t know…” he confesses. “I am so deeply sorry, my dear… I have no answers.”

Your tears fall as the cold finally creeps into your blood and makes you shiver. Hugging yourself, trying to come to terms with the thought that you don’t know who you are anymore, you feel so lost. But then the air around you is warmed up once again, and you look up to find Oberyn before you. He takes you in his arms and hugs you close, flooding your body with that same heat as before, even now when you��re in too much distress to feel anything good.

“But I will not stop until I have found them,” he promises, then he kisses your temple, pulls away, and with a gust of wind, he’s suddenly just gone.

Part 5

The Ten Spirits of the World Air - Forest - Water - Stone - Night - Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer. (No, I didn't miss one. You'll see.)

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you wish to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

@kittenlittle24 @joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

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sombersynth · 2 years

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Steddie Fanfiction Rec Masterpost pt. 2

I'm so happy that people liked my first Steddie fanfiction rec post, so I wanted to make another one to share even more amazing fics with everyone! Some of these are still being updated. I hope you enjoy!

Looking For Something Dumb to Do by Materialism, 2.5 k, explicit It's June 26, 2015. Eddie Munson turns fifty today. Steve has a question for him. (hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.)

Wasteland, Baby! by Coloredlove8, 43 k, explicit Nancy's look softened, her arms coming uncrossed, "Oh Stevie" She reached out and placed her hands on his cheeks, "it's something to do with Eddie, isn't it?" His eyes snapped up to look at her face, "How do you-" She smiled at him, "You can't see how you look at him." "How do I look at him?" He whispered. Her right thumb swiped against the sensitive skin under his eye, "Like you looked at me."

It Struck Me Deep (It Brought Me to My Knees) by Gorgeousgreymatter, 14.8 k, explicit It’s not even the nightmares most of the time. At this point, Steve would totally settle for some up close and personal time in his brainpan with the Upside Down if it meant he could actually fucking sleep.

In Too Deep by Hansbbrenton, 33 k, explicit Steve Harrington is having a hard time coming to terms with his identity, and a certain classmate is making things harder for him. He has to get help from an unlikely team, but learns that real love is out there. (Set in 1984/season 2 of the show)

Burn With Me (Heaven's On Fire) by Alexander_Slamilton, 32 k, mature “I think,” Steve mumbles, “I think I… I’m a little bit like you.” “In a gay way?” Robin asks, nudging him with her shoulder. “Yeah. I think so,” Steve whispers. “At least a little bit in a gay way.”

Easy, Easy, Easy by Judasofsuburbia, 25 k, explicit Eddie would be tucking kids into bed and reading them stories. Eddie would be making road-trip trail mix and packing a cooler with water bottles and juice boxes. Eddie as his life partner, the constant variable throughout anything. It no longer felt so scary to think about it. The fact that it wasn’t scary to think about in and of itself was scary but Steve has handled scary before. Multi-Chapter Fic showcasing slices of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson living life together.

Money, Power, Glory by Anonymous, 15 k, explicit Steve starts paying Eddie for sex once he discovers that Eddie doesn't just deal drugs and perform at the Hideout. (Steve doesn't mean to fall in love with him, but he can’t help himself.)

The Art of Scraping Through by Robotguts, 2.5 k, teens and up Modern/Fake Dating AU. Steve doesn't mean to tell his entire 6th period English class that he's dating Eddie Munson. It just slips out. (He is not, in fact, dating Eddie Munson.)

The Touch Campaign by Damn_Illusive, 4 k, not rated Steve realizes that Eddie never touches him the way he touches everyone else. No bear hugs, no hair ruffles, not even a handshake. It's a silly thing to get hung up on but Steve can't seem to let it go.

Camp Folktale, Summer of ‘86 by Cairparavels, 58 k, not rated When Steve applies for a summer camp per Dustin's request, he doesn’t expect to have the most interesting summer of his life. Featuring a sulky metalhead who hates Steve for no reason, eight kids set on driving Steve to an early grave, Robin Buckley’s ability to charm any girl she wants, and Steve’s bisexual disaster-slash-dream-slash-nightmare. But hey, that’s what summer camp is all about. Right?

Stranger in a Strange Land by Mutedmirror, 12 k, explicit Eddie Munson, stoner college drop out, meets Steve Harrington, part-time grocery store clerk, during a late night shoplifting run to curb the munchies. What happens when Eddie makes his get away, only to find out he may not be rid of Steve just yet?

You’re My Permanent Vacation by Owlerie, 8 k, teens and up When Eddie lets Dustin convince him to volunteer at the kids’ summer camp for a little extra campaign time thrown in the mix, the last thing he expects is to be shacked up in a counselor’s cabin with resident cool guy and babysitter extraordinare Steve Harrington — who Eddie is pretty sure hates his guts. It’s too bad Eddie’s been nursing a massive — and massively embarrassing — crush on him for years.

Sedated by Rottin, 3.6 k, explicit There’s something along his scalp, for second Steve thinks it’s a bug and goes to swat it away; but then the ‘bug’ twirls a piece of hair around a finger, plays with the strand, then there’s nails on his scalp and— …Eddie is playing with his hair. Eddie is playing with his hair.

#steddie #steveddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic rec #steveddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfiction recs #steddie fic #my fic recs

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nothingtoseeherebyeexx · 1 year

Text

Delicate, Chapter Two: …Ready For It?

same disclaimer as last time this is just for funsies and i’m not a writer !! also we’ve unlocked cissa and lily povs!!

CW: a bit of alcohol-related struggles

< prev chapter next chapter >

“Lily that was mental! You can’t just say things like that, especially in your situation! What if you get sued?”

“The money you waste on PR teams, I invest in lawyers!” Lily replied, dropping her keys on the table, an exasperated Alice following her inside their home.

“She brought up Snape,” Lily justified herself with a sigh, “You know how I get when they bring up Snape.”

They had just come back from Rita Skeeter’s show, and of course it had been a complete disaster: that woman loved to pick the touchiest topics during her live shows, banally exploiting private matters for views and publicity. That was one of the two reasons most celebrities refused to be her guests, the other being that she was generally a very unpleasant woman to interact with.

A right bitch, if you will.

However, Lily’s situation was…singular.

About a year before she had upset a few (many) big shots in the music and acting industries, gaining a lot of enemies and getting terrible backlash. It had been a horrible year, and thankfully her friends were there for her, but she wanted to get back on the scene. She wasn’t going to let some rich assholes dim her light.

So, of course, when Rita Skeeter had offered her an interview, she had accepted out of desperation. Like an idiot.

“She read one of Avery’s Tweets and you went crazy!” whined Alice.

“I didn’t go crazy-“

“‘How is Lily Evans still relevant? She only makes songs about Snape, he basically made her famous’ And what did you say, Lily?”

Lily bit her lip, remembering the moment with just the tiniest bit of shame. The smile Rita had on her lips while reading that stupid Tweet, the blind rage it had caused.

“Please remind me, what did you say?”

“Something mature and responsible, i’m sure-“

“You said, and I quote, ‘Just to let Avery Jr know, I was the one who made that bitch fucking famous’” Alice countered, eyebrows raised.

Lily swallowed. “…I didn’t say anything else though, did I?”

“Because they cut the cameras!”

“Listen,” rebutted Lily, sitting on the sofa in their living room and pulling out her phone.

“I may have implied that he’s gay but it’s not my fault if he finds that offensive! It’s his problem, really, and he can’t bring that up to court.”

“I think you should focus on the fact that you called Severus Snape a bitch, and that he would be a nobody if it weren’t for you,” countered Alice, taking a pot of peach yoghurt from the fridge. “I pity Longbottom, really: lately being your manager seems like a fucking nightmare.”

“Good thing he’s good at his job, then. He’s like part of the family now.” Lily looked up from her phone smiling, “You are the mum, he’s the dad, Marlene is the reckless younger sister and i’m the angry teen full of hatred for this world.”

“We’re both too young to be your parents, and he might be suspicious of his wife writing about women in her love songs, you know.” Alice smiled, taking a spoonful of yoghurt. “What are you watching?”

“Oh, it’s Narcissa’s last show,” explained Lily with a shrug, “She performed a few songs for a festival last week and I heard great things about a certain performance…apparently she’s been working with this girl for a few months, singing together. She’s been hiding a gem, that’s what her fans have been saying.”

“And how come you’re suddenly so interested in Narcissa Black? Didn’t know you were a fan of hers.” Alice got closer, leaning over Lily’s head to watch the video on her phone. She carried the faint smell of peaches and the weight of past personal issues in her voice, but Lily wasn’t going to pry. Much.

“I like her music, actually. But it’s this new girl that really piqued my interest. New blood, always exciting.” Lily paused the video and decided to push her luck, just a bit. “They remind me of us, you know: a younger singer, guided by a-“

“I’m not like Black. And you were already popular when we started living together with Marlene, so I don’t think it counts.” Alice cut her off, harshly, and started walking away. “I’m going to my room, see if I can write something.”

Lily silently accepted her defeat and swiftly changed topic. “Pizza tonight?”

But Alice had already gone up to her room, so Lily took it as permission to order whatever she wanted.

She had no clue what Alice’s issue with Narcissa Black was: in the three years she had been living with her, Alice had never given a sign of knowing Black, and Lily could’ve easily thought Alice had absolutely no connection to her.

However, the way Alice became quiet whenever Narcissa showed up on TV and how she’d turn off the radio when Black’s songs were playing indicated otherwise: in Lily’s opinion, Alice was trying really hard to hide her…hatred? No, not hatred-distaste for Narcissa, but her indifference was a too-long practiced craft for it to be genuine.

Lily thought that constantly trying to ignore someone counted as actually thinking about them, and she had therefore concluded that Alice Fortescue was mildly obsessed with Narcissa Black.

Marlene and Frank agreed that there was something going on between the two, or at least there had been, so Lily supposed she wasn’t just jumping to conclusions.

However, whenever they tried to bring it up, they were always shut off by Alice, and, as childish as it may sound, it hurt: Lily, Marlene and Alice had known each other for years, they had shared fears, hopes, secrets. They had never broken each other’s trust, and that was one of the fundamentals of their friendship.

So why was Alice so incredibly jealous of the corner Narcissa occupied in her mind? Was she ever going to let them in?

She would, eventually.

Or at least Lily hoped so.

In the mean time, she had a new singer to focus her attention on: an unknown girl named Mary Macdonald, who performed for the first time with the Narcissa Black, as the closing act of a festival that had sold out probably because of Black. The piece they were going to sing was a fan favourite, Born to Die, so the crowd’s expectations were extremely high.

This Mary Macdonald was either exceptionally confident, or completely mental.

But when she started to sing, Lily was immediately captivated. From the way she walked on the stage, to how she swayed to the music, to the bright smile on her lips when she wasn’t singing, it was impossible for Lily to take her eyes off her. For a few minutes, Mary’s voice seemed like the only real thing in the world, making everything else feel mundane, unworthy of attention.

Narcissa let Mary steal the spotlight, looking at her proudly like she was showing the world a ground breaking discovery. And she wasn’t wrong, because the girl sang for barely five minutes, and yet Lily was already starving for more.

How could Mary fear the eyes of a few thousands of people when she sang like the whole world was watching? How could she feel the pressure of being a guest on another star’s show, when she shone just as bright?

Lily didn’t need much more after that.

She opened her chat with Alice and Marlene.

lil evans: i’m going to sing with Mary Macdonald and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

lil evans: and we’re having pizza tonight.

“Making her sing during that show was completely mental, Cissa.” Amelia was leaning against the desk in front of Narcissa, arms crossed.

It had always been hard for Narcissa to find her intimidating, since they were similar in both age and personality, so she was one of the few who weren’t affected by her signature Amelia Bones Glare. In addition to that, her mischievous eyes and Narcissa’s satisfied smile made the whole conversation feel more like two friends chatting casually, rather than a lecture about Narcissa’s…surprise song. Introducing Mary to a crowd like that had been a bold choice, but neither of the singers regretted it.

Narcissa and Mary had been working together everyday for two months now, 6 hours of practice daily. Narcissa was aware this rhythm was probably unbearable for Mary, who had another job, but the girl had been set on working her ass off to start thinking about her own album as soon as possible, and even when she eventually started working on it, she still spent a quarter of her day singing.

They even spent part of their free time together: considering how much Mary seemed to dread staying home and how discreet she was about her private life, Narcissa had the suspicion her family situation wasn’t exactly the best, so she had been inviting her over to her place as often as possible with the weirdest excuses to give her a distraction.

It’s not like Narcissa could have helped it, she knew what a shit family could do to a person, and she genuinely appreciated Mary’s company, too.

So much, in fact, that she had taken her to perform live for the first time as soon as she had the chance.

“You’re right, Mel, it was crazy. It worked, though,” replied Narcissa nonchalantly, bringing a cigarette to her lips. Thank God Amelia was also a smoker and allowed the occasional cig-breaks indoors, as long as Narcissa had to share. “It’s all the media has been talking about for the past two weeks. Besides, we are going to drop her album in, like, less than a month, some extra publicity can’t hurt.”

“It was her first time singing to an audience, and you made her jump on a stage in front of live cameras,” Amelia cocked her head to the side, eyes wide in amazement. “She could’ve fucked it up, and I wouldn’t have blamed her.”

“But she didn’t,” countered Narcissa, resting her head against the armchair. “Because we talked about it beforehand. Listen, that girl was born to perform, her place isn’t inside a small recording room. I wanted the people to see her for the first time at her best.”

Amelia shook her head with something vaguely resembling fondness. “You really do care about her, don’t you? Pass it.” Narcissa inhaled and handed her the cigarette. She exhaled and watched as the smoke floated in the air, light under the sun rays like a bride’s veil.

“Why did you even agree to introduce her to me? I didn’t know you had such a kind heart.” Amelia commented, eyes squinted towards the window. “Not that I’m ungrateful. I have a lot of hope in Mary. However, you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who wanted to be…a mentor, I guess.”

Narcissa was still watching the smoke leave the cigarette, head tilted back.

She still didn’t know why she’d let Mary into her home that night, months before.

She knew, however, that she hadn’t hoped to make it past 27, yet there she was, not too far from her 28th birthday.

Leaving her parents’ house and throwing herself onto new projects hadn’t magically changed Narcissa’s life for the better, and she’d also found herself completely alone. There was also the fact that she ended up high or drunk way too often to not consider it a problem, although in the past she hadn’t worried about it too much: many great stars died like that, and Narcissa wasn’t too bothered by the thought of joining them.

But then Mary showed up, with her determination and stoic audacity, so set on really owning her life, and made Narcissa realise how scary her indifference towards death was.

In truth, that night Amelia had answered her email almost immediately.

“The album is promising, but there’s a lot of work to do, Narcissa.”

“I know, but I swear, she has it. The spark, I-I felt it. I could help-“

“You have to be able to help, Narcissa. You know what I mean, right?”

She didn’t drink for five days, after that call. And on the fifth day, Amelia gave her a chance, and Mary officially became part of her life. Since then, there had been highs and lows: sometimes she went to Edgar (who was much more empathetic than Amelia, though Narcissa would never say that to her face), and he’d go to her house to throw away her remaining alcohol. Other times, when Mary was willing to drink with her, she let herself take a glass or two: Narcissa’s rule of thumb was drinking one glass less than Mary, and considering that the girl was still wary of drinking more than a few glasses or a couple of shots, Narcissa hadn’t gotten tipsy in two whole months.

“Narcissa? Are you there?” Amelia waved her hand in front of her eyes. Narcissa noted that the cigarette had disappeared somewhere.

“Yes, Mel. Was just thinking.”

“About?” Amelia asked, eyebrow raised, but Narcissa didn’t say anything. She didn’t like talking about her struggles, but Amelia Bones always seemed to read her mind, which was equally endearing and annoying. So, at the silence that followed, she said, “You’re doing better, by the way. Have you told-“

“I’m not going to tell her-“

“NAR-CIS-SAAAA” Mary barged into the room, eyes bulging and breathing heavily. Her arms were open wide, phone in hand.

“Ma-ryyyy?” Narcissa replied in confusion while raising her arms, mimicking the girl. Mary rushed to her and shoved the phone in her face with an excited smile.

“Som-someone just contacted me and you won’t believe-oh, Amelia, you need to see this, too!”

“Stay still, child, you’re moving too much.” complained Narcissa, squinting at the bright screen and wrapping a hand around Mary’s wrist to steady it. Amelia quickly moved closer, read the first few words, and immediately frowned. “That’s a name I haven’t seen in a while.”

Dear Miss Mary Macdonald,

This is Lily Evans, if the email address wasn’t a dead giveaway. I just saw a video of your performance with Narcissa Black, and I must say, you’ve instantly enchanted me. I could spend many words praising your incredible singing, but perhaps it would be more efficient to get straight to the point.

You may already know this, but because of certain circumstances last year, I completely disappeared from the public eye. I will soon make a comeback though, and I was wondering if you wanted to write a song with me to put in the album. Or we could write a single, however you prefer: to be completely honest, this is just an excuse to sing with you.

I’ll leave my phone number, in case you wish to reach out to me <3

Have a delightful day,

Miss Lily Evans

“What do I do, what do I do?” Mary asked leaving her phone to Narcissa and Amelia, their eyes still glued to the screen.

“Well, Evans has a big fan base, a collaboration with her would be great.” Amelia said, still analysing the email like it was a cryptic message from an alien.

“Do you also sense a flirty undertone or am I seeing things?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, maybe she’s just very informal and frien-no okay, now that you’ve mentioned it, I can kinda see it.” Narcissa replied just as quietly.

“Shoot your shot Mary!” she said, smiling fondly at the girl, who was covering her face with her hands.

“But first, consider that Evans has been in the middle of some drama lately. Despite her loyal fans, her reputation has gone to shit during the past year. You know that, right?” Amelia asked, standing up next to Narcissa’s chair.

“…Actually, I don’t.” Mary replied.

“How do you-“ Amelia whispered, appalled. “Well, I’ll send you some links so you can get what I mean. I had the chance to speak to her a couple of times, she’s a good person. A bit fierce and isn’t afraid of speaking her mind, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Amelia got closer and put a hand on Mary’s arm.

“I bet she’ll be a pleasure to work with. If you want I can contact her manager.”

Mary chewed on her lip, deep in thought.

“Fuck it, I’m doing it.” she snapped, getting her phone back from Narcissa, who let out a small ‘ooooh’ as encouragement.

“But I’ll text her myself. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“I agree. You should also meet her in person, first,” intervened Narcissa, knowingly. “You don’t want to work with someone you don’t get along with. Two artists need chemistry.”

“Mhm…” Mary agreed, distractedly. “I’ll go, then. I just wanted to tell you first, I was absolutely freaking out-“

“Of course you were, it’s Lily Evans we’re talking about,” said Amelia understandingly, “Everyone knows at least one of her songs.”

“…Yeah,” commented Mary, with an unsure smile. “Yes, of course I do. Well, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The two women watched Mary leave the room, practically bouncing instead of walking.

“So, Mary and Lily…” started Amelia once the room had gone back to quiet, still eyeing the door.

“Apparently.” Narcissa already knew where this was going.

“You know she’s Fortescue’s girl, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“…Interesting.”

“I’m not even looking at you but I can feel your stupid grin. Stop it.”

The phone was ringing when Lily got out of the shower: it was rather late, and she wasn’t really expecting any calls. She didn’t recognise the number on the screen, but it wasn’t the usual Unknown Number that meant Snape was trying to get in contact with her, so she accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, is this Miss Lily Evans?” greeted a voice on the other side, and Lily recognised with a smile the old-fashioned welcome.

“Well yes, could this be my dear Miss Mary Macdonald?” she replied, just as charmingly. So Mary wanted to work with her, despite everything…maybe Marlene was right, things were getting more promising.

“My my, it may just be her,” then she laughed softly, and it was such a pleasant sound Lily wanted to put it in a song, somehow. “Sorry, I broke character. Anyway, am I disturbing you?”

“Not everyone is born an actor, darling, and no, not at all-“ Lily scrunched her curls with a wet towel.

“Good, because I wanted to tell you I would love to write a song with you,“ Lily saw her smile widen as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“-But I’m afraid we’ll have to wait at least three weeks.” Mary concluded, sounding so sorry Lily couldn’t manage to feel too disappointed.

“Oh, it’s fine, I can be patient. How come we have to postpone our meeting? If I can ask, of course.”

“Well, you see, I’m working on-“

“LILY!” Marlene barged into her room screaming, her brown eyes open wide and blonde hair even messier than usual.

One thing about Marlene is that she never banally entered rooms, she always barged in, slamming doors open and announcing the motifs of her intrusion. It was a rather dramatic habit, but it always made Alice smile when Marlene appeared on top of the stairs, shouted “HUNGRY!”, and set the dinner-making process in action. Lily was just grateful someone in the house never forgot about meals.

“Marlene-“

“PETER IS BACK IN TOWN!” she continued, grabbing Lily’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mary, can you hang in there for a minute? I’ll be back shortly.” Lily explained, widening her eyes at Marlene, who quickly covered her mouth with her hands, surprised but not really apologetic.

Mary laughed, “Sure, no problem.”

“I’m sorry…” Marlene smiled as Lily muted herself, although she seemed more enthusiastic than sorry.

Marlene, Peter and James had known each other since they were kids, and being all separated for work matters (Marlene and Peter had always worked solo, while James had formed a duo with Sirius Black when they were sixteen), they were all overexcited when they had an excuse to see each other. The four of them together reminded Lily of those puppies that are perpetually either jumping, running or barking.

“It’s okay. So, Peter is back?” Lily smiled.

When Peter was younger, he used to be really quiet and shy, always getting dragged into trouble by James and Marlene first, and then Sirius, too.

Or at least, that’s what Marlene had told her. Lily found it hard to believe, considering how Peter acted now: he was comfortable on the stage, always ready to joke, in front of thousands of people or with his closest friends alike; he wasn’t necessarily the loudest at a party (that honour went to Sirius and James), but he was still a pleasure to have a conversation (and especially talk shit) with.

“Not yet, actually. He’ll be back this Saturday,” Marlene answered, biting back a smile.

“I bet Effie is hosting a welcome-home party as soon as he gets in town,” Lily continued, remembering how Mrs Potter always found opportunities to gather all her “kids” (as she had nominated James and all his friends) under her roof.

“Oh, it’ll be a big one this time,” Marlene confirmed. “She has already asked me to invite every living being I know. Wait, are you on the phone with Mary Macdonald?”

“Shit, I’m making her wait. Can we talk about this later?” Lily asked, bringing the phone to her chest. Nice first impression, idiot.

“Wait, wait. Invite her, too.” Marlene suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I can’t ask her to come to a party all alone with a bunch of people she doesn’t even know-“

“Then ask her to bring Narcissa, too,” Marlene wiggled her eyebrows more aggressively.

It took Lily an instant. She gaped.

“You sick, sick bastard. Alice will be there. Shit will go down, you know?”

“Why? Alice and Narcissa don’t even know each other,” Marlene batted her eyelashes with an innocent shrug. “Besides, Sirius hasn’t spoken to his cousin in forever, they need to catch up.”

Lily licked her lips thoughtfully and brought her attention back to the phone. A formal party wasn’t the best setting to talk about work, but it was perfect for getting to know someone. And Lily really wanted to get to know Mary. She unmuted herself and brought the phone to her ear.

“Hey, before we continue, are you free this Saturday?”

that was all, hope you liked it and let me know if you want to be tagged when i post updates bc it won’t be that often lmao

#lily in her rep era #there’s another chapter before the party chapter(s) but i’m writing them rn and i’m having a lot of fun ngl #anyways #marauders #marauders era #marylily #mary macdonald #lily evans #narcissa black #alice fortescue #alicissa #nobleflower #marlene mckinnon #i need to find a title asap #so i can make a tag #fic: delicate

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