#how i failed to find more than one ship for fluff

[iwantflyingpigs]

i swear i only have three types of ships-

(screaming in agony continues)

"can you guys just communicate so that i can be in peace?!"

(kicking my feet in the air) "sooo when's the wedding?"

also knows as the holy trinity of angst , hurt/comfort and fluff

[sixosix]

can i go where you go? | kaedehara kazuha

warnings 2.2k words, lots of kissing… like srsly, pure fluff, kazuha is a cutie, not a slick cutie though, friends to lovers!!

or, three times Kazuha keeps kissing you on ‘accident’.

The first time Kazuha kissed you, it was on Beidou’s ship.

You're only partially awake, your eyelids heavy, and you move with a slow, languid pace as Kazuha escorts you towards The Alcor. The wind hums as it caresses the sails, accompanied by the lively shouts and cheers of the crew on board.

“So early,” you mutter, sighing. “Too early. Sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It will be, soon,” Kazuha says, smiling at you in the same way that he always does. Tender, as comforting as the ocean pooling on your feet as you walk by the shore. “You mentioned you wanted to meet the Captain, didn’t you? Tilt your head a little.” Although he says it, his finger comes to your chin and gently directs your gaze himself.

He’s gesturing to the woman standing at the quarterdeck, her hands resting on her hips and her shoulders remarkably broad. She turns as if hearing Kazuha’s soft voice amidst the boisterous chatter. Your jaw goes slack in awe, excitement washing away the last traces of fatigue tugging your bones as everything you’ve heard about Captain Beidou from Kazuha comes rushing back.

Kazuha steadies you with a hand on the small of your back as your knees falter when climbing the ship.

“Captain Beidou!” You bow deeply, lowering your head to your waist, arms outstretched to offer her the sake and the sakura mochi you made the night before—which cost you sleep, but it is worth more than anything when you get to gift the woman who took care of your best friend when you couldn’t. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along. Please take this.”

Kazuha and Beidou glance at each other in surprise.

Kazuha starts, “You didn’t have—”

“No,” you say, firm. “This is the least I can do. Don’t try, Kazuha.”

Kazuha’s expression eases to a smile. “Alright.”

“I like this one, Kazuha,” Beidou says, ruffling your hair, and leaving stray strands on your head. She grins at you, all wide and wild. “Where’s he been hiding ya, huh, kid?”

“Somewhere in Inazuma.”

She laughs; it sounds like the roaring waves of the ocean. “Thank you. I’ll share it with my crew.” She turns, looking at you over her shoulder. You feel the hair on your arms rise to attention. “Let me know if you need anything, but Kazuha probably will see to it faster than any of us could.”

You’re not exactly sure what she means, though you can pick up on the knowing smirk she throws at your best friend.

“Men, to your posts!” she orders. Kazuha takes it as a cue to take your hand and lead you somewhere far more secluded.

No one’s watching; at least, not to your knowledge. The crew knows well enough they have their own business to attend to, and that no one should be interrupting Kaedehara Kazuha when catching up with his best friend since childhood, you.

Kazuha is a wanderer first and foremost. He does not like to be tied down to one place—he’d itch and wander off if you try to keep him at bay. However, there is one exception; one that has him visiting his homeland whenever he can, even when he is dangerously most sought after. When the wind subsides to a gentle whisper in his ears, the waves are gentle when splashing against the ship, and the crew is fast asleep, Kazuha finds himself stealing glances in the general direction of Inazuma. He knows you’re likely sleeping soundly there, expecting him.

This is what gets him to bring home whatever he may find along the way just to give them to you. If anyone asks, Kazuha would reply with a vague: “For someone special to me, in my land of birth.” Anyone would have guessed that, though, given the assortment of flowers Kazuha never fails to bring home.

You find yourself swaying back and forth along with the ship, your mouth running miles per minute as you talk to him on and on about how you’ve never been to Liyue before and your hands are shaking from excitement—or perhaps nerves, and how is Kazuha looking so calm and why is he smiling at you weirdly?

Kazuha has that fond look in the crinkle of his eyes. “Are you certain you’re not feeling sick? Lightheaded?”

Although the heavy rocking of the ship is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you only feel the anticipation. Thrill. You’ve seen glimpses of Liyue from the letters Kazuha sends; you’re positive nothing can compare to the real deal, and that is what has you giddy, kicking your legs against the wood.

The early morning air crept beneath your clothes and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder; Kazuha leans against you, the warmth of his body relaxing you immediately.

The world falls completely silent as you gaze at him.

“Kazuha,” you breathe out, eyes round with wonder, “thank you for taking me with you.” Kazuha goes still as you brush a stray of hair away from your face a little shyly. “It probably doesn’t mean much because you’re always traveling, and it’s probably such a hassle to be my tour guide, but I’m—mmph.”

The rest of your words are swallowed by Kazuha’s lips, and you, undoubtedly silenced by the press of his soft lips against yours. You have your eyes wide open, frozen as you watch the sunrise from the horizon over Kazuha’s shoulder, casting him an unreal golden glow.

Kazuha quickly pulls back and looks as startled as you feel. The kiss was about half a second, and it took nearly a minute for the both of you to process what had just happened.

He frowns, though it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Sorry,” he says slowly, as though he’s just been brought back up from underwater. “That was—”

“It’s fine,” you blurt, hoping the sunrise would disguise your stunned expression. “The ship—uh, it’s swaying pretty hard. You probably lost balance or something.” However, speaking it aloud sounds wrong. Kazuha just doesn’t lose balance: he’s the most seasoned samurai you’ve met in your life.

Then again, that would leave an empty room of explanation, one of which you’d rather not set foot in.

“Yes.” The sunrise has Kazuha looking a little pink. Or should it be orange? “Allow me to fetch us a bottle of water. You might get seasick.”

“Sure,” you murmur, though it’s lost to the howl of the wind as Kazuha swiftly jumps down, his Vision glowing on his back. The sensation in your stomach doesn’t seem like seasickness.

He doesn’t talk about it, so you don’t bring it up.

The second time happens in public.

The moment you set foot in Liyue Harbor, Kazuha realizes he must reach for your wrist to prevent you from straying and getting lost. You dart from one corner to the next, exploring every stall, even stray dogs and running children.

“Liyue feels so…warm.”

It could be the orange glow of their lights, painting over the region with an unbeatable shade and atmosphere, perfectly replicating what it would be like sitting across a fireplace. Or it could be Kazuha’s hand intertwined with yours.

“Hearing that relieves me,” Kazuha admits, pulling you to the side as two men pushing crates on wheels rush past. “You are often unpredictable in what you like and dislike.”

You laugh, “Were you worried that you overhyped it? You tend to be descriptive with what you write back to me—what was it? The flavorful aroma coming from street vendors, the squeals of youth whistling past, the seagulls, and the waves of the ocean audible even amidst the bustling crowds… I can see it.”

“You remember all of that?” Kazuha looks adorable when bashful.

The sun is already at its highest peak. Sweat has started to form around your hairline; Kazuha had to buy you popsicles, which you got from the Wanmin Restaurant. The popsicle is entirely blue, nearly translucent, and tastes like eating just ice, but it effectively cools you down. Kazuha doesn’t appear bothered by the heat in the slightest, going as far as to insist on carrying all the souvenirs you’ve been purchasing.

He has only one arm full, though. The other is free and linked with yours.

“You didn’t tell me one important thing, though,” you say.

Kazuha blinks once, then furrows his brows. “What is it?” He looks sincerely worried.

“You didn’t tell me you’re famous,” you tease, nudging a red-faced Kazuha with your elbow. “Oh, it’s Kaedehara, you’re back! And here I thought you were like a celebrity in Inazuma. You might just be well-loved everywhere.” Well, who could blame them? You’re no better than the people of Teyvat.

He shakes his head. “Far from it,” he insists, ever the modest guy. “I just happen to be caught up with The Crux.”

“Those ladies seem to disagree. They were trying to impress you, you know.”

Kazuha shifts uncomfortably, his face a funny shade of pink. “I did not pay close enough attention. I apologize.”

A laugh escapes you, in disbelief. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“I did not realize you were the jealous type.”

You gawk at his words, spinning around to see that a hint of something smug playing on his lips. “That’s not—You… shut up. I’m not.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something stupid to fluster you probably, but you’re quicker. You retrieve a container wrapped in plastic, its surface moist from the steam within. Kazuha falls silent, his watchful gaze fixed on you as you unwrap it, his nose undoubtedly detecting a familiar and enticing aroma.

“This is…” Kazuha picks one stick up and observes it. “Mondstadt Grilled Fish.”

“Yes,” you say, grinning proudly. “One of your favorites. You sent me the recipe last year, remember? Kept practicing it for this moment.”

But Kazuha’s heavy gaze is not on the food, but on you, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes. The tension disappears when he smiles and takes a bite. You watch him enjoy his food in peace, belatedly deciding to do the same. You know you did good but Kazuha didn’t have to look like he’s in bliss, eyes closed and everything.

“Thank you,” he says. “You keep surprising me. This was meant to be a day for you.”

“You here with me is enough to make all my days,” you say, mouth full of fish grilled to perfection. Embarrassingly enough, there are crumbs that spew out. You take another big bite, crumbs of it sticking to the sides of your mouth.

You must look a little stupid, tucked in some corner of Liyue, standing next to Kazuha and eating grilled fish silently.

Your field of vision is abruptly engulfed by Kazuha's face. You have barely time to react, your body falling still as your attention is swallowed by the red of his eyes, which are focused on your mouth. You feel warmth press against the side of your mouth, your heart leaping to your throat at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking at all sorry. “You had crumbs on your face.” Which does not explain why he has to kiss it off, but it was at this moment that you understand. Kazuha doesn’t lose balance and doesn’t do anything by mistake.

The dam crumbles.

The third happens when the night is creeping in on your first day, in some inn you didn’t bother looking at, too caught up in the way Kazuha is grinning at you in his own Kazuha-way: all soft and sweet.

“I can’t… believe—how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “It wasn’t a grand revelation that happened one night. It just felt as if it was the only explanation.” His eyes flicker to you, keeping your faces close enough to where your noses are touching. He’s waiting for an answer.

“I had a crush on you the moment we met,” you confess, face hot. “And then it never went away, even when you had to leave. Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

Kazuha’s smile tips on something a little more sly. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, then.”

Years and years of longing for Kazuha, rereading each and every one of his letters, and cherishing every second of when he comes to visit—all of it’s more than worth it if it led you here, in a secluded room, sharing hushed whispers with the boy you’ve wanted all your life.

“So… what are we—”

You’re rudely interrupted by Kazuha pecking your lips.

You frown. “Hey, wait, I’m—mmph—trying to—Kazuha!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he tugs you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, but he’s leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin as you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whisper in the quiet of the night, in the steady silence occasionally broken by the beating of your hearts. “It was an accident.”

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “An accident.”

You stare at each other for a pregnant pause.

“This one isn’t, though,” Kazuha says and dives in for a kiss that leaves you breathless, years and years of buried feelings pouring over.

this was supposed to be for kazuha’s bday but i couldn't finish it in time :(!!! belated happy birthday to the greenest flag ever <3

[daegall]

☆ drunk confessions.

➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.

pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)

warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)

word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)

a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)

This is sick. This is just so sick.

Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?

And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?

Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.

The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.

First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.

Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.

He had hurt you in some way.

But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—

No.

There's no way.

Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?

Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.

What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.

"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"

Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.

But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.

Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."

"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.

3 months marks your feelings for him as well.

"Why don't you ask him?"

At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"

"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"

It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!

You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.

Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.

Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.

But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.

Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.

It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.

"Zoro!"

Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?

Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.

He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"

As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.

Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.

Maybe he really did hate you now.

"Do you mind if we could talk?"

God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.

"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.

You step closer to Zoro.

"Did... did I do something wrong?"

This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.

Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?

"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"

"—your face."

What?

Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?

"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"

To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.

However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?

Your heart twists in pain.

"No! No, that's not what I meant,"

Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.

"I-I just meant that... you..."

He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!

"you look really pretty today,"

Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.

A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.

Zoro thinks you're pretty.

Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.

"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.

Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."

And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.

To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.

Zoro feels like an idiot.

You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.

You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.

The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.

What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.

Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.

3, to be precise.

Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?

How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.

Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.

The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.

"That's my booze,"

Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.

"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"

He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"

Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.

"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.

Life of a swordsman, you suppose.

When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.

Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"

"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.

His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"

"You,"

Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.

"Yeah? What about me?"

You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"

At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"

You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"

You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.

"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"

It's true, you do.

Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.

"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."

God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.

"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."

What?

How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.

Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.

"Did I mention I love your smile?"

Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.

"Yes, you have, Y/N."

"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.

"And your lips. They're pretty too,"

Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.

"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"

Oh, you're cute.

With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.

Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.

"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."

For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.

He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.

You could just be drunk right now.

None of this could be true.

Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.

Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.

Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.

It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.

"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"

"But you're not—"

"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"

Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.

But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.

And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.

That's on you, you suppose.

He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.

You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.

Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.

And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.

You don't remember that much from last night.

All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.

Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.

And finally, some alone time.

You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.

"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.

Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"

Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.

He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.

Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.

"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.

This scene seems familiar.

You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.

"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.

Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."

"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"

Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.

God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.

"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.

"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."

"Did I mention that I love you?"

Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.

It's love.

"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"

[froggywritesstuff]

fizzarolli & asmodeus dating hc's

ship/pairing: Fizzarolli x Asmodeus x male!bodyguard!reader (though there's not much talk of the reader's gender)

request: anon: Would it be okay to have an asmodeus x fizzarolli x Male bodyguard reader, I just want some fluff Headcanons like how the relationship would be like.

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of feeling insecure, swearing, maybe ooc, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting! i originally only started writing this for fizzarolli because i didn't know enough about asmodeus, but after watching the new episode i decided to edit it for asmodeus as well. hope you enjoy!

they constantly flirt with you 

what’s the point of having a cute bodyguard with you if you’re not gonna try flirt with them occasionally 

if occasionally meant almost every five seconds of every day

they fucking love how flustered you look after they compliment you or makes a flirty remark 

they both especially love how you try (and fail) to stay professional 

fizzarolli's flirting is definitely more crude, while asmodeos is still lewd, but more sensual

overtime their flirting gets more personal

fizzarolli isn't used to someone caring about his safety and well-being like you do, so he truly starts to appreciate your company very soon, and he makes sure to let you know it 

if you tell them you enjoy their company and being around them, they get a thousand times more flirty and clingy with you

even though your job is to literally bodyguard him, asmodeus gets really protective over you

checks if you and fizz are ok like a thousand times after coming home from a day out

he knows you can protect yourself, but if he hears someone talking shit about you behind your back or to your face, he's gonna fuck them up.

now obviously they both adore seeing you flustered around them

but when you spring into action and fight off some random imp that was harassing one of them

different reactions from each, but generally speaking, they're down bAD 

even more than they usually are

as well as it being a huge turn on for fizz, he feels his heart just explode

he doesn’t often see you so strong and protective of him, so when he does it’s like he’s in a trance and can never look away

if you use that opportunity to flirt with him, he's gonna be putty in your hands

being his bodyguard, you don't flirt with him that often so when you do he goes bright red, and turns to a flustered, stuttering mess

asmodeus mainly finds it hot

after confirming that you're not hurt and you're safe, he'll definitely flirt with you 

gets super physical as well, even if you're in public and lots of people can see you 

though he tries to hide it, fizzarolli gets really insecure about your relationship, and thinks you're just faking your feelings since you were hired to be his and asmodeus's bodyguard

it takes a long time for him to actually be vulnerable with you and talk about his feelings

it's a big moment for him so do not try to downplay his feelings or dismiss him

if you ever need to talk about your feelings, or literally anything, asmodeus is definitely the best demon for that

you can rant for hours and he'll stay beside you, nodding and intently listening, chiming in when necessary 

fizzarolli definitely isn't the best listener in hell, but he really makes an effort for you

puts in 110% effort to listen to you and make sure you feel listened to

a lot of the time if you're ranting about something he definitely joins in, and you two have hour long conversations

they're both super supportive of you in whatever you do

and if you're ever feeling insecure about yourself, they're so quick to shut it down and shower you with compliments

[tragedybunny]

A Little More Than a Nibble - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion wakes you up at camp looking for a late night snack. You both end up with something a little more. (Fluff, Angst)

Yes I'm on the Astarion train. How can you not love him?

This short is set before Astarion's act 2 confession

Something called to you from the dark, stirring you out of sleep. Fragments of the waking world brushed against your consciousness; a dying fire, a far off owl calling, a presence hovering over you. The cold influx of terror lasts only a moment as you realize the presence is not only familiar but expected at this point. “Are you awake darling?” Astarion’s voice exudes the beguiling charm that’s become so familiar to you, familiar enough you’ve started to catch the hint of artifice that lays behind it.

Sleep-heavy eyes drift open to find him kneeling down next to you, red eyes fixed on you. The deep slumber is hard to shake off and your answer is no more than a drowsy whisper. “I am now.”

“Oh apologies my sweet but I was just wondering if…” He lets the words hang for a moment, waiting for your mind to catch up, to finish the implication. Really though it could only be about one of two things since you’re the one in camp that’s been both fucking and feeding him. And with the ungodly hour, you can easily conclude which it is.

“No luck hunting?” He deserves at least a little teasing for waking you like this.

“Actually I was thinking about you and couldn’t get the taste of you off my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I had just a little taste, just a slight nibble?” Perhaps you’ve been too indulgent with him and he’s grown used to getting his way with you, a habit you really should put to an end. If only the mere suggestion of those teeth at your neck didn’t make you quiver with excitement.

Still, it won’t do to placidly let him have his way every time. “You say slight nibble, and I wake up woozy the next morning. I fail to see what I get out of this little arrangement.”

For a moment, you think you see the slightest hint of hurt at your refusal, before he swiftly resumes his flirtatious persona. “Why, you get my gratitude and affection. Both of which are undying, I might remind you.”

It’s not the honeyed words that convince you, it’s the ghost of an emotion, the possibility of vulnerability, that there’s something beneath the mask he shows everyone, even you. Not that you would really refuse, you’re too far gone for that. Life as the daughter of a noble house of Baldur’s Gate primed you for this, to fall for a man so wrong, and dangerous, and not at all anything you should want. Rebellion after years of complicity, years of forced perfection and crafted smiles, of doing everything expected of you. The Illithid ship had given you a terrible burden, but it had also been more freedom than you’d ever known in your life. Freedom that didn’t necessarily come with inbuilt wisdom. Silently, you throw back the covers, beckoning him into the bed roll beside you. With a satisfied smile, he gracefully slides in, body pressed against yours.

The first time you’d let him do this it had been awkward, sloppy almost, a fact explained by the later revelation you were his first. Now familiarity has led to comfort, intimacy of its own sort. Different than just sex, but no less thrilling. An arm around your waist, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips brushing up against it in a gentle kiss first that makes you shiver before the bite.

The sharp ice of those teeth piece your skin and drive into the blood flowing in your veins. Then you feel it, the echo of your blood flowing into his veins. It had frightened you the first time but now it sends a wave of bliss through you. An involuntary sigh escapes you and you know if his mouth wasn’t full, he’d be tormenting you for how much you enjoy it. Arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him tighter against you, as though you are begging for more. You are though aren’t you? You can’t get enough of this, of him.

Drifting away, you lose yourself in him, a sweet surrender to an inexorable pull. As promised though, he’s only taken a taste when he lets up, pulling away, and licking any drops from your skin. The control he’s starting to show is impressive, even if it leaves you yearning for the strange connection of his feeding. Knowing that he never lingers after any encounter between the two of you, you unwrap your arms which feel so much heavier now, letting him go. Unexpectedly, he remains, head now resting on your chest, forehead pressed to your cheek. “Not going to eat and run?”

“In such a hurry to be rid of me?” He murmurs, his face hidden so you don’t even have a chance of reading his expression.

You’re not naive, despite what the others might believe. There’s nothing more you expect beyond what already passes between the two of you. Even if you believe you could care for him, he’s not open to you that way. Still, even if the tone is nonchalant, you feel there’s a loneliness behind it he's not quite hiding all the way. “I didn’t say that.” He doesn’t ask directly to stay and you know he won’t, so you pull the covers over the two of you and put your arms back around him and without saying another word.

With a subtle shift, you feel him get near your throat once again before stopping himself. “Perhaps I should go.”

“You don’t have to, I trust you.” Tentatively, you reach a hand up and softly stroke it through his silver hair. First he tenses, and you wait for a reproach for being too tender with him, but none comes. A moment later and you feel the tension release and he relaxes again. Your eyes are heavy, your body desperately craving sleep, but you're afraid there will never be another moment like this, with him so close, and not pushing you away. So you fight to stay conscious, and keep your fingers moving gently as long as he allows it. Sleep comes to claim you again though, and just as the world fades around you, lips brush your collarbone and the arm around your waist holds a little tighter.

The dawn comes, and the camp stirs. When you find the empty space in your bed roll, you tell yourself your heart doesn’t break a little and get ready to get on with your day.

[hells-wasabii]

Hi 👋

Could I trouble you for a Zestial x wife reader drabble please?

And maybe a seperate Carmilla x reader drabble too because I ship them and just can't choose between)

A/N: Have I mentioned I'm a sucker for domestic fluff? So I've actually decided that from this point on, if I'm requested more than one drabble per ask, I'll make seperate posts, but still include the ask via screenshotfor easier navigation.

Character: Zestial

Type: Drabble (Zestial x wife!reader, Drabble, Fluff)

It was amazing. Truly, it was.

Despite how 'modern' hell had become, the feel of the city somehow managed to remain the same. You imagined that it would so long as you remained by Zestial's side. It quite honestly reminded you of when the two of you had been alive. You could remember it so very vividly. Even then, your dear husband had been a lord residing over territories. It was similar to how things worked now, something that you had noted many times before. Though now, instead of able-bodied men and resources, power stemmed from souls.

While he had been a lord, you had been his lady, his darling wife who was unafraid to bare her fangs at the other nobles to put them in their place while he dealt with the more bloody matters. Your marriage, though initially arranged, was loving, fulfilling. It had been for several centuries. He was your everything and you were his. You had even been childhood sweethearts, falling in love effortlessly despite your marriage having already been arranged since birth. You very well could have been soulmates.

So it was only natural that you would die together, rising again to create a new empire to rule together.

Several centuries had passed. Overlords had risen and fallen like the tide, however, you and your dear husband remained steadfast.

"Dearest, is all well?" Ah, speak of the devil. Turning your head, you find your darling lord standing at the door. It never failed to surprise you how your husband could move with such grace as to walk nary without a sound. "Thou hast yet to come for dinner."

Even in small moments such as these, your dear Zestial remained attentive.

"Just reminiscing, dear. We have built much together." You pointed out, hoping to ease his mind as you turned back to look at your shared territories. He nodded, moving from the doorway to join you as you softly conversed.

"That we have, my dear wife, and so we shall continue to do."

"I greatly look forward to spending the rest of eternity with you, dearest. Our love is not one to be sullied by the sands of time. We have grown stronger, together." His expression turned content as his hand found the small of your back. A small but welcome gesture as he gently guided you closer to him. Truly, it didn't matter where you went or what you did. You were more than content so long as Zestial was there with you.

"May we remain here, just a little longer?" You asked, though truly, you already knew the answer.

"As you wish, my wife."

[twig-tea]

Why We Are Gives Me Anxiety

I have been fighting myself on this We Are post for weeks because I wanted to make sure I knew what I wanted to say and was able to say it. I feel the need to say off the top that I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people. The show in and of itself, as 16 hour-long episodes of fluff (shout-out to @stuffnonsenseandotherthings for using this word to pinpoint the genre for this show, because it’s perfect), is not offensive or bad or wrong or any judgmental or moralistic word. And it does some things well; the centrality of the friend group was a lovely aspect to this show, and the chemistry in the friendship group scenes was on point. All of the couples have good romantic chemistry as well, and the show is packed with butterflies-inducing moments. 

That being said, I did not enjoy watching this show. I watch television mostly for the story; This show felt more like watching 16 special episodes for a show I hadn’t seen (I think this can be attributed to the point made by @italianpersonwithashippersheart in her post here that the show assumes the audience comes to the show with a pre-existing buy-in to the ships). The lack of overarching narrative structure of We Are gave my brain nothing to hold onto and I spent so much of every episode futilely trying to figure out how scenes worked with what had come before, what the show was trying to say, what these characters were thinking–all of which I knew was the wrong way to be watching, but it’s the way my brain works, so I spent a lot of the show frustrated. In short, this show wasn’t for me. 

But that’s not why I feel the need to write about it. Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content. And lord knows there’s enough BL to go around these days (shouting out @respectthepetty’s post along these lines, which I loved) . But We Are still worries me, and I’ve been trying to find a way to articulate that my concerns are not actually about the show itself, in isolation, but rather about how it feels like part of a pattern. This is my best attempt at laying that out. It’s going to get a little ramble-y, so apologies in advance.

Shout-out to @bengiyo who first articulated this anxiety in his post from relatively early in the show’s run . Ben gets into some of where I’m coming from with concerns about what this show means for the genre in this post, which as he mentions we've chatted about in DMs. I’m really grateful to him for these conversations because in isolation, I worried that I was being alarmist. It was helpful to have confirmation that he was feeling the same way so that I could get out of my own head.  

Ben mentions in his post that New Siwaj has been in this business a long time, and I, like Ben, have jived with him for years because he manages to imbue queer angst into his shows in a way that resonates with me, even when he’s had missteps. I'm going to lay out some of the major highlights of his work for those who haven't followed New for years.

He was an editor on Love Sick, arguably the start of the Thai BL genre as we know it today, and a show full to the brim of queer angst. He directed Make It Right, one of my favourite Thai BL comedy series. This show was also an ensemble centered around a friendship group (though admittedly it didn’t balance the friendship and romance content as strongly as We Are), and it covers so many topics that felt refreshing at the time and still are rare (morning-after sex visits to the clinic because things went poorly, hooking up on the apps, sex acts beyond just penetration, suicidality, I could go on). He also was involved in the GMMTV Waterboyy series–this was his first work for GMMTV that I am aware of. That show had a lot of issues but did explore internalized homophobia and bullying.

He worked as a cinematographer on En of Love, which is again similar to We Are in that it has several couples connected by a friendship group (and is several novels in one series), but each couple was given its own miniseries instead of bundling them into one show. En of Love also still dealt with some serious queer angst, especially in the Love Mechanics story [Sidenote, Niink, the director for En of Love, stuck with New and moved on to work for Wabi Sabi].

At this point, New created his own company, Studio Wabi Sabi, which he's said in interviews was to gain more creative control over what he was working on. And his stories became arguably even more explicitly queer and inclusive of queer trauma. He screenwrote and produced Love By Chance (which folks may not remember or know, but that core story starts off with Pete being blackmailed for being gay until Ae convinces him to come out to his mother and shut down the leverage for blackmail, and a good chunk of Pete’s character arc is unlearning internalized homophobia and not seeing himself as ‘corrupting’ Ae) and then Until We Meet Again. The queer angst in UWMA probably doesn’t need my help spelling out, but just in case anyone doesn’t know the summary, this show was about a queer couple who committed suicide in the face of homophobia in the 1980s, and were reborn and given another chance to be together in present day. I did want to note that in both of these series (LBC and UWMA) the core romance itself has no major conflicts; both AePete and DeanPharm felt like they were intentionally side-stepping so many of the usual BL drama tropes of jealousy and misunderstandings through trust and communication. Dean and Pharm’s story took that even further by having so many of the usual drama pitfalls for a gay couple just not be a problem; their only drama comes from their past lives, in a beautiful exploration of the breaking of intergenerational trauma. So many external threats to their relationship ended up being non-starters, and this was my version of a comfort series for that reason. 

From there, New started working with GMMTV again, and directed My Gear and Your Gown. This series was, to my knowledge, the first GMMTV BL series to mention HIV and to show characters getting tested at the clinic, and while it wasn’t perfect representation (didn’t get into PrEP, treated HIV as a death sentence), it felt like an important milestone.

[I’m skipping the sequels and specials he did for series I already talked about, because they don’t feel that important to the story I’m telling here and this is already so long, but I wanted to acknowledge that I’m not covering everything in his oeuvre.]

He then directed 7 Project, which had some serious storylines dealing with bullying and struggling with life in the closet, out of Wabi Sabi, and then Star and Sky out of GMMTV. Star in My Mind included one of the main characters in a beard relationship for years, and some controversy over the adaptation choices to make Daonuea (Dunk’s character) less polite than in the books. There was drama around the pronouns and characterization in that show (both Daonuea and Khabkluen use guu/mueng in the series, but in the novel, Daonuea uses rao; he also curses in the series and novel fans complained that he was too ‘masculine’). I thought it was an interesting attempt at a departure from BL character tropes to try to make Daonuea more evenly matched with Khabkluen in terms of his gender presentation in the show. Sky in Your Heart also included some angst about whether people of a particular station could be gay. Both of these shows (SIMM and SIYH) were also very trope-y, but they had clear throughlines. 

My Only 12%, the next show New directed out of Wabi Sabi, contains one of my favourite moments in all of BL, in which Seeiw sees Love of Siam and cries because it makes him realize he’s gay. There’s this heartfelt moment where he asks his sister, if there’s nothing wrong with being gay, why doesn’t the film let the gay characters have a happy ending? Despite the weird PSA ending, this show remains one of my favourites.

This is an aside but I’ve long been fascinated about this moment in New’s history: he played himself in War of Y, as a director of BL who is sick of being forced to make BL shows full of fanservice; he treats the actors with disdain and cuts marketable high heat scenes from the show which makes everyone nervous for the show’s future. Later we see him and the actor characters on set for My Only 12%, much happier. I ask myself about this moment at least once a week: Did he write this self-insert? Did someone else write the character and he just played it, and the similarities to his style were (were not?) a coincidence? I hope someone knows and tells me one day,

From there, New functioned as an Executive Producer of Dear Doctor, I’m Coming for Soul [I think this was the first outsourced project by Wabi Sabi]. This series’ entire plot is a metaphor for living in the closet and waiting for the time when the main couple can be together fully without having to hide. 

He directed A Boss and a Babe for GMMTV (which had its problems for sure, but also had Cher as an out gay man at the workplace dealing with casual homophobia in a way that was extremely satisfying), and then Between Us, which is maybe the least queer feeling show Wabi Sabi produced on its own, but did go into the issues of dating and the closet while trying to become a star (if I’ve forgotten something from this show let me know, I only watched it the once). One of the things that was so strange about this show was it being a sequel to UWMA but not engaging with the same themes. The only mention of real world queerness I can remember was the acknowledgment that they can’t get married in Thailand and Dean and Pharm discussing again going abroad and getting married there. 

Absolute Zero was a complete mess of a show; New directed this one for Wabi Sabi, and it has some similarities to UWMA in the sense of there being an attempt at saving the gays from the bury your gays trope, this time via time loop rather than reincarnation, but it did not take the issues it raised seriously enough (including the age gap created between the two characters by virtue of time travel). 

And that leads us to We Are for GMMTV, which as Pluem (@happypotato48)  wrote in his excellent post about this, includes Toey using nu and other 'feminine' or 'youthful' sounding language, but also apparently dropped the main conflict of the novel between Phum and his father (because his father disapproved of Peem).

Why did I go through all of that? Because I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.

And this is a pattern we’re seeing more widely at GMMTV in particular, but also in Thai QL more widely. This is something that was touched on but not really discussed in the most recent episode of The Conversation podcast (the 23.5 and only boo! episode here). In both 23.5 and Only Boo!, the show faked out a homophobic parent and then treated their kids like they were silly to assume the worst, and I hated that.

Both Ongsa and Kang had internalized homophobia in their respective series. Both were terrified of telling their mothers about their homosexual love interest. And in both cases, their mothers told them something along the lines of 'of course I will support you no matter what'. In Ongsa's case, even though she was outed by Sun without her consent, she's the one who ends up apologizing for her hesitancy and feeling foolish for her concern. In Kang's case, the show never challenges his mother's assertion that she'll always support him even though we know she hasn’t (she was the one who wanted to prevent him from studying art before his father died), and it’s the audience that was left feeling foolish for our concern. 

In the GMMTV round table for Pride Month, it was mentioned that the decision for Ongsa's mother to be accepting of her relationship with Sun was made in order to model good parental behaviour for the older generation in the audience. In the novel, Ongsa's mother presents a significant conflict, but this conflict was erased from the show. I don't know if the same decision was made in Only Boo! for the same reason or not, but either way, the show definitely signalled to Kang's mother having an issue with Kang's relationship with Moo, and then said "sike", which I did not enjoy. The Conversation panelists were correct in the conversation linked and transcribed above that this wasn't the most egregious misstep either show made, but it feels like a telling symptom of the larger overall narrative problems that New is also now succumbing to.

It seems as though telling stories stripped of queer conflict is being seen as progressive, and possibly also easier to sell, and this is where my anxiety lies around what this will mean for Thai QL content in future. 

For the record, I am all for creating queer content in which we envision a better world for ourselves. But when that is the goal, understanding where internalized homophobia comes from and thinking through how removing parental objection will affect the character and the story is vital to the story and characterization remaining coherent. Otherwise it just ends up feeling like the show is telling queer kids that they're paranoid, rather than rightly worried (like I wrote about in this thread on My Love Mix-Up Thailand, where the same decision was made again to fake out a homophobic subplot that was removed from the adaptation but was present in the source material).

These choices speak to adaptation choices with an eye for specific moments and story points, rather than to a narrative or character arc, which is where it feels like they fall into the wider pattern of what @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup and @ginnymoonbeam were describing in their discussion: shows caring more about hitting specific meme-able story points listed out on a whiteboard than about making cohesive sense or having something coherent to say. 

[So as not to leave it out: I don’t think there were concerns of homophobia in the Wandee Goodday novel (novel readers feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about this) but the show faked us out about homophobia concerns anyway, which again really bothered me during that watch and which adds to the pattern.] 

Now, of course, as I stated up at the top there is value in the creation of different kinds of media. These shows sell different fantasies than the ones I want to see, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have value.All of BL has some amount of fantasy that it’s buying into, that’s what comes with the territory of ‘fiction’. The BL bubble (in which homophobia doesn’t exist and all men are gay for each other) is a version that is at its most extreme; nothing bad ever happens that isn’t quickly resolved within an episode, so there is never narrative tension, and nobody really needs to be that concerned about how anything will go ever. I do not find these relaxing because I can’t buy into the fantasy they’re selling; for me, the lack of narrative tension is so unbelievable as to ruin my immersion. But I can see why that would be appealing for someone whose brain is not always on alert and running at 11/10! The problem I am anticipating is when the majority of content is made that way, and when it is done in a way that takes up all of the mainstream space. I think it’s notable that the only show that’s really felt not in the queer bubble from GMMTV in 2024 is Cooking Crush, which was done by a subsidiary team within GMMTV (and the same team went on to make Only Boo!). And this is why We Are caught my attention and made me nervous; When a director who is known for his representation of poignant queer angst makes an entire 16-hour series in which there are no significant conflicts at all and the only hint of homophobia is in Toey’s reference to being bullied prior to the timeframe of the series, I get worried about who is going to be making the queer angst shows in future!  

For the record, my personal preference for comfort shows are the shows that do not pretend the world is perfect, but do depict an idealized subset of that world→where there’s a group of people that support one another through the bullshit of others and the less than perfect world that surrounds them. Shows that teach us to be kind to one another, and ourselves. Shows that say the world is going to suck sometimes, but we can be good to one another, and not lose sight of who we are, and make space for others to be themselves. A few of my favourite Thai series that do this would be: 

Bad Buddy

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Knock Knock Boys

Miracle of Teddy Bear

My Only 12%

Secret Crush on You

To Sir With Love

Until We Meet Again

(and of course these occur in non-Thai shows as well. A few examples of my favourites: What Did You Eat Yesterday, DNA Says Love You, Light on Me, Oppan, Marahuyo Project, TsukuTabe, Tadaima Okaeri, Koisenu Futari, Joshi-teki Seikatsu, Gameboys, Hehe and He, Twilight out of Focus, She Makes My Heart Flutter)

These are shows in which there are explicitly external judgments on the relationships in the show and/or the characters for things intrinsic to who they are, and the characters build a support structure in which folks are encouraged to be themselves within that ‘bubble’ (Bad Buddy walks a fine line because it’s within the BL bubble but the problems that the main couple face are so a direct allegory that everything feels familiar; this is also the case with Tadaima Okaeri, which is both omegaverse and one of the most beautifully kind shows of all time). 

So for now, I still have the other smaller Thai studios including Kongthup Productions (who made Knock Knock Boys; we’ll see whether their latest series Monster Next Door deals with any queer angst or not), idolFactory (just finished My Marvellous Dream is You, which had a ton of queer angst, and is currently doing The Loyal Pin, which I have hope for on this front), DeeHup (currently making I Saw You In My Dream, which I’m holding out hope for) and StarHunter Entertainment (who made City of Stars, but whose record is a little spotty on this front; Their latest, Sunset Vibes, has not done a great job of handling the theme of office relationships and blackmail so far, and feels very much in the bubble) to look forward to. 

But as you can see even just by virtue of the caveats I included above, it feels like this shift is happening in the smaller companies too (harder to see a real pattern with fewer data points, which is one of the reasons why I picked on GMMTV–in addition to it being the largest media conglomerate in Thailand and therefore able to take it). Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just an anxious person. Or maybe I’m just wrong about what would be best for the genre and for queer people in Thailand as well as viewers all over the world. But I, for one, would find it a loss if Thai QL decides en masse to pivot away from queer angst, and right now it kind of feels like that’s what it’s doing. In this context, to reiterate my original point, the existence of We Are is not a problem, but is one in a set of exemplars that raised specific alarm bells due to the people involved and their history in QL and queer representation, its deviation from the source material, and the surrounding shows that seem to indicate a pattern rather than a one-off. 

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Rain-Soaked Kisses

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!Mayfield!reader

Summary: Steve hates storms but loves the rain—just another oxymoron of his life, like the secret the kids are trying so very hard to dig up.

Word Count: 6,582 words

Warnings: fluff!!!, sappy & romantic Steve, scheming Dustin & Max, healthy Mayfield sibling relationship, Billy mention, lumax sprinkles, secret relationship, friends to lovers, byler sprinkles, jancy sprinkles

Note: Told in part from the perspective of the kids! Written because it's storming where I am, and I love this weather so much.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

"Who could he possibly be dating? There's not a girl in Hawkins that wants to go out with him!"

"Well, clearly one of them does!"

Dustin sighed, taking in Max's exclamation. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Steve had stopped complaining about bad dates and girls who left quickly; Robin reported he'd completely stopped talking about Leah and Heidi and Helen and the five other girls he'd been on-and-off again with; he walked around with a dopey, happy smile on his face all the time; and he was less and less reliable for rides, instead going on dates with a girl who's name he always pretended to forget.

As impossible as the idea seemed, Dustin had to admit it was a logical conclusion.

But who?

"Robin?" Max suggested.

Dustin shook his head. "Impossible. Steve steadfastedly refuses to date her. It's not Nancy again, is it?"

"Nope—saw her with Jonathan yesterday." Max huffed a sigh. "Maybe we have to...think outside the box more?"

"Who's outside the box? Who hasn't he already tried to date and failed miserably at dating?" Dustin demanded.

Max was silent for a moment too long. Then she said, "Alright, I don't know. I can't think of anyone who would actually go out with him."

"Exactly, neither can I," Dustin said. "We've got to watch him. We need to know who this is."

~❊~

But tracking Steve and his mystery girl down was much, much harder than either Dustin or Max had anticipated.

Without Steve driving them around, getting around town took twice as long as it needed, either in the attempts to find someone to drive them or in walking themselves everywhere. Nancy was either busy or with Jonathan most of the time, which ruled out Jonathan as well, and Robin still didn't have her license.

During yet another slow afternoon of trying and failing to put together the pieces of where Steve was going and with who, the phone rang. Dustin and Max both looked up quickly, scrambling over furniture and Dustin's new cat to beat each other to the phone.

Dustin got to it first. "Hello?"

"Hey, Dustin? It's Robin."

"Yeah, I know it's you, Robin, I can recognize your voice."

"Now's your chance."

"What?"

"Steve just left work—he said he's going on a date. Now's your chance to go find out who he's going out with!"

"Oh, shit!" Dustin turned to Max. "Steve's going on a—"

"I heard," she said. "Does she know where he's going?"

"Where's he going, Robin, did he say?"

"A restaurant, and he changed into a really nice outfit before he left here. And by nice, I mean really nice. Like fanciest restaurant in town kind of nice. Whoever this girl is, he really wants to impress her. And he's obsessed with her, too, he's been smiling all day from excitement."

Dustin scoffed. "And you didn't call us before he left?! Now we have to find out where he's going and how to get there!"

"Well, it's not like I could call you talk about him in front of him! Besides, we do know where he's going. What's the fanciest restaurant in town?"

"Enzo's," Dustin realized. "That's where he's taking her."

"I can guarantee it. If you go to Enzo's, he's going to be there. I'd go myself, but Steve and I'll both get fired if at least one of us isn't at the store right now."

"Thanks, Robin!"

"Good luck, guys!"

Dustin turned around to give Max the details, but she cut him off. "I heard. Enzo's."

"All we have to do is catch them in the middle of their date, and we know exactly who Steve's dating," Dustin said with a grin. "Easy!"

"Yeah, easy," Max snarked. "How are we supposed to get there?"

Dustin paused before he sighed. "Start calling everyone we know with a car, I guess."

Max rolled her eyes. "Like that'll ever work. Nobody's been willing to drive us around so far!"

"Can't hurt to try," Dustin insisted.

"No, Dustin, we'll be wasting time! We should just start walking now!"

But Dustin was already dialing the number to the Wheelers' house. It was answered by Mrs. Wheeler.

"Hello, Karen Wheeler speaking!"

"Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, could I talk to—"

"MIKE!" Dustin flinched at the volume from the other end. Max cringed, hearing the shout from where she stood. "Dustin's on the phone!"

A few seconds later, Dustin heard Mike's voice. "Yeah?"

"Is Nancy there?"

Dustin could see Mike's frown. "What do you want Nancy for?"

"Mike, I don't have time for this—"

"What. For? If this is Keith trying to get a date with her again, I swear that I'll—"

"Oh my God, Mike, no! Steve's going on a date and we need to catch him to figure out who he's going out with! We need Nancy to drive us there."

"Dustin, do you realize how idiotic that sounds? Nancy's not gonna drive you to go spy on her ex and his new girlfriend!" Mike hung up without another word.

Groaning, Dustin tried to call again, but he was met only with the dial tone.

Max rolled her eyes. "I told you it wouldn't work."

"I'm calling the Byers," Dustin grumbled. He dialed the number, but when Joyce picked up, she was talking to someone else in the house and by the time Dustin had gotten out "Is Jonathan there?" he heard the click of the receiver being put back.

"Try my sister," Max said.

Dustin dialed the number to Max's trailer, but no one answered. He shook his head.

"She's probably out running," Max sighed.

"Another run? Isn't that all she does now?" Dustin asked with a frown.

Max shrugged. "She says it helps her...deal with things."

Dustin sensed a can of worms—the kind that most people would avoid, the kind that Max clearly wanted to talk about anyway. So he asked it, when most people wouldn't. "Things?"

Max nodded slowly. "Yeah. You know...the Upside Down, Eddie..." She hesitated. "Billy."

Dustin glanced down at his feet. There was blood associated with all of those memories. He knew they plagued all of them, those who'd survived Vecna and his creatures, and he knew that they all had different ways of coping. Dustin's was research, Max's was music, yours was running.

"She's more like him than she wants to admit," Max said. "At least, she is with the running. Billy, he...he used to exercise to distract himself. She runs."

"Is that a bad thing?" Dustin asked.

"No, it's just... She needs someone in her corner is all. And I don't...I don't think that person is me anymore."

Dustin's heart squeezed in his chest. "Max..."

She shook off his concern. "Come on—we'd better start walking, or we're never going to make it to Enzo's on time!"

~❊~

It started to rain halfway through their walk to Enzo's.

The storm didn't start gently. There was no warning before it started to pour, no flash of lightning or boom of thunder. Just a steady downpour, hard and fast and painful against the skin.

Dustin and Max hid from the weather as much as they could, ducking under store awnings and hiding under outdoor umbrellas as they came across them.

After getting turned around at least twice, they spotted the restaurant's glowing sign. They ran toward it, stopping at the bay windows peering in. They scanned the tables inside. From the parking lot behind them, there was laughter and the slamming of car doors.

"Do you see them?" Dustin hissed. He looked at every face he saw, overanalyzing the back of every head that looked like it might be Steve.

"Are we sure they're still there?" Max said. "It's been, what, almost an hour and a half? Who eats for that long?"

Dustin shrugged. "Enzo's is a fancy place, they've got designated courses and shit. They could still be there."

A car engine revved. "Are you sure?" Max took Dustin by the shoulders and spun him around. "Is it just me, or does that look like—"

"Steve's car!" Dustin hissed. "Shit!"

They raced after it in the rain, Dustin catching sight of Steve through the driver's side window, his hair perfect and a huge grin on his face.

"Is he wearing a suit jacket?" Max asked.

"Did you see who was in the passenger's seat?" Dustin demanded.

Max didn't answer, still staring after the car, her face fixed into confusion.

"Max?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I...I couldn't tell who it was."

Dustin groaned. "Shit! That was our one chance!"

"We'll get another one," Max snapped. "He's been going on dates a lot, right? Robin said so, and he's always gone because he's been on a date. He'll go on another one with her soon."

Dustin sighed. "Good point. Now we just have to wait. Come on—we should call Robin."

~❊~

Max walked home in the rain by herself, hearing her mother fuss that she would get a cold if she kept walking around in the rain without a jacket, but not caring. Louder than her mother's voice was El's: friends don't lie.

Should Max have told Dustin what—who—she saw in Steve's car? Or the fact that she'd seen them going into Steve's burgundy BMW in the parking lot while he'd been focused on the store?

No.

Yes?

It was too late now. Besides, was she absolutely sure of who she'd seen?

Well, yes, she knew you better than anyone. You'd been by her side her entire life. There were pictures hanging in the trailer of Mom in the hospital bed after she'd given birth to Max, but it was you who was holding her, sitting in the plastic chair next to the bed.

The lights of the trailer were on when Max reached it, but only your car was in the driveway.

She pushed the door open. "Hey, I'm home!"

You poked your head out of the door to your bedroom. Your hair was just as drenched and stringy as her own. "Max! There you are, I was worried— Why are you soaking wet?"

"I walked home," she said, shrugging.

You hurried out of your room. "Come on, we need to get you out of those clothes. Mom will kill us both if she finds out we've both been out in the rain in the wrong kind of clothes."

"Where were you?" Max asked as you brought her into the bathroom.

You glanced up at her but didn't meet her eyes. "You couldn't get a ride home?" You left her in the bathroom, running into her room to grab her some dry clothes.

"No—Steve's the only one who will drive us anywhere, and he's unavailable most of the time."

Guilt flashed over your face. Max narrowed her eyes, watching you closely. You didn't seem to notice. "We'll tell Mom we took showers if she gets back before our hair dries." You paused. "You could have called me, you know."

"I did," she said. "You didn't answer."

Your face fell. "Max, I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Are you dating Steve?"

The question stopped you in your tracks. "Max, I..."

"Are you?"

You sighed, wiping a a hand over your face. You sighed. "Yeah."

Max sighed. "Hand me a towel, please." You did so silently, taking one of your own to towel-dry your hair. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You shrugged. "At first, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. I mean... I knew I liked Steve, but his track record with girls hasn't been good lately, and I..." You sighed. "I wanted reassurance he wouldn't be gone after a week."

"And after that?"

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. "This is...gonna sound stupid, but... Steve has been everything for you guys. For you, for Dustin, for El, everybody. He's saved you countless times, I watched him stand up to our brother to protect us, even though Billy beat him bloody for it. I didn't...I didn't want to feel like I was taking him away from you all, but I also...kind of wanted him to myself sometimes. And he seemed to want time alone for the two of us, too, so..." You looked up at Max. "And I didn't...want you to feel like I was taking away from you. After Billy..." Your voice caught in your throat.

There it was again. The silence that surrounded death.

"Died," Max whispered. "After he died."

You nodded. "After he died, I know Steve kind of...stepped up for you. I didn't want you to feel like he cared less about you just because I was in the picture now." You laughed shakily. "I know that kind of, uh, backfired. I'm sorry to keep him away from you guys for so long."

Max shook her head. "Stop apologizing for wanting someone that's yours." She breathed out a laugh. "I was just telling Dustin that you needed someone in your corner. I should have known it would be Steve. I mean, he's always been there for the rest of us, why wouldn't he be there for you?"

You looked over at Max. "Just how mad is Dustin that I'm dating Steve?"

"He doesn't know," Max said. "We've been trying to figure out who Steve's mystery girl is for months. He won't tell anybody, so Dustin wanted to try and see if we could figure it out ourselves." She glanced at you. "We saw you guys last night. At Enzo's. Or rather, I saw you. Dustin was too busy trying to peer inside the restaurant to even notice Steve's car."

You made a face. "How can you not notice Steve's car? It's a burgundy BMW for Christ's sake."

"I know!" Max giggled.

You laughed with her for a minute. The lightness in her voice—it had been a while since you'd heard her laugh like that.

After a moment, you said, "So...nobody else knows that it's me Steve is dating?"

Max shook her head. "Not even Robin."

You whistled. "I'm surprised Steve's capable of keeping a secret from her. It's gotta be killing him, I just know it." You giggled. "However...we could have some fun with this."

Max raised her eyebrows.

"If Dustin wants to know who's Steve's dating, he can keep digging as much as he wants." You grinned. "That's gotta be amusing, surely?"

~❊~

The storm that had swept in over a week ago had lasted the whole week, turning Hawkins into a mud patch and its roads into rivers. It let up briefly, leaving behind perfect spring days, only to return with a vengeance the next week—randomly on a Thursday afternoon.

Thursdays had become movie nights at Steve's house, and Dustin had concocted a plan to trick Steve into telling him who he was dating.

Max knew it wasn't gonna work. She had been present when you told Steve about Dustin's snooping and the both of you had decided to continue yanking Dustin's chain. Steve had seemed more excited about it than even you had.

While Steve set up his house for the group of rambunctious teenagers for movie night, Dustin explained his plan to Max in whispers.

"So, I'm going to try talking about Suzie for the first few hours," Dustin started, watching Steve like a hawk while he moved about in the kitchen, making popcorn for the group. "Get him thinking about his own relationship, you know? And then you know how he gets—" He cut himself off abruptly when Steve came into the living room with bowls of popcorn, setting them on the coffee table.

"Any idea when your sister's supposed to be here, Max?" Steve asked. "I thought she was driving you."

Max shook her head. "She said she'd come after she got out of work, but I don't remember when her shift ended."

Steve nodded. He disappeared up the stairs in the next moment.

"You know how he gets when it gets late into the movie and its dark and he's focused?" Dustin continued, picking up immediately.

Max frowned. "Like when he's so focused on something you can ask him a question and he'll either go 'huh?' and make you repeat it or he'll just answer without thinking?"

"Exactly like that," Dustin said. "That's when I'm—"

Steve returned with a stack of blankets. "How many of us are there, again? Twelve?"

"Thirteen," Dustin and Max both said.

Steve tossed the blankets onto the couch. "Go grab five more. Up the stairs, closet on the left."

They went up the stairs, Dustin whispering again before they'd even reached the landing. "I'm gonna ask him who he's going out with when he's like that."

Max rolled her eyes. "You don't know that'll work. He could say 'huh?' and make you repeat the question, like I just said."

Dustin shrugged. "Then I'll ask him something different, wait a little bit longer, and then ask again. He can't do that the whole night. Can he?"

"How should I know?" Max picked up the blankets and started back downstairs. Steve was whistling in the kitchen. "This whole plan is so stupid, Dustin. It's hardly a plan!"

"Do you have a better idea?" he hissed.

Max stayed silent. Of course she had better ideas, but those might make Steve actually tell Dustin.

"That's what I thought," Dustin said, clearly on the wrong path. "We'll stick with my plan." He glanced at Steve's back in the kitchen. "Unless your sister knows who he's dating? They're pretty much best friends now, right?"

Max nodded. "Blame Robin for that," she said, praying her poker face held. "I don't think she knows. I can't see Steve telling her if he hasn't told Robin."

"Fair point," Dustin decided. "Even more reason to rely on my plan."

She rolled her eyes. "Your plan is just going to annoy him until he kicks you out of his house."

"He likes me too much," Dustin said, with confidence Max wasn't sure he should possess—not about this, at least.

When they reached the first floor again, Steve was pacing around the living room, double checking he had everything set up. Max had to admit she liked the set up he had for movie night: the coffee table was set up with bowls of popcorn and a drink tray, there was a cooler next to filled with water bottles and soda cans, he had dragged every pillow in the house to the couch and floor, a fluffy winter comforter spread out on the carpet to make the floor more comfortable, and an egregious number of bagged snacks in a wicker basket.

"I think we're all set, guys," Steve said, surveying the room with his hands on his hips.

As if cued by Steve's motherly behavior, the rain outside grew louder, falling fast against the AC unit in the window. Steve winced.

"Looks like we're going to have to have the volume up high to hear the movie over the storm," he said.

"What are we watching?" Dustin asked.

Steve shrugged. "I dunno. We've got a couple choices in that cabinet over there, plus the stuff Robin's bringing. I think Nance had a movie she wanted to suggest, too, but I can't remember what it was..." His eye caught on the stack of blankets, leaning down to count them.

Dustin dug through the movie cabinet. "Come on, Steve, what are these movies? Why are they all romantic comedies?"

"Because they're my mom's favorite, dipshit," Steve said with an affectionate roll of his eyes.

"There's nothing of value here!"

"Well, I'm not watching Star Wars again, so—"

"It was Star Trek last week!"

"Even worse." Steve looked up at Max and waved her over. She glanced at Dustin, but he was too busy judging Mrs. Harrington's taste in rom-coms to notice her get up.

"Would it be too obvious if I gave your sister my blanket? I miscounted and we're short one."

Max bit back a laugh. "I think Nancy might notice, Robin would definitely notice, but Dustin's still a little too oblivious for that."

Steve huffed a sigh. "Can't have one of them letting it slip. Alright, fine, I'll use mine and give her a different one." He glanced at his watch. "Her shift ended almost an hour ago, she should be here any minute."

Max frowned. "Why do you know her work schedule better than I do?"

He shrugged. "In case she needs a ride to or from work. Can't leave her stranded if her car breaks down again."

A knock sounded at the door. Steve grinned at Max, both of them knowing you had arrived. He rushed to the door, slowing down only when he was within Dustin's sightline again.

You were hugging your arms when he opened the door, your hair wet and stringy, your clothes soaked through. "What took you so long, Stevie?!" you demanded, hurrying through the door. Max pointed to Dustin before you could kiss Steve's cheek.

"Jesus, you're soaked," Steve said, taking in your more than damp appearance. "Did you walk here?"

"No," you said, pointing out the still-open door to your car. "It's just raining hard enough that I got drenched on the run from my car to your door."

Steve slammed the door shut before more water could get inside. "Uh, okay, come on, I think I've got something for you to change into."

You blinked at him, gaze flicking briefly to Dustin. "Oh, no, that's alright, I'll just—"

"I'm not letting you stay uncomfortable and catch a cold in these clothes," Steve insisted. You nodded, all too ready to curl up in one of Steve's sweaters. "Come on—you two, we'll only be a minute. Answer the door if anyone else comes while we're gone."

Steve ushered you upstairs. Max waited a few minutes before telling Dustin she'd be right back, using the bathroom as her excuse, wanting to keep an eye on the two of you and stop you from any funny business. She followed the damp footprints you'd left behind, slipping into the bathroom across from Steve's room and peering around the door. She smiled at what she saw.

You had ditched your wet pants and shirt and were pulling on a pair of Steve's jeans. Steve had his back turned as he dug through his dresser.

"Um...do you need a different bra? I'm pretty sure you left one here last time..." Steve glanced back at you and smiled. "God, you look cute."

You looked up at him, cheeks pink. "You're just saying that because I'm half-naked in your bedroom and the clothes I'm wearing are yours."

Steve shook his head, still smiling. "I'm sayin' it 'cause you're cute." He walked over to you, sweater in hand, and kissed your nose. "You are beautiful, Miss Mayfield." He brushed your wet hair out of your face. "Arms up, honey."

You lifted your arms for him and he tugged his sweater over your head. He pulled you to his chest as soon as it was on, holding you like it was the last time he ever would. Max watched your hand go into his hair, pulling a soft sigh from him.

"Kiss me, Stevie," you whispered, coaxing his head toward your own with your hand.

Eyes closed, Steve obeyed, kissing you softly, chastely. Max heard the movie-perfect sound of your lips parting before you tugged him back down for a second kiss, deeper than the first.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you," you said back. The two of you smiled at each other, sickeningly sweet, and Max wondered if the look on your face was the same one on hers whenever she was with Lucas.

Steve adjusted his sweater on your body one more time. "We should get back downstairs," he said. "Dustin might get suspicious."

You fell back into his arms for another hug. "Okay."

Steve took your hand and slowly lead you out of his bedroom, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to have to let go and pretend to just be friends. "Your sister thought it would be too much to give you my blanket during the movie, but I think I like having you in my clothes more."

You smiled. "If it's anything scary, I'll jump a lot and cling to you and we can blame it on the movie."

Steve grinned. "Let's hope Robin brings a good scary movie, and that Eddie wins the vote tonight, then."

Max shut the door before you could see it was open, making sure it closed quietly, quickly flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink and made a show of opening the door to see the two of you. She glanced pointedly at your hands.

"I thought we were still making Dustin guess," she said.

Steve sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He brought your joined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before letting you go. "Alright, I'm done now."

The three of you headed back downstairs, Max at the lead and you just behind. Max knew Steve had let you go down the stairs first just so he could watch you prance around in his clothes and run his gaze over you again, but she'd give him a pass, just this once. You did look rather at home in his clothes.

Max watched you while you made yourself at home in your usual spot, in the middle cushion on the Harringtons' couch. In fact, she realized, you looked more like yourself, the happiest you'd been, since Billy had died—maybe even since you'd left California.

Credit where credit was due, Max would have to thank Steve somehow (without it seeming like she was thanking him for bringing you back).

"You want anything?" Steve asked you, tossing you one of the blankets. He set his down on the cushion next to you, then the blanket Robin had claimed on your other side.

"I'm all set," you promised. "Anyone else here yet, Dusty?"

Dustin rolled over onto his back from the place on the floor he'd claimed as his several months back, which he said was the best place to watch the movie from, but Max knew was his spot because it was still close enough to Steve, too. The middle, which was hers, was definitely a better view than Dustin's righthand side.

"Not yet," he said. "Hi."

You smiled. "Hi. Find a good movie?"

"No," Dustin said. "Steve's taste sucks."

Steve narrowed his eyes, picking up a piece of popcorn and throwing it at him. "For the last time, it's my mom's rom-com collection!"

~❊~

Max lay in her spot between Lucas and Dustin, Erica on the other side of Lucas, only half-paying attention to the movie while she braided El's hair, Will and Mike snuggling on the opposite side of Dustin. Max was sure Dustin felt singled out, being boarded by two couples, plus Nancy and Jonathan sharing a blanket and a lounge chair just behind him. Eddie had curled himself up on the chair on Steve's opposite side, covering himself in his blanket to protect himself from the blow of the AC unit.

Robin had managed to snag a new release that had just arrived at Family Video—Tim Burton's Beetlejuice, a movie that had only been out for a few months in the theaters. The kids on the floor had propped themselves up on their elbows, drinks and half-eaten bowls of popcorn in front of them.

Every so often, Max faked a yawn to duck her head back to glance at her sister and Steve. Robin was stretched out across both your laps, and the two of you had leaned together to share both of your blankets after Steve had muttered something about the AC being too cold, only for the others to shout for him not to touch it.

And judging from the way you and Steve occasionally exchanged a look, Max guessed you were holding hands beneath the blanket.

Max turned her attention back to the movie, lifting a small handful of popcorn to her mouth. Not so subtly, Lucas fake-stretched and laid his arm over her shoulders. Giggling quietly, Max snuggled into his side. She heard your amused hum behind from behind her, followed by a small chuckle of Steve's.

As it had the entire movie, thunder crashed outside. While the rain had lightened up enough not to be distracting, the flash of lightning visible through the curtains and the boom of thunder had been frequent and often made the room's occupants jump in fear.

Another boom of thunder announced the power flickering.

Dustin looked back at Steve. "Uh, Steve?"

"We've got a generator," Steve said, but he had sat up straighter and had pulled away from you, his face uneasy.

With the next flicker of lightning and crash of thunder, the power went out.

The group of thirteen sat in the pitch-black room in silence. Lightning illuminated faces briefly, showing Max that Robin had sat up, and that you, Steve, and Eddie were all on your feet.

"There are candles in the study," Steve said, breaking the silence. His voice was wavering, and Max remembered you saying something about cutting a date short due to the storm earlier that week. Was Steve...afraid of storms?

"I'll get them," you said.

"Matches in the drawer next to the sink and lanterns in the sunroom storage cabinet," he continued. "Eds, come on, let's go see if we can get the power back to the fridge and a few lights, yeah?"

"After you," Eddie said and followed Steve out the front door. The pattering rain grew louder as the door opened, revealing a world in grey scale, but still lighter than the inside of the house.

Dustin sat up. "Candles? Why not just use flashlights?"

"Steve only has two flashlights," Robin said. "Working ones, at least. But candles? The Harringtons have plenty of those."

Max followed you around the house, lighting the lanterns as you found them and helping you carry the candles back to the living room.

With the room now illuminated by flickering flame, it was easy to see the worry on people's faces.

"Do you think the whole town's out?" Mike asked.

"No, it can't be," Nancy said, but she didn't sound sure.

Will wriggled out from under his blanket. The look he exchanged with Jonathan was concerned.

"Everybody keep calm," you said, setting a lantern down on the floor at the center of the group. "Steve and Eddie will get the generator running in no time."

Silence fell, still and eerie. You sat beside Max and Lucas, and Max laid her head in your lap, trying to smile up at you. It only took a look for her to know you were lost in your head, in memories of the night Billy went AWOL and had been controlled by the Mind Flayer.

Max took your hand in hers. "It's okay," she promised.

"Mmm," you hummed, but your gaze was fixed on the door; you wouldn't relax until you saw Steve walk back in, unscathed.

The AC kicked back on. A few lights flickered to life and the low hum of the refrigerator filled the room.

Relief filled the room with the sound of an audible sigh. Moments later, the door opened and a waterlogged Steve and Eddie stepped back in.

"Did it work?" Steve asked. Then he heard the AC. "Alright, good." He looked around. "Turn the lights back off—the candles will do until power really comes back."

"Steve, you're drenched," Nancy said, "you're going to catch—"

"A cold, I know," he sighed, glancing over at you. You fought a smile. "Sorry about movie night, guys."

Dustin shrugged. "It was only a matter of time before we lost power. The size of the storm—"

"Oh, shut up, nerd," Erica said, rolling her eyes.

Dustin leaned around Lucas. "Do I need to remind you of the vents?" he hissed.

Erica narrowed her eyes at him.

"Children, children," Eddie admonished with a shit-eating grin that said he knew his chiding was only going to rile them up more.

"Eds," Steve warned, opening the curtains to look outside.

Eleven craned her neck to peer outside. In a small voice, she asked, "Can...can we dance in the rain?"

Nancy hesitated, then said, "I'm not sure that's the best idea, the weather isn't exactly kind at the moment."

Steve looked back outside again. "It's not raining too heavily right now."

El wrung her hands. "Joyce says it's...fun and romantic to dance in the rain."

Robin leaned forward, gasping. "You've never danced in the rain before?"

El shook her head. "Only biked in it."

"We have to go dance in the rain!" Robin insisted, jumping to her feet and pulling Eleven up with her. "It's a...a...a cognitive milestone!"

"I don't think that's the right phrase, Robin," you laughed, but you were also getting up. "Still, I think it's a good idea. Good way to pass the time until the power comes back."

"Come on, Nancy," Jonathan said softly. "Let her have fun. Mom's right. It's fun in the rain."

You took one of Robin's hands and one of Steve's and dragged them into the rain. Robin created a chain by grabbing El, who grabbed Max, who grabbed Lucas. The small group raced out into the street, running through puddles and spinning through the falling rain.

Dustin appeared at Max's side, his hair matted to his face. "It's like the time they were drugged by the Russians," he said, staring at Steve and Robin, the latter of whom was trying to taste the rain.

Max did a doubletake. "When they were what?"

"Don't ask," Erica suggested.

Laughter filled the air as the group danced around each other, twirling each other and splashing through the current of water at the side of the road. Steve tripped through puddles with Robin; Jonathan convinced Nancy to dance in the driveway; Will and Mike splashed each other in the puddles.

"May I have this dance?" Lucas asked, holding his hand out to Max and trying his best to look gentlemanly, which was ruined by the water running into his eyes and making him squint.

"You dork," Max laughed, but she took his hand anyway and let him pull her close, guiding her in a slow dance through the rain. She rested her head on his shoulder and watched as you went over to Steve and Robin.

Steve stopped his fooling around, watching you approach with a dopey, lovesick smile. He held out his hands to you and you took them; he twirled you in the rain, catching you and pulling you close before you could fall in the wet road.

"Careful there," he laughed. Even with his hair plastered to his head, his clothes heavy and hanging off him, you were still looking at him like he was the most beautiful creature you'd ever seen.

Max watched the time slow around the pair of you. She knew you were both completely oblivious, cut off from the company around you, even from Robin's stare as she took in the way the two of you gazed at each other.

Steve swayed you, getting himself lost in your eyes. He cupped your face with one hand, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

Lost in your bubble, neither of you noticed that the others had all stopped to watch, unable to speak and break the spell—not even Dustin, whose mouth hung agape.

You were lost in Steve, Max could tell. Close enough to the pair of you now, she could see you drinking in every detail: the water droplets hanging off Steve's hair and eyelashes, the amazed curve of his open mouth, the gentle swipe of his thumb, the lovestruck look in his eyes, his rosy cheeks so stark against his otherwise pale, cold, and wet skin, the reassuring hold of his arm around your waist.

Max knew what Steve was going to do before it happened, before even you had caught up. He bent his head, slotting your lips together.

Like some magic, divine will, the rain fell a little faster, distant thunder boomed, and lightning splintered through the sky, lighting up the clouds above you and Steve, a dramatic backdrop to a kiss so similar to a first kiss.

Robin whooped first. You and Steve smiled into each other, but neither pulled away, and Max realized you had been aware of your audience the entire time; but keeping it a secret hadn't been worth skipping out on a spectacular rain-soaked kiss.

Mixed in with the cheering was Dustin's incredulous cries of "What?! Max, did you know?!" that she pointedly ignored.

Steve swayed you while the kiss continued, embarrassingly long but adorably sweet. When it finally broke, Steve pressed his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he said, loud enough to be heard over the storm. (Robin shrieked.)

"I love you, too," you giggled. (Robin shrieked louder.)

Steve pushed your wet hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead, then shoved his hand through his own hair to get it out of his face.

"Not what you were expecting, huh, Henderson?" he said with a cheeky grin.

Dustin looked flabbergasted. "How did you know I was— MAX!"

You and Steve burst into a fit of giggles. You snuggled into his chest.

"How is that comfortable? I'm soaked!" Steve asked you.

"Yeah, but it's you," you said. A soft, sweet smile pulled at his lips, barely distracting you from his quiet moan of relief. He squeezed you tight.

"You're going to need to borrow more of my clothes," he said.

You grinned up at him. "I'll happily live in your clothes, Stevie."

A few feet away, Mike sneezed violently.

"Alright, back inside," Steve decided. "That's enough rain for today. I don't need you all getting sick and still needing me to drive you everywhere."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Are you actually gonna drive us again?"

"If you give my girl the front seat and behave when she's in the car with us," Steve said. "Inside, come on. Go, shoo."

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, watching the others flee to the safety of his house, then following them in with you. You kissed his cheek as you walked. Max hung back with Lucas, wanting to know what you said about the sudden rain kiss.

"You are perfect, Steve Harrington," you whispered. His cheeks darkened.

"Says you," he said, nuzzling his nose into your hair. "Hey, um... You wanna stay the night?"

"Gotta take Max home," you said. "But...I can come back?"

"I...I'd like that," Steve said. Max wondered if he'd ever been this shy with a girl before.

"Me too," you whispered. Steve squeezed your hip.

Dustin rolled his eyes from the doorway. "Get a room," he groaned.

"Oh, shut up," Max teased. "You're just annoyed you couldn't figure it out!"

Dustin scowled. "You knew! You knew and you were hiding it from me!"

Max shrugged, fighting a giggle.

Steve passed out towels with a warning not to let them get close to an open flame. Halfway through his warning, the power flickered back on—and so did the movie.

The group cheered, but Max watched you and Steve sneak upstairs and come down a few minutes later in dry clothes, hand in hand. She smiled before shaking her head and turning back to the ending of the movie.

And if—no, when—Steve asked her for advice on how to propose to you, Max was going to tell him to do it in the rain.

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

[lokischocolatefountain]

Guess

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13, fluff

Word count:

Summary: A game of guessing goes right in every way for you and Din, your kind of friend, sort of boss.

A/N: Day 1 of my fic advent calendar and my first Din Djarin fic on here! Credits to my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie for co-creating the reader character and for our long conversations about her and Din. Keep checking the advent calendar Masterlist for more fics dropping this month. And leave me a little comment to encourage me to keep the fics going 💜💜💜

“Stop scowling.”

“I’m not scowling,” he lied, trying his best to keep his tone neutral even though he was surprised that she knew he was scowling. Lucky guess, he told himself. But how many lucky guesses could one person have about his facial expressions?

“You so were!” She insisted, sinking further back into the novelty ‘chair’ she bought on their last stop. It was a sphere half filled with tiny soft particles that molded itself to the user’s shape. She slouched on it as she continued watching one of her holodramas, something with a murder or speeders (or both) at the heart of the story.

“I was not.”

“If you say so, Din Can,” she said, using her nickname for him. He chuckled reflexively, unable to control his responses to her. Thankfully, his helmet filtered the sound out, saving him the embarrassment of finding humor in the humiliating nickname. He smiled, glad she didn’t know just how many times she’d made him laugh whether by mocking him or making clever remarks in general.

“I do say so.”

She was beautiful. Taking up the creed meant hiding one’s own face from others. To hide what would serve as the basis of others’ first impression of you so that your valor and your character would serve as your defining features. Vanity was not something he was raised with. Yet he knew beauty when it stared him in the eye and called him Din Can everyday. Or Tin Djarin. Buckethead when he really pissed her off.

Dinny Bear when she was intoxicated.

Blood rushed to his cheek when he thought of the last time she did that. She’d gotten very comfortable around him in the months they’d been crew mates. All her initial jitters and jumpiness around him had gone and been replaced with her stubbornness, strange sense of humour, and a level of confidence she didn’t have with him before.

He had to chase her down to even get her to accept the job he was offering her as a travelling mechanic. He’d never heard of one before. And she was quite frightened of him after the kind of interaction they had at Peli’s shop. But he needed a mechanic on board. With the kid in his hands now, it became hard to juggle a failing ship with hunting bounties and caring for a mischievous kid who waited for the moment he took his eyes off him to cause chaos.

It helped to have a mechanic on board at all times. She was wonderful and came approved by Peli. Over time, she became more than his mechanic. A friend, he would be brave enough to say. If he were braver with women, he would say that he’s caught her sneaking glances at him. That he felt her twinkling eyes rove over his armor every now and then. Sometimes he was confident of it. At others, he convinced himself that his mind was clouded by his desire for her. By his desire for her to desire him too.

The matter of his expressions came up once again later after dinner.

“Stop looking so grumpy.”

“You cannot see my face.”

“Yeah but you look grumpy.”

He grunted, turning away from her to focus on the controls. They were on hyperspeed. There was nothing he needed to do with the controls. But to come face to face with her when she told him exactly what he did underneath his helmet was…too much.

“Heyy! Let’s play a game?” She asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Play with Grogu.”

“He’s asleep. And this is not a game for little potatoes.”

He chuckled softly at the nickname and looked up at her again, awaiting her proposal. “What would that be?” He asked.

“A drinking game.”

“Drinking is a game now?”

“Dank farrik! I missed when you used to be quiet. Just listen to me. I’ll guess what your face looks like under your helmet and if I get it right, you should take a sip of your drink. And if I get it wrong, I take a sip. Let’s do it with the Silver Elixir,” she said, getting up from her seat to fetch the bottle from their liquor cabinet they kept locked to keep away from wandering little womp rats.

She returned with the bottle, two glasses and straws. They’d recently taken to drinking together. She bought him a straw a begged him to join her, using her sweet eyes and her adorable pout to convince him. She said she only had drinks with friends and that drinking alone on the razor crest made her feel lonely.

He gave in to her, just like he gave in to their little green crewmate.

She didn’t need to use a straw, of course. Yet she did. When he asked, she said it was so that he didn’t feel lonely drinking through a straw like a kid. Even in her insults, she managed to be sweet.

“Start guessing,” he said impatiently as she sat next to him and looked intently at their glasses to see if they were filled equally.

“Sure, sure… You have dark hair,” she said, passing his drink to him. “Dark brown.”

“A little too obvious, isn’t it?” He asked, knowing she had definitely seen his hair in the trash after he gave himself haircuts and shaved his facial hair.

“Drink up, old man!” She said, lips wide in a grin as she knew already that she was right.

He snorted, but followed through, taking a sip of the strong liquor. “Alright. Next.”

“You have….big green ears.”

“Wrong,” he huffed, smiling nevertheless at her sense of humour.

“Damn it! I should’ve known they wouldn’t fit inside the helmet,” she said, taking a sip. She was smiling too, and unlike his, it was out in the open and as bright as the stars around them.

“Those were two descriptors. Big and green. Take one more sip,” he argued. He didn’t particularly want to get her drunk, but he liked how adorable she was when intoxicated. One of their drinking sessions ended with her snuggling up to him because she couldn’t find the kid to snuggle like a children’s stuffed animal.

“What? No! It was one guess, so it’s one sip.”

“Again, you guessed the size and color of my ears and they were both wrong. Take a sip.”

She rolled her eyes, but complained, taking another sip. She leaned close and narrowed her eyes at him, as though focusing on his helmet would reveal what was underneath. He smiled unconsciously, taking in the beauty of her from up close. The light in her eyes, the way her eyebrows knit together when she was in deep thought, lips that impressed him with the wittiest remarks… Lips he wanted desperately to pull to his, to devour and make moan his name.

“No moustache.”

“Hmmm….” He hummed, thinking of how he could sort the point for this. He *did* have a moustache, but that was only now. There were times when he shaved it off completely. “It’s complicated. I have a moustache now, but I change it quite frequently. So, half a sip.”

“If I have to take half a sip, so should you.”

“No, I don’t,” he scoffed at her warped logic. Here he was, being nice and giving her some credit even though she was wrong. But she was trying to take advantage of it.

“Yeah you should. If I’m taking half a sip because I was half right and half wrong, you should also take a sip because you’re half right and half wrong.”

“No. That’s not how it works. I have facial hair now, which means you are wrong. I should’ve made you take a full sip, but I decided to make a concession because I am sometimes fully shaven.”

“Dank Farrik! You’re such a lightweight. Just say you can’t handle your liquor and I’ll let you go,” she taunted, a smirk plying at her lips.

“Oh please, I can handle my liquor much better than you can. Here,” he said, drinking the strong undiluted alcohol like it was water in a few big sips. He slammed the glass against the control panel surface and shrugged. “See, I’m good. You are the one who gets drunk after one portion of the Silver Elixir and terrorizes the kid.”

She gasped, as though he made a much bigger accusation. “I don’t terrorize the kid! I just give him extra cuddles and kisses. He enjoys them very much. It’s called affection, Tin Can. Ever heard of it?”

He tilted his head at her in the way that sometimes made her swallow audibly. “So you think that because of my way of life, I have never experienced affection?”

She opened and closed her mouth quickly, as though her mind and lips were in disagreement about whether or not what they were about to say was appropriate. He smiled under his helmet, proud of himself for stumping her. She talked a lot. Since he was a quiet man, everyone else was talkative in comparison. But she was the voice he heard the most as they lived together on the Razor Crest and their other occupant communicated mostly in coos and squeals.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Say what. Since the drinking thing was already disproportionate anyway because I’m not guessing your features and I can handle my liquor much better than you do….lets change the rules.” He took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of his words but unable to miss this opportunity. “For each correct guess you make, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“You’re kidding,” she said, scoffing.

“I’m not known for my humor.”

She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. Kriff, the things she did without even knowing! He thought he could die from the anticipation of hearing her next guess. Would she guess something ridiculous like big green ears to make sure she doesn’t have to kiss him? Or would she make a very obviously correct guess?

“You have…” she trailed in a softer voice, looking at him almost coyly. “…pink lips.”

Not the most obvious guess. Not all humans had pink lips. And he could easily not be human. He didn’t remember telling her he was… But if she was going for something for a higher likelihood of being correct… Kriff he hoped she was. “Do you want me to turn the lights off or blindfold you?” He asked, conveying indirectly that she was right.

“Wh-whaaat? Why?” She sputtered, looking at him with those pretty eyes, vulnerability brimming in her expressions.

Did he get the wrong idea? Maybe her obvious guesses weren’t because she wanted to be right so she could kiss him… Maybe it was just the product of her usual playful nature.

“Because I will have to take my helmet off when I kiss you,” he proceeded to say, even as his heart beat faster with the anxiety of how this could go. They were adults. It it was a misunderstanding, he would simply get over it and do his best to not make it awkward between them. “And you cannot see me.”

“I…” she trailed off before letting out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Again. Not known for my humor,” he said, letting a smile seep into his words. She was so kriffing adorable, looking all nervous like a blurrg stuck in a doorway. “You don’t have to, of course. I can give you something else. Ten credits, perhaps?”

“What, no. A deal is a deal.”

“Then tell me, my dear mechanic. Lights out or blindfold?”

“Lights out.”

Pity. He was hoping to see her pretty face when he kissed her. Not moving from where he was, he pressed the buttons on the control panel, turning all the lights out. In the pitch black of outer space, he could see nothing. Perfect.

“What can you see?” He asked, just to be sure.

“Nothing,” she said, in her voice so low and soft that it was swallowed up by the darkness. What entity wouldn’t want to swallow up something his pretty mechanic put out? Every word she said, every touch of her fingers against the trees and rocks and flowers. If he were air, he would luxuriate in her scent. If he were water, he would caress her skin and play with her hair as he cleansed her. If he were fire, he would creep into her skin, warm her up when she needed. But he was nothing but man. So, he would have to satisfy himself with a kiss from her lips.

“Are you sure?” She asked as he stepped forward to her.

“I am. Are *you* sure?”

There was silent for a moment before she said, “Yes. Kiss me.”

Needing nothing else, he took his helmet off and placed it carefully on his seat. His heart thudded against his ribs, and his breaths grew labored. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

In all his years, he had never kissed anyone. It was not part of the culture of his people what with the metal barriers that kept them from it. He remembered the sweet kisses on his forehead and cheeks from before he took the creed. But that was not what his heart desired. He wanted the kind of thing she watched on her holopad, all the holodramas with characters who showed their desire through an intense kiss that left their partner speechless.

He reached forward and found her hand. She gasped softly, the quietness of the ship letting him in on her soft sounds. He caressed up her arm, enjoying the slight tremble of her skin beneath the tips of his fingers. He stopped at her neck and allowed himself to cradle it in his hand. He felt her lean closer and he reciprocated, taking the final step. He tilted his head to his right feeling that she tilted to her right.

As he closed the gap between them, he felt her warm breath on his skin. He swallowed, his lips parting from how nervous he was. What if he was no good? What if he didn’t have good breath? What if he’s such a bad kisser that she— he gasped softly as she pressed her lips against his. In an instant, she quietened the sounds his head. The fast beating of his heart, he realized was now from the effect of proximity to her more than his insecurities.

She placed one hand on his shoulder and wrapped her other arm around his waist. He let out a shaky breath at the intimacy of their contact and let his other hand trail down her back. She pressed herself closer against his beskar clad chest, making him wish he had the forethought to toss that bit of his armor too. He wanted to feel her. Every bit of her that she was offering up to him like she truly believed he was deserving.

Her lips were soft, just as he’d dreamt them to be. He’d never kissed before. It was an act saved for married couples in the covert, as only your spouse could see you with your helmet off. He had married friends who waxed poetry about the magic of kissing. How they felt like nothing and nobody mattered other than your partner. How it turned you into putty in their hands. He thought it was exaggerated… Until now.

He cupped her cheek, her face fitting in his hand and making him feel a new sense of protectiveness towards her. He’d protected her before, sure, but this felt different. This was something to do with a need to be gentle with her. To cherish her and treasure her. She licked his lips and he parted them instinctively, letting her tongue between his lips. He shuddered as her fingers threaded through his hair. He whimpered and pulled her closer to himself in the moment of vulnerability, using her as a crutch to support him. He’d never been touched like that before…

Her fingers explored his hair and he allowed himself to relax in his arms, even letting himself give her comforting caresses of her back. He felt her melt into his arms as their kiss deepened. She tasted of the silver elixir first, but when they were both a little along the way, he began to taste something that was distinctly her. Something sweet, mixing with the fragrance of her citrusy perfume to further dull his senses.

It was soft, but electrifying. He poured his passions into the kiss, exploring her with his tongue and luxuriating in the sweet little whimpers she let out. The technicalities stopped mattering. He was here, holding the girl he’d been pining for, lips connected as the unlikely result of a stupid game. That moment was all that mattered and her sounds of satisfaction told him that he wasn’t doing so bad after all.

She pulled back in a while and they let out the breaths they’d be holding. She let out a laugh and he smiled, comforted by her job. He didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath. He’d forgetting the necessity for breathing as he found her lips.

“You have…a big nose,” she said, confusing him.

“Huh?” He asked, his mind still clouded from her kiss.

“I get another kiss if I’m right, Dim Djarin,” she teased, pointing to his obliviousness when it came to things of this nature.

“Right,” he said, grinning as he kissed her again. He needed to play games with her more often.

[seiya-starsniper]

hello hello i see you're open to prompts 👀

how about #20"I'm just going to lie right here" for dreamling (or any ship you prefer 👀)

happy writing, my dear 💜✨️

HEY SO REMEMBER THIS PROMPT YOU SENT ME FIVE MONTHS AGO??? Apparently it took me getting another prompt to finally come up with an idea for it, so I've gone and combined the two 😄💖 Gentle Prompts Here and Soft Prompts Here (I'll still accept prompts from both because I am a fluff machine)

-------------

Hob knows something is wrong as soon as his roommate enters their shared apartment and slams the door behind him.

“Morph? You all right?” Hob calls out, pausing his movie and turning to the entryway where Morpheus is angrily pulling off his shoes and shoving his coat onto the hooks. He also practically slams his keys down into the tray on the side table by the door, and Hob winces at the loud clang that echoes through the apartment. He considers asking Morpheus again if he’s all right, but decides to let his moody roommate come to him instead. 

Something is definitely very wrong if his roommate is making this much noise. Morpheus Endless is normally so quiet of a roommate that Hob doesn’t always notice when the other man is even in the apartment at the same time as him. Morpheus was so silent and unassuming that Hob had felt like he was being haunted by a ghost rather than living with a real person the first few months they started living together. Hob would be jump-scared in his own kitchen simply by turning around and finding Morpheus there right behind him. He had no idea another person could walk so quietly. The worst time had been in the bathroom, when Hob had accidentally squirted half a tube of toothpaste all over the other man’s black shirt. From that point forward, Morpheus had started knocking along the walls wherever he walked, so that Hob would know where he was at any given moment.

Still, the pale man was an ideal roommate otherwise, if not a little socially awkward at times. On top of his eerily quiet nature, it had taken months for Hob to get Morpheus to even say more than five words to him whenever they were in the same room together. Hob had first thought Morpheus was just disinterested in being friendly all together, but then one night, like a cat, his roommate peeked his head out of his room to the smell of Hob cooking dinner. Hob has since learned to let Morpheus come to him, instead of trying to impress on the man himself.

Hob’s efforts seem to now be paying off, for instead of stomping off to his bedroom to sulk about whatever it is, Morpheus instead makes his way over to the couch and plants himself directly in front of Hob’s line of vision. Hob tries to give his best reassuring smile as he stares up at the pale man.

“Bad day?” Hob asks gently. “I’m happy to listen, if you’d like. Looks like you could use a hug too.”

Morpheus doesn’t answer, he simply sways somewhat unsteadily for a few moments, before he practically collapses onto the couch. The only problem is, Hob is still very much sitting on said couch, and instead of aiming for the empty spot next to him, Hob instead finds himself with an armful of gangly limbs and untamed hair. 

“Oof,” Hob grunts as he takes on the unexpected weight. Hug it is, then. Morpheus isn’t heavy by any means, but it still takes a moment for Hob to adjust to having what is effectively an oversized cat suddenly in his lap. Hob eventually manages to wiggle his arms out from under Morpheus, before wrapping them around the pale man and pulling him against his chest. Morpheus immediately takes the cue and buries his face in Hob’s shoulder, shaking like a leaf and failing to keep his breathing even.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s all right,” Hob soothes, rubbing at Morpheus’s back. His roommate is freezing from the cold weather outside, but he’s quickly warming up the longer Hob holds him.

Hob doesn’t know what it is that’s upset Morpheus so much, but whatever it is, he’s glad that his roommate isn’t trying to deal with it alone, that they’ve come far enough in their friendship (though Morpheus has yet to call him a friend at this point) for him to show Hob this vulnerable side of him. 

The only downside to this is that this newfound vulnerability is doing absolutely nothing to help Hob’s teeny tiny, absolutely miniscule crush on his roommate. But that’s neither here nor there. Hob tucks the yearning feelings that arise from their newfound intimacy quietly behind his ribs and focuses all his energy into comforting Morpheus instead. 

“Do you…want to talk about it?” Hob asks Morpheus. 

A soft inhale. Then a shake of the head against his shoulder. The motion alerts Hob to the fact that his shoulder is damp, and the realization makes his heart lurch up into his throat. He wants to go out and find whoever or whatever it is that’s upset Morpheus so much and give them an introduction to his fists.

“Okay…” Hob continues, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. He’s here for comfort, not to be a white knight. “That’s fine, we don’t need to get into it. Uhm…can I readjust though? This position’s a bit uncomfortable.”

There’s a short pause, and then eventually, Hob feels Morpheus nod against his shoulder.  

Moving Morpheus is a fairly easy task. If Hob didn’t know any better, he’d think his roommate had been replaced by some sort of mannequin from the way he lets Hob manhandle him so easily. He seems to be mostly aware of what’s happening, which is good, but it’s clear he’s no in any sort of headspace for conversation just yet.

Eventually, Hob is able to rearrange them so that he’s lying with his back resting on the arm of the couch, and Morpheus is sprawled on top of him. Their legs are tangled together and Hob’s also thrown the large throw blanket over them for good measure. Morpheus, of course, reburies his head in Hob’s shoulder, and Hob takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around his roommate’s shoulders once more, rubbing soothing circle’s into the other man’s back.

“See, that’s better now, isn’t it?” Hob asks gently. “Nothing beats a good hug and a cuddle on the couch when you’ve had a bad day.”

Morpheus hums, but otherwise doesn’t offer any other sort of verbal reply. It’s a start.

“You can stay as long as you like,” Hob adds. “I’m just going to lay right here until you decide you want to move.”

“Then you’ll be here until tomorrow,” Morpheus croaks, his voice clearly cracked from crying.

Hob laughs and moves his hand up from Morpheus’s back to ruffle the man’s messy black hair. Morpheus groans in annoyance and bats his hand away, but otherwise does not move from his chin perch on Hob’s shoulder. Somehow, Morpheus's hair looks exactly the same.

“There you are,” Hob says, his voice fond. “Was starting to worry you’d gone mute on me.”

“No,” Morpheus says. “...I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” Hob replies, then adds, “and we can stay here until tomorrow, really, if you like. But I will need to pee at some point.”

Morpheus huffs. “I suppose that is acceptable.”

“Can I tempt you with some food too?” Hob asks. “I’ll even feed it to you if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Morpheus replies. “I can feed myself.”

“All right,” Hob says, shrugging and shifting himself into a more comfortable lying position. “Need anything else? Want to take a nap?”

Morpheus doesn’t answer for some time, and Hob almost thinks the man fell asleep on him already, but then his roommate readjusts his limbs as well and moves his body downwards until his head is resting on Hob’s chest. Hob wants to cry at how adorable he looks, at how right it feels that their bodies fit together so perfectly, like they were made for each other. 

“A nap sounds nice,” Morpheus finally replies, mumbling quietly into Hob’s chest. “And perhaps food when we wake up.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hob agrees. He already knows he’s going to be ordering take-out for tonight, but come tomorrow, he’s going to make all of Morpheus’s favorite foods for the rest of his week. For the rest of his life, if he’d let him.

It doesn’t take terribly long for Morpheus to fall asleep on him, and Hob resists the urge to plant a kiss in the man’s hair, settling instead for gently rubbing at Morpheus’s back. Hob falls asleep not too long after his roommate, and when he dreams, he dreams of a home filled with warmth and joy and love.

[slytherinshua]

MORNING SPECTACLE(S)

genre. fluff. established relationship. warnings. JAEHEE HAS FUCKING GLASSES ON OH MY GOD. ahem morning voice too KSJDFKSDKS. not proofread. i'm so sorry this fic just shows how delusional i am for this man. pairing. jaehee x fem!reader wc. 1k. request. requested by ME. lmao jk not requested. a/n. so i was watching wish's wish right as one does and then BAM. i was dead. cause jaehee wears glasses in the morning when he wakes up KSJDUI@#&(E#RIF@ECWEF. why does this affect me so much I HAVE NO IDEA LIKE I WEAR GLASSES MYSELF EVERY DAY ALL DAY BUT JAEHEE KSDJUWF@#E#RVEFHKVJSKDJHFSK. uhm also his jawline is sharp enough to puncture the hull of an empire class fire nation battle ship leaving thousands to drown at sea because its so sharp ☝️🤓 kill me i want jaehee. also this was not supposed to be my first jaehee fic but the stardew valley au jaehee is sitting strong at 4k and still has much much more to write so have this instead for now.

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t be shy around your boyfriend this morning. Sleeping over in the same bed as your boyfriend for the first time since you had started dating was definitely a step forward in your relationship, but you were determined to make the step as natural and seamless as possible. There was no need to make a big deal out of it. You had been dating for several months now; you were more than passed the flustered stage. Waking up in his arms shouldn’t affect you that much, right? 

It had been nice being able to talk in soft whispers with Daeyoung until you fell asleep snuggled against his chest. You often felt lonely in your apartment at night, so you would FaceTime him until one of you fell asleep on call. But actually falling asleep in his arms was infinitely better than just seeing him on your phone screen.

His warm breath, deep but soft voice, soothing scent, and beautiful face being the last thing you felt, heard, smelled, and saw was something your brain would never forget. For it being your first time sleeping over, it had definitely been nothing short of perfect.

But now you had a predicament. You felt more nervous to open your eyes than you had anticipated. Would he already be awake? What if he was staring at you with that lovesick expression he always wore? You were sure you would be as bright as a tomato if he was. 

You could still feel the warmth of his body, and his left arm wrapped gently around your waist. He was awfully still, so you weren’t sure if he was awake yet or not. Wanting to find out, you slowly opened your eyes, preparing yourself for a sight that would almost certainly make you fall in love all over again.

And it did.

Daeyoung had never told you that he wore glasses in the morning before putting in his contacts. In fact, you had never seen him wear glasses at all during your relationship. You always planned when to meet up, so he had time to get ready properly, including switching out his glasses for the much less noticeable vision correctors. 

You were vaguely aware that he owned a pair, but asking him to model them for you hadn’t ever been a thought on your mind. Daeyoung was already hot, so naturally, you had never thought of how much hotter he might look with glasses. Well, you knew now. The black framed glasses paired with his sleepy pout and messy bed head was probably the most adorable and attractive sight you had ever woken up to. Once he saw that you had opened your eyes, he smiled, suppressing a yawn as he mumbled out a good morning. God, his morning voice.

Yes, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t be shy around your boyfriend this morning. And you were utterly failing at that task. Nervous butterflies were fluttering like crazy in your stomach, and your face already felt hot from just the close distance of you two.

“Did you sleep well?” Daeyoung whispered. You could feel his fingers fiddling with the hem of your T-shirt, smoothly slipping under the fabric to stroke your warm skin.

“You’re…” You started talking in a daze, not even realising what you were about to say until you saw Daeyoung raise his eyebrow.

“Hm?”

“You’re wearing glasses.” You whispered, burying your face in the pillow to hide your embarrassment. Although, you were unable to take your eyes off your boyfriend.

“Yeah…? Why’d you mention it?” He questioned sleepily. You cleared your throat, hoping he would drop the inquiry, but he seemed focused on waiting until you answered him.

“They look hot— you, you look hot.” You muttered, stumbling over your words the longer you looked at him wearing those glasses, your brain entirely short-circuiting. 

Daeyoung smiled, “Is that why you’re so shy this morning?”

“No— no, actually, I was never awake in the first place. See, I’m asleep still.” You whispered hurriedly, shutting your eyes tightly and earning a giggle from your boyfriend. You felt him brush your hair off of your forehead and press a kiss to the skin once he had access. Your breath caught in your throat. Why was everything that he normally did flustering you so much this morning?

“Y/n?” He whispered, making you open your eyes again. He gave you a lazy smile, the same hand that had brushed your hair moving to the side of your face, cupping your cheek, stroking your cheekbone.

There was something mesmerising about Daeyoung wrapped up in the blankets, glasses over his sleepy eyes, the sun just starting to shine through the window onto his face, his cute lips that you wanted to kiss so badly, imagining how soft they would feel early in the morning.

His hand shifted from your face, trailing down your arm until it reached your waist. From there, he pulled you closer to his body, trapping you there with his leg. There was nothing stopping you from kissing him now that the distance between you two was almost nonexistent. And, you were getting shier by the second under his eyes, so you were quick to press your lips to his instead.

Daeyoung gasped at your sudden action, but was quick to melt into the kiss, pulling you ever closer, heart warmed by his love for you. He made a mental note to wear glasses more often, quite liking the outcome of it despite having discovered it accidentally. 

Mornings like this were perfect, he decided. He knew the natural progression of a relationship was a delicate thing, but he was starting to wonder why he had never asked you to sleep over before this. He couldn’t even count how many mornings it would have saved him from missing your presence more than life. You felt the same way, finding the opportunity to wake up in Daeyoung’s arms too good to pass up again. 

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyujs,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities

[a-killer-obsession]

Killer with a so who's very insecure about her look (kinda like himself) ? 👀

Took a while to answer this one cos as soon as I saw it I knew I wanted to make a proper drabble from it, thank you for the sweet suggestion 💖

Beautiful [Killer x GN!Reader] - SFW

CW: fluff, kissin' 😳 WC: 1.2k

Masterlist || AO3

Killer had known how he felt about you for a while now. He was thankful for his mask, because it let him watch you whenever he pleased without you ever knowing. The way your whole face lit up and practically sparkled when you smiled made his heart swell with affection, and your laughter was like the most beautiful love song, it caressed him so tenderly and made him blush whenever he heard it. Despite knowing for certain his feelings for you, he said nothing, and likely would have continued that way indefinitely if Kid hadn't threatened to tell you himself. He was more than sick of hearing Killer's disgustingly sweet sighs when he talked about you, but with all his insecurities he refused to make a move unless it was under threat of being exposed by the captain himself. Kid gave him one week, one week to man up and tell you how he felt or Kid would do it his damn self.

Killer bided his time, pacing nervously and chickening out whenever he found you alone. It took Kid dragging him by the metal bar on his mask as though pulling him by the ear and practically throwing him towards you to get Killer to make a move. You stood on the secluded decking in the mouth of the dinosaur skull at the head of the ship, looking out serenely at the calm ocean. The full moon illuminated the waves and bounced back against you, illuminating you with ripples of light that danced over your skin. Killer's breath caught in his throat as he tried to summon the courage to speak to you, standing at the railing beside you, his mouth opening and shutting several times under the mask as he failed to find the words.

“It's beautiful out here tonight, isn't it?” Your eyes were practically twinkling as you spared him a glance before returning your gaze to the sea. His cheeks felt warm, no doubt flushed as they always were when you spoke to him.

“It's- it's not as beautiful as you,” he finally mustered the courage to get out.

Your mood changed so quickly he wondered if he had whiplash, your hands balling into fists, face red as you scowled at him. “Fuck you, Killer,” you spat, before storming off and slamming the door behind you.

Killer wasn't good with feelings, trying to tell you how he felt was entirely foreign to him, but he was sure he hadn't said the wrong thing. He stood there, completely perplexed, entirely lost as to how he'd managed to fuck this up so badly with a single sentence. Unable to find an answer on his own, he turned to his closest friends.

Sitting around his cabin with Kid, Heat and Wire, he explained what happened. Kid and Heat looked just as perplexed, but Wire, a man of knowledge and with the most dating experience of the four of them, seemed to have a clue.

“Kil, what would you do if I said you were beautiful?” He asked hypothetically.

“Deck you for lying straight to my face,” Killer growled back. Wire gave him a knowing look and Killer's expression changed from anger to confusion. “You don't think… did they think I didn't mean it?”

“I've known for a while that [Y/N] has some self esteem issues,” Wire sighed, “I even heard them joke once that they wished they had a mask too. I've no doubt they thought you were making fun of them”

“Oh god, what do I do?” Killer asked, practically begging the older man to save this situation. His heart couldn't bear thinking that he'd hurt you.

“Prove you meant it,” he shrugged, “show them you weren't just joking”

The next night Killer found you in the same place, staring out to the sea in the small secluded deck. He'd been trying to speak to you all day, but every time he approached you would flee from him, hurt plainly written on your face each time. He quickly closed the door behind him, standing against it so you had no escape route.

“Please don't run,” he stuttered out, “I just wanna talk to you, please”

“Why, so you can make fun of me again?” You spat.

“I wasn't trying to make fun of you,” he pleaded, approaching you cautiously, hands up to show he meant no harm, “I meant what I said. I think you're beautiful”

“You're a liar,” you huffed, “I'm not beautiful, please don't hurt me further by trying to convince me that I'm something I'm not”

Killer's heart ached to hear you say that. He had to convince you, regardless of if you liked him back or not, he needed you to know how beautiful you were. He summoned all his courage and reached for the latch on his mask. “I'll show you what it means to be ugly, so you can understand how far from it you are,” he stammered, shaking as he removed the mask and laid bare his face for you to see.

His sharp features glowed under the moonlight, his purple painted lips almost navy in the low light, his icy blue eyes glinting in the reflections from the waves. Scruffy bangs fell to his brows as the mask was removed, and your heart caught in your throat taking in his features for the first time. He waited nervously, watching your eyes scan his face, wide and curious, waiting for your inevitable rejection. He'd hoped he could at least establish a relationship with you before showing you his face, to give you a reason to stay before giving you a reason to leave. Doing it this way, he accepted you'd never want him, his heart tearing in two as he waited, but he'd accept the sacrifice he was making at his own expense if it meant you could understand how he saw you.

“Beautiful,” you finally whispered, a hand coming up to touch his face, tracing over his cheekbone and his lower lip. Your hands trembled as you touched him, and all of a sudden you understood. He felt the same way you did, he thought himself so hideous that he wore a mask to hide himself away, but the face before you was breathtaking, beautiful felt like too humble of a word. Is that how he saw you? You were so caught up in your self loathing that you hadn't taken a moment to consider the possibility that he meant it.

His mouth opened and closed, catching flies as he struggled to process the lack of rejection, and the sincere adoration that was written on your face as you took in every facet of his face, committing it to memory. The single word you'd uttered had been glided in gold, sliding off your tongue like honey and washing over him like healing waters, pulling the shattering parts of his heart back together and binding them. A tear prickled at the corner of his eye, and you stepped forward and kissed it away, before pressing your lips to his. He let out a soft sigh as you kissed him, returning the kiss with all the love and longing he felt, your soft lips so tender against his own, hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you. Not that he would go anywhere, he never wanted to be without you ever again.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Home (Is Wherever I'm With You)

Summary: You aren’t supposed to be in California for another week, but managed to tie up all your loose ends and arrive early. You get some unwanted attention when you try to surprise your husband at his favorite bar, and after he comes to your rescue, Bradley shows you just how much he missed you right there in the Hard Deck bathroom. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: unwanted flirting and advancements from men, language, fluff, smut. 

Word Count: 3.7K

Notes: In Part 7 of RYEWID, Bradley remembers how he and Pumpkin have hooked up in the Hard Deck bathroom before. Here’s the first time that happened.

Part of The Forgotten Moments collection I have going for them, though this can be read completely independently and still make sense. 

_____

You weren’t supposed to be in California for another week. The Navy hadn’t given Bradley much time at all before he was to report for permanent assignment at Top Gun. He had helped you as much as he could, but packing up and arranging for all of your belongings to be shipped across the country fell mostly on you. You didn’t mind; you had more loose ends to tie up than he did, anyway. But what you thought would take three weeks you managed to get done in two, and instead of telling your husband you’d be arriving early, you decided to surprise him. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to pull it off, but you did. 

It was a Friday evening and you knew he’d be coming to the Hard Deck. Nat was the only one in on your plans and had confirmed when you texted her earlier after your flight landed. You were nearly buzzing with excitement. You had only been married for four months, and between the deployment he was on prior to being called back to Top Gun and the mission that resulted in a permanent station here, you had barely seen each other for half of it. You couldn’t wait to be back in his arms. 

You sipped on your beer, perched on a stool at one of the high top tables near the bar that had a good view of the front door, but was far enough away that he wouldn’t spot you right away if he looked in this direction. You were so focused on looking for your husband that you failed to notice the man approaching until he was standing right in front of you, effectively blocking your view of the door. You startled slightly at the sudden appearance.

He was tall, blonde, and perhaps a little too pretty. He had a smirk on his face that you were sure was meant to be dazzling. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing sitting by herself?” 

There was a hint of a southern drawl in his voice that you were sure charmed women on a daily basis, but only made you raise your eyebrows. “Enjoying my drink.” 

“All alone?” he asked, “I bet it would taste better with someone here to keep you company.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the line, but you shook your head and held up your left hand without a word. Your rings sparkled from their spot snug on your finger. 

“Damn,” he sighed, his smirk falling slightly but never leaving. He put his hands up in mock surrender. “You can’t blame me for trying, right?” 

“Thank you, I think?” you laughed. 

“Definitely a compliment.” 

The blonde stranger winked at you, but to his credit, he didn’t push it any further. He bid you a good night and made his way over to the bar, presumingly ordering himself a drink. You watched him converse with another guy there for a moment, who cast a look at you, but you didn’t pay it any mind as your eyes turned back to the door. In the short time you had been distracted a large crowd had come in and you scanned the room for Bradley again. You bit your lip when you couldn’t find him anywhere, deflating slightly. You were so, so ready to see him. 

You were reaching for your phone to text a simple “where are you guys?” to Natasha when you were interrupted again. This time it’s from the darker haired man who the blonde from earlier had talked to at the bar. You glanced over quickly to see him shaking his head as he walked back toward the crowded pool tables. 

“Hi,” the newcomer said with a bright smile, leaning against the small round table. The stool you were sitting on had you just about even with his height. 

“Hello,” you responded, trying your best to be polite. “Didn’t your friend tell you I’m married?”

He looked momentarily surprised by your bluntness but recovered quickly, laughing lightly. “He did. But I see a ring, not a husband. Thought it might be worth shooting my shot anyway.”

“No,” you said with a forced smile, “it’s not. I’m actually waiting here for him, so.”

To your annoyance, he didn’t seem the slightest bit dettered. “Well how about I keep you company while you wait? My name is Neil.” 

“I’m good on my own, actually. He should be here any minute.” 

“Come on. At least give me your name.” He goes so far as to set his hand over yours on the table. You pulled it back quickly, feeling yourself getting angry at his persistence. You opened your mouth to tell him off, no longer interested in being polite, when you caught a flash of Hawaiian print in your peripheral vision. You gasped in surprised delight at the sight of your husband. You scrambled off the chair, pushing past the unwelcome suitor without a second thought as you raced to close the short remaining distance between the two of you. 

“Bradley!”

You launched yourself into his arms and he caught you easily, holding you tightly against him. You relished the feeling of being in his embrace again, laughing happily into his neck when he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. You only pulled back far enough to press your lips against his. He kissed you back eagerly, setting you down so he could cup your cheek with one hand, the other still firmly on your lower back, pressing your body into his. 

“Pumpkin,” he rasped, “what are you doing here, sweetheart?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, even as you beamed against his lips. “I wanted to surprise you.”

He hums, kissing you again. He tastes just the same and you chase it, wanting to refamiliarize yourself with it all over again. His body is warm against yours and the anxiety you had felt the last few weeks finally settled inside you. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, nudging your nose with his and causing another giggle to escape. 

“I missed you too, baby.”

You were grinning broadly when you pulled away, and Bradley was too, until his eyes strayed behind you. You watched them narrow and he stood a little straighter, his hand falling from your face. You looked over your shoulder; you had completely forgotten about the man standing by your table. He was still there, looking gobsmacked as he stared at your husband. 

You resisted the urge to comment on how you had told him he would be there any minute. Instead you looked back up at Bradley. He had an intense look on his face, one you had only seen a few times before. Despite yourself, you shivered lightly. 

“You trying to hit on my wife, Omaha?” 

Your eyebrows raised at the name. It wasn’t as familiar to you as others, but it was one you had heard before nonetheless. Another Top Gun graduate who had been called back and then restationed. 

“I…didn’t know she was your wife,” he stuttered. 

“But you knew she was married.”

The other aviator looked a little panicked now, his eyes widening even further. “Rooster, I swear, if I would have known-“

“It doesn’t matter whose wife she is. If she tells you she’s married or not interested, you take that as your cue to leave.” 

Omaha looked like he was contemplating saying something, but instead, he gave a single nod. He met your eyes briefly, offering a quick apology under his breath. You felt Bradley’s grip on you tighten when he walked around you, even if he made a point to not get close. 

You looked up at him when Omaha was gone. His jaw ticked in annoyance, but when you settled a hand over his heart and murmured his name, you could feel how his body relaxed. He met your eyes again. He opened his mouth, you were sure to apologize for something he had no reason to be sorry for, so you cut him off with another kiss. The last of the tension left him and he wrapped both arms around you. 

You stand there with him for a long moment, kissing and enjoying his body against yours. You never felt as good as you did when you were with him, especially when you were in his arms. 

When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless, but the soft smile that was always just for you was back on his face. 

“Come on,” he said, “let me introduce you to everyone.” 

“That sounds great,” you said back, grabbing your abandoned purse and drink from where you had left them at your table. You raised up on your toes and pressed another kiss to his cheek. You speak directly into his ear, enjoying the tremor that went through him this time.  “The quicker you introduce me, the quicker you can take me to bed.” 

You smacked his ass playfully as you skipped ahead of him. You laughed when you heard his exaggerated groan. He caught up with you quickly, grabbing your hand in his. He leaned down to whisper, “Since when do we need a bed, Pumpkin?” 

You gasped and he smirked, tugging you forward to the group who had been eyeing you curiously. 

Phoenix is the first to greet you, wrapping you in a quick hug. You hadn’t seen her in over a month, and you were so glad you would have her here permanently, too. He introduced you to everyone gathered around the pool table, and it’s nice finally putting names to faces. When you get to the last person, you can’t help but snort at the familiar face. 

“I think you already met Hangman,” Bradley introduced him with a roll of his eyes. The man in question didn’t look the least bit ashamed, smirking as he held out his hand to you. Instead of shaking it like everyone else had done, he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles. You laughed at the sheer audacity he had, but you could tell he was harmless. From what you know of him from the stories you’ve heard lately, it was purely a move to get under your husband’s skin. You heard the man in question let out an annoyed huff and knew it was working, too. 

“Pleasure to formally meet you. If I would have known Rooster was the bird in question who put that ring on your finger, I would have introduced myself sooner.” 

“Instead you came over here and complained about the bombshell at the bar being married,” your husband muttered, pulling you tighter into his side. 

“Got your attention that someone else didn’t care about that little fact though, didn’t I?” Hangman quipped back. Bradley rolled his eyes again, but tipped the beer he had been handed in his direction anyway. You giggled at the interaction, prompting him to look down at you. You stood on your toes to kiss his mouth before turning back to the group with a smile. 

“So,” you said, “who has good stories about my husband that he’d never tell me himself?” 

Bradley groaned as the others laughed, and it wasn’t long before you were drawn into conversation with the people you knew he considered his friends, whether he’d admit it or not. You already felt more comfortable with them than you had any of the coworkers of his that you had met in DC, which made some of your nerves dissipate. As you were regaled with story after story, some more embarrassing than others, Bradley was a constant presence at your back. You relished being able to lean back into his chest after weeks of not being able to do so. His hands settled on your hips, toying with the waistband of your skirt. It was one of his favorites and you had put it on with that in mind. 

You spent close to an hour swapping stories and getting to know everyone. They seemed genuinely interested in you as well, not just because of your status of “Rooster’s wife”, but of who you were on your own. You had been nervous about moving to San Diego, though you hadn’t hesitated for a second the minute he brought it up to you; being around all of these people already had you feeling more confident. 

So, of course, did the man behind you. 

Bradley hadn’t strayed from you since he had first laid eyes on you that night. You felt a thrill knowing that he missed you as much as you had missed him. His love and dedication would never be something you would get tired of. Titling your head back once Javy and Bob wandered over to join the game of pool happening, leaving you and Bradley as alone as you had been that night, you smiled up at him. His lips quirked into that soft smile that you adored and when you pucker your lips, he was capturing them with his in an instant.

“I missed you,” you whispered, fingers toying with the buttons on his open shirt. 

“I missed you,” Bradley returned easily. His fingertips dipped under the waistband of your skirt for the faintest moments and you shivered. You simply stared at one another for several long moments, saying so much without saying anything at all. You felt heat spreading through your body the longer your eyes remained locked and when you drew your bottom lip between your teeth, Bradley groaned lowly before leaning down and pressing a featherlight kiss against your cheek. 

“Do you trust me?” he whispered in your ear. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin because you knew what those words meant when he had that look in his eye and the electricity between you was sparking like it was now. 

“Yes,” you breathed, no hesitation in your decision. With a quick look to make sure his friends were all still distracted, he was taking your hand and leading you away and toward the other side of the bar. You could see the sign for the bathroom hanging overhead and your heart started to race even faster. 

You stumbled into the single stall restroom, hands already at his belt. Bradley pressed you up against the door as soon as he locked it, rucking your skirt up and his mouth against yours. 

“Fucking so glad you’re here,” he mumbled into the kiss. “God, Pumpkin.” 

You gasped out his name as he trailed kisses to your neck, sucking at the skin harshly. You fumbled with the button and zip of his jeans, fighting to keep focused on getting them undone as Bradley pressed down on your clit through your underwear. You knew he could feel how wet you were for him; the material had to be soaked through by now. His hips thrusted forward at their own accord when you finally freed him from the confines of the denim that had been keeping him from you. He moaned into your neck as you stroked him. 

Bradley spun the two of you away from the door and hoisted you up onto the counter by the sink.  Your skirt was pushed up above your waist and he nearly ripped your panties in his haste to get them off of you. You barely felt the cool breeze of the bar’s AC hit your exposed pussy before he was pulling you to the very edge of the counter and rubbing his hard cock through your folds, coating himself. You steadied yourself with a hand behind you as the other fisted into the curls at the back of his head.

“I need you inside of me,” you moaned. “Please, baby. Please, please, please.” 

“So desperate for me,” he rasped. He didn’t give you a chance to confirm or deny before he was sliding into you. He muffled your scream of pleasure with a hand over your mouth. His dark eyes were trained on yours and you gave a jerky nod to his silent question. He pulled out of you almost completely before roughly thrusting back in. You moaned against his palm. He repeated the sequence twice more before he let his hand fall. The bar was loud outside the locked bathroom and he was trusting you not to draw attention that would give the two of you away, even though anyone who saw you coming back here had to know what was happening. 

“Gonna be quick,” he warned, voice deeper than it had been all night. You felt a whole new wave of arousal flood through you at the tone and clenched around him. 

“I don’t care,” you assured, whimpering when he slammed back into you again. “Take me, Bradley.” 

He growled out your name, and with a firm grip on your hips, truly started fucking you. 

He drove into you over and over again and the sound of your wet pussy sucking him in was echoing throughout the small bathroom. Your body shook with every thrust and from your position on the edge of the counter, you couldn’t do much more than sit there and let him have his way with you.

“Feel so good,” he grunted, “always so damn good.” 

The vein in his neck was throbbing below his skin. You couldn’t resist leaning forward and licking it. His hips jerked at the sensation and you cried out as he hit that spot inside of you that had you tightening your grip in his hair. 

“Bradley!” 

“Touch yourself for me, baby. Come on.” 

You knew he wouldn’t let you fall, so with the hand that had been braced on the counter, you fumbled past the bunched material of your skirt to get to your pussy. Your fingers brushed over him as he thrusted into you and you nearly cried at how good it felt. 

You rubbed quick, rough circles into your clit as your orgasm rapidly approached. It didn’t take long for you to get there. Between the feel of him inside of you and the dirty words he was whispering into your ear, you broke. This time, Bradley swallowed your scream by pressing his mouth against yours. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation. You arched your back, a desperate attempt to bring him even closer. 

It only took a handful more powerful thrusts before Bradley’s own release was triggered. His hips slammed flush against yours and he grunted into your mouth. His cock twitched deliciously inside of you as his cum painted your walls and filled you up. You clenched around him to try and milk as much of it as you could. 

You broke the kiss when breathing became an issue. Both of you were panting as he laid his forehead against yours. Your chests heaved as you caught your breaths. 

You couldn’t allow yourselves too much time in the afterglow, mindful of the fact you were in a locked bar bathroom, so after too short of a moment, Bradley kissed your forehead and slowly withdrew from you. You instantly felt so empty, even with his cum still inside of you. You were both quiet as he pulled paper towels from the dispenser and gently cleaned you up. Your panties were on the bathroom floor and you scrunched your nose at the thought of putting them back on. Bradley scooped them up, stuffing them in his pocket before you could even voice your distaste. 

You should have known he would have done that regardless. 

He gripped your hips once again to lift you off of the counter and onto your feet. Your skirt fell back into place, albeit more wrinkled than it was before you entered the bathroom. You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much. 

You let your arms come up to wrap around his neck as his settled on your lower back. 

“I was planning on taking my time with you when you got here, to show how much I missed you,” he said. You chuckled lightly. 

“Who says you can’t still do that later?” 

Bradley’s groan was playful and full of affection. “How about we get on that now? I think we’ve stayed long enough.” 

“Baby,” you laughed, squealing quietly when he purposefully rubbed his mustache against your cheek. 

“C’mon, Pumpk. Let me take you home,” he begged. 

“Don’t you mean the temporary lodgings the US Navy is providing us until we close on a house?” 

“Semantics,” he whispered before pecking your lips once, and then twice. You hummed against your lips, smiling happily. It didn’t matter if you were in base housing, a hotel room, or even the backseat of the Bronco. Anywhere with Bradley felt like home to you. 

“One more drink,” you conceded, holding up a finger for emphasis. “Then I’m all yours.” 

“Deal,” he said immediately, sealing it with one more kiss. He made sure both of your clothing was back in order before he laced his fingers with yours and unlocked the bathroom door. The two of you were still laughing together, but it cut off abruptly once he opened it. Jake and Nat were both leaning against the wall across from the door, arms folded over their chests and eyebrows raised. 

“So,” Jake drawled out, “is it the honeymoon phase, or can we expect this all the time?” 

Nat snickered quietly as a blush crept its way up Bradley’s neck. He fumbled for a response, but you cleared your throat, giving the two of them an easy smile. “Only time will tell, I suppose.” 

Nat’s snicker turned into a full on laugh, and Jake looked at you impressed before letting out a chuckle himself as the two of them walked back down the hallway toward the noise of the bar. You followed behind them at a slower pace. When Bradley squeezed your hand and pressed a kiss into your hair, you looked up at him. His eyes twinkled and he had that soft, soft smile on his face again. 

“I love you, Pumpkin. I’m so happy you’re here.” 

“I love you, too, Bradley. I’m so happy to be home.” 

-------

End Notes: I hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback. Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world and are so encouraging💚

Special thanks to @mak-32 for spurring the idea and for her and @roosterforme for everything, as always.

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[newtsniffles]

It Is Always Him | Daemon Targaryen

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: You could not help but to worry about your uncle who was currently fighting a war, because it was him. It was always him.

Warning/s: Not proof read, other than that, just some fluff I suppose? Daemon being caring?

Word count: 1.8k

You had always loved the dawn. The rise of the sun in King’s Landing always casted a fiery hue over the once starlit sky. From The Red Keep, you had one of the best views in what you would say in all of Westeros. The same heated colours would cast their reflections onto The Narrow Sea, and your lilac irises would take the sight in like a child would with a table full of sweets. Always, since the first name day you could remember, you would wake and gaze out the windows of your bed chambers. Even if it meant you to be left tired and in need of an afternoon nap when the sun reached the peak. However, these days you found yourself staring out to the horizon more often than usual. In the dawn, throughout the day as the sun flew overhead, when the day turned to dusk, and out to the stars on many sleepless nights. Was nobody worried for your uncle but you? Did anybody else care that he could die at war?

The second child of King Viserys and his late wife, Aemma, you were ignored as another daughter. Rhaenyra was ‘The Realm’s Delight,’ the first born by mere hours, but you? You were just another failed attempt at a son. Sometimes you wondered, if you had of been born even a few moments before your dear sister, would it be different? Your uncle, Daemon, was the only person you could ever say was really ‘there’ for you. Yes, he tended to disappear for a while every now and then or get exiled only to be back a few turns of the moon later. But it was him who understood you. It was him who knew the feeling of being outcasted by his family, to be alone yet surrounded by the living and breathing. For it was him who chose the dragon egg that laid in your cradle with you as a babe. It was him who helped you to name the large, black-scaled phantom. A name your beloved dragon, Daerys, had earnt for herself as she blended into the night sky, invisible to the eyes of people below. It was Daemon that taught you as a child to speak High Valyrian. It was Daemon that showed you a few tricks in protecting yourself. It was Daemon who—It was always, Daemon.

Since you had heard of the war, you would stare out to the sky in hopes of seeing Caraxes swooping his way to the dragon pit with your uncle on his back. It has been two years, and you have yet to see what you desire. You had begged your father with each turn of sun to moon that he would send help for Daemon. After two full turns of the seasons, he did, but never was it for you.

The sight of a Targaryen ship in the distance drew you from your thoughts. Ah, Rhaenyra must be returning from her tour to find a suitable husband. That was one thing that you never found yourself jealous of. Father had recommended to you that you get married as well, but it was less of a rush as you were not set to inherit the throne. You could not tell how long you had been staring at the ship before a piercing roar had echoed through the never-ending skies. You need not a moment to realise the sound of Caraxes, nor do you need a mere second as his red, snake-like body tore through the sky. The question you were asking yourself was only this: was your uncle on the back of The Blood Wyrm? If so, was he injured, was he even alive? Or did the dragon carry his bloodstained body?

“Kepus—” uncle. You rushed out the doors of your chambers. Nimble feet made their way to the throne room without a second thought as the whispers of servants echoed around the halls. You stood to the right, looking across on tipped toes to your sister who stood across the way. She was always kind to you, you loved her dearly, and she was aware of the affection you held for your uncle. With a nod of her head, a breath you had not realised you had been holding left your lips. He was alive.

It was when he turned the corner and walked proudly with his chest puffed that you finally felt the tension leave your body. You had barely listened to a thing he said to your father, too busy thanking the Gods for his safe return. As the two embraced, and appeared as brothers for once in their lives, a small smile had graced your face. For this was the best thing that could happen, perhaps your father would let him stay here instead of exiling him for going against orders again. Perhaps, with this win under his belt, your father would now care less of your affections for Daemon, and let you spend your leisure time with him freely.

“We shall throw festivities to honour your valiant effort and victory, brother.”

You had never been one for these sorts of gatherings, or well… gatherings in general. There was no point in being at them, only to be disregarded, ignored, alone. But this was to celebrate Daemon’s victory. And you had hope that he would seek you out to talk, that he would embrace you so you could hear the beating of his heart, further confirming for you that he is alive and well. Leaning against a stone pillar, you watched onwards as he was mid-discussion with your father, Alicent, and Rhaenyra. You could go over there, but you would rather stay where you are. Not a fan of Alicent, or your father for a fact, considering he was no fan of yours. You wondered if Daemon had thought about you at all in his years away. If he had missed, you as much as you did him. It was when he gazed up at you through lightly coloured brows from a distance that you knew he had thought of you, at least once. His purple eyes always told what his words could not. And his eyes in this very moment told you that he too, did not wish for these festivities, that he too would rather be in your company and your company alone.

“Excuse me,” Daemon gave a nod to his brother before beginning the short walk away from the festivities to you. As he moved closer, you took note of his features. He had not changed much, and you were grateful that no scars were visible for it would pain you greatly to know he was once hurt. His hair had been cut short, a strand fell over his forehead, and you noted that it suited him well. “Issi ao daor emare kirimves, ñuha dōna niece?” Are you not having fun, my sweet niece? Daemon came to a stop, barely half a metre away from his niece.

“Ao gīmigon īlen dōrī really mēre syt these ra, kepus.” You know I was never really one for these things, uncle.

“Nor iksin nyke.’ nor am I.

“I thought you would be enjoying this. It is for your victory after all,” you gazed up at him playfully, for he was far taller than you. “Perhaps now, father might leave you alone.”

“I think we both know that not possible,” he smirked down at you. A few moments passed of you only looking at each other. But it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable.

“I missed you,” you couldn’t help but admit. “I begged father everyday to send help. But I hear that in the end, you did not need it.” Daemon glances to the side before reaching forward to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“You need not worry about me, dōna riña,” sweet girl. He smiles softly, a smile reserved for you only. The names he called you never failed to leave you flustered. “Were you treated well while I was away?”

“The same as usual. I tend to be left to keep to myself,” you sigh. “Rhaenyra has been busy with heir duties, despite her wishes. I don’t believe I have had a proper conversation with someone in many turns of the moon. It has been lonely.” Daemon’s purple eyes stare into the lilac of your own.

“Iksā daor mērī, dōrī mērī,” you are not alone, never alone. Daemon whispered in their native tongue for only them to understand.

“Skorkydoso would ao gīmigon? emā daor issare kesīr,” how would you know? You have not been here. You tried desperately to push away the tears that threaten to fall like a wounded soldier in battle. Daemon grabs your hand, with a quick glance over his shoulder, he pulls you around the corner and away from any prying eyes. Hand moving to settle on your cheek, thumb grazing a lone tear.

“Īlen mijegon iā iderennon. Nyke would dōrī henujagon ao mērī ondoso iderennon.” I was without a choice. I would never leave you alone by choice. “Viserys is weak. Lo nyke gōntan daor jikagon naejot vīlībāzma, īlon mirre would botagon,” If I did not go to war, we all would suffer.

“I know,” you sighed. Your arms wrap around his torso, head moving to nuzzle into his chest. His own arms move, one around your shoulders, the other hand cradles your head. “I was scared that you would not return.”

“But I did,” his hand runs across your white hair before pulling back to place them both on your cheeks, bringing your head out from his chest. In his eyes, you could see a man that has been to war, a man that has faced death, and been the death of many men. And yet in his presence, you weren’t sure it possible that you could feel any safer. And as you gazed into his eyes, you didn’t know if it was boldness or weakness, but you leant forward and placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Daemon closed his eyes and rested his forehead against your own

“īlon jorrāelagon naejot jikagon aril,” we need to go back.

“Gaomagon īlon?” Do we? Daemon whispered. His thumb moved to run along your lower lip before he passionately connected them with his own. Your back pushes against the wall behind you in his fervour. Your arms move around his neck, fingers toying with the hair on the back of his neck.

“People could see,” you whisper as his lips follow along your jaw and down to your neck.

“Let them,” Daemon presses one last kiss to your temple. “Ivestragī zirȳ gīmigon iksā ñuhon, dōna jorrāelagon. Iksā protected ondoso nyke.” Let them know you are mine, sweet love. You are protected by me. His. Yes, that sounds as it should. It is always him. It is always, Daemon.

-

enjoy my work? consider tipping me for a kofi

[rolling-storm-writing]

Can you please write Týr x Kratos??? It can be headcanons of fluff, smut, or both!!! Just write whatever comes to mind!!! I'll be thankful with anything you write for me!!! 😊💖💖💖

Tyr/Kratos- Headcanons

warnings; NSFW

Two words… SLOW BURN, first and foremost both are still deeply hurt and grieving.  Tyr is fresh from being imprisoned and Kratos still reeling after Ragnarok.

Kratos is quite weary of the former god as he brings Mimir to speak with him.  If anything the two don’t truly interact without outside help. 

Awkward to the outside eye as they sit in an ominous silence around a camp fire.

The two find common ground when it comes to god hood and what it means.  Learning from one another and finding solace in their differences and similarities.

Their relationship is a very slow but meaningful one in my opinion.

Occasional trips to other realms or taking time to hunt together.  Quiet storytelling or quick “hello’s” when in passing.

There is no big gesture or ask the two simply just fall into place at each other’s side.

Tyr is the more openly romantic one of the two with physical touch and words of affirmation being big things for him.  

After being locked away for so long tho he’s very hesitant about opening up to another.

Kratos doesn’t mind and often finds the gentle touches and closeness to be perfect.  More meaningful than some swooning kiss could ever be.

“May I?” Would come his lover’s quiet voice as they walked together.  And without fail Kratos would offer his hand to him.

Tyr’s larger one wrapped ever so delicately around his own as they continued on their walk.

One thing about this pair is communication and proper boundaries are a must.  Very tentative and careful with one another no matter the occasion.

“Is this alright?” Kratos would mutter running his fingers through the giant’s soft hair.  A soft hum of approval and he’d continue on twirling the soft locs through his fingers.

And in the morning when those larger hands massaged at Kratos’ waist, and soft lips pressed against his shoulder all it took was quiet “continue” and they’d be all over each other.

On his back Kratos looked through hooded lids as Tyr loomed over him.  Legs spread wide and held up at his lover sunk deeper into him.

“So beautiful…” watching as his cock nestled deeper inside, kratos’ hole speared and puffy with glistening silk with every filling inch.

Tyr is so much bigger and it drives the both of them mad with lust.  Kratos is a pillow princess and Tyr’s only cowgirl and the god can’t get enough.

Losing himself as he plows into the smaller man with each bed rattling thrusts. hands on his hips, pulling Kratos back and pushing into him over and over. 

Kratos isn’t a loud man but with Tyr he’s a growling mess.  Low moans filling the room to mingle with slapping skin and creaking bed frame.

These two have so much stamina it’s almost unreal how long they can go.  “So good for me…” Tyr would whisper finally as he buried his cock fully, Kratos holding onto with dear life as he was folded like a pretzel.

cum dripping from his hole as and down his thighs. Eyes rolled to the back of his skull choking on a breathless moan as he too reached a mind numbing climax.

Tyr is very much a service top and lives to make sure his love is satisfied.  Slowly pulling out and peppering Kratos with soft kisses.  Lips pressed together in a soft kiss as hands grasp and caress the other.

Aftercare and just taking care of one another is simply a must as well.  Relaxing in the bath some time later or cuddling up after a previously prepared meal.

These two are honesty just goals in my eyes.  Very sweet and slow in a way that’s just perfect…

——————————————————————-

A/N; WELL I finally wrote something!! Honestly I really do like this ship and maybe I’ll write more for em.

If y’all have any other suggestions feel free to let me know ! And don’t forget your umbrella<3

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Just one more picture💫

✨Pairing: theater kid!Yeosang x theater kid!gn!reader ✨Prompt: You're not playing the romantic leads but everyone ships your characters together and they keep making you take pictures together in costumes. ✨Word count: 1.8k ✨Genre: fluff, slight romance ☀️Authors note: Let me know what you thought of this one shot❣️ The play I'm referencing in this one shot for anyone wondering is Shakespeares Twelfth Night🥰

Ever since the first read through of the play, everyone involved decided that your character and Yeosangs character were absolutely made for each other. You couldn't really wrap your head around why everyone was so adamantly shipping your two characters together, when there was barely any interactions between the two that indicated they were romantically interested in each other.

Sometimes during run throughs of scenes your fellow cast mates would be taking pictures and talking about how genuine the love between the two of your characters, Malvolio and Maria, are. Even if Malvolio spends a good time in the play talking about how he wants to marry Miss Olivia after your character Maria, Sir Toby and Sir Andrew trick him into thinking Miss Olivia is in love with him.

Despite that, your director decided that she wanted to go in a slightly different route for Maria and Malvolio stating that the two of them were in love but did not dare to confess and Malvolio especially tries to hide his love for Maria by acting as if hes actually in love with the misstress they both serve. With longing stares and some gentle hand holding here and there to a catch when your character trips as she's in a hurry.

All of this never failed to make you blush, Yeosang was a beautiful man who was kind and passionate in everything he did. Your favorite thing about him was when he smiled, especially if it was directed towards you. It made your heart flutter and your cheeks grow slightly hot.

"Okay everyone! Gather up please!! Today were gonna take some pictures of this run through which means that you'll be photographed, this is so we have some work in progress photos to post on social media and to find some really good moments we want to have pictures of when we do our dress rehearsal next week!" Your director, Annelise, shouted as everyone gathered closer. "I want you all to give it your all during this run as you would in the dress rehearsal and when we have an audience watching. Give me passion, comdey, betrayal and all of that."

You could already feel some of the eyes on you at the thought of having pictures taken. As you were wondering what Yeosang might think of it all you could suddenly feel his presence behind you, his hand landing on your shoulder gently turning you slightly towards him.

"Let's do our best so we get some nice photos okay?" His gentle smile aimed towards you made you nod.

"We should, but don't forget to have fun you know, that's when the magic happens on stage." Yeosang was about to respond to your comment when Annelise called for everyone in positions for the run through. As you had predicted there were a lot of pictures taken of you and Yeosang. And you had to admit, in some of them the two of you looked really good together.

"We look good together." Yeosang hummed as he looked at the photo of him holding you close so you did not trip in the scene. It made you look at him in surprise, you were going to ask him if he really meant that but he was already walking away to get his bottle of water and go home for the day.

-next week during dress rehearsal-

If people had gone wild about you and Yeosang during last week's rehearsal it was nothing compared to now when you both were in costume. Yeosang was in a nice costume, looking prim and proper and you were in an equally prim and proper costume. Yours were slightly more flowy than Yeosangs, the costume department wanted the distinction and said it would go nicely with when he catches you.

What you had not expected was everyone in the cast to come hounding you with their phones and cameras telling you two to pose as they took pictures. Yeosang for some reason seemed to really enjoy it as he posed with you, you thought it would be awkward and in a way it was awkward but the way Yeosang posed with you it helped ease your nerves.

"Come here, let's do one last pose to make them satisfied love." You looked at Yeosang in slight shock at his words as his arm came close around your waist bringing you in close as his other hand went up to caress your cheek as he leaned in closely. In surprise you had brought one hand up to his shoulder and the other gently gripping his bicep of the arm that were cradling your face oh so gently.

"Yeosang..."

"Yes?" He tilted his head slightly at your question as the rest of the cast fawned and squealed over Malvolio and Maria, talking about how they were such a great pair and the pose was just chefs kiss for those two characters. After a few more photos everyone were satisfied walking away leaving the two of you alone.

"You were going to ask me something weren't you y/n?" He asked you curiously.

"Well... It's just that... You know I can't help but wonder if it's just our characters they ship or if they're shipping us two as well. Especially with the way they're acting and taking pictures of us." You confessed feeling the heat return slightly to your face as you kept eye contact with Yeosang.

"Well I sure hope they do." He said it so casually you almost chocked on the water you were drinking to calm your nerves.

"W-what?!"

"Yeah I sure hope they ship us both together as well."

"Are you serious right now Yeosang?!" He let out a chuckle at the way your mouth was hanging open in slight shock at his confession.

"I am. I do really like you y/n." You couldn't believe your ears, here was the guy you had liked for a really long time confessing he liked you as well and hoped that the others shipped you two together as well.

"I really like you as well!" you blurted out before he could say anything else and the smile that blossomed even wider on his face was to die for.

"So would I be able to take you out for a date after our first show then?" He held your hand gently as he asked the question, his own cheeks flushing.

"I'd love that Yeosang."

-First show day-

"Y/n! Yeosang! Can you two come here for a second?" Annelise asked causing the two of you to break away from your conversation about where your first date should be at.

"Sure, what's up?" You asked looking at her curiously.

"I would like to add an extra scene in the end after everything where Malvolio and Maria confesses to each other and shares a kiss if that is okay with the two of you? I have an idea of how it would look if you are up for it? I know it's very last minute so it is totally okay if you say no." Annelise looked at you both with hopeful eyes and when you turned to look at Yeosang he was already looking at you.

"I am fine with it if y/n is comfortable with it." He nodded confirming he was okay with an additional scene and a kiss between the two of you.

"So am I."

"Great! So, I was thinking the two of you..." As the two of you quickly rehearsed what Annelise had envisioned to get the blocking down it was soon time for the premier. You could all hear the audience bustling behind the curtains and the nerves were starting to kick in. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as the lights turned down and the audience went silent as the drapes opened up allowing the show to start.

The audience were amazing, they were laughing, making comments and going wild during certain scenes, you and Yeosang got quiet a few cheers and whoops and someone even calling for Yeosangs character to kiss yours when he caught you from tripping. It was nearing the end. Soon time for you and Yeosang to go up one last time.

"Are you nervous?" You glanced as Yeosang who was next to you waiting for his own cue.

"A little bit. Are you?" He took your hand in his and squeezed it. If it were to calm you or him down you didn't know.

"I've been calm since after our first scene but now the nerves are kicking in again." You admitted and he nodded at your words.

"Let's just go in there and pretend it's just you and me. No one else."

You were about to respond but the moment you heard your cue you walked in on stage, looking around almost worried you had missed him. As you sat down dejectedly on a chair Yeosang ran in breathing heavily looking like he had ran around the entire palace in search for something, or someone.

"Maria."

You looked up in shock and stood up in surprise.

"Malvolio!"

Yeosang ran up to you bringing you in for a hug, hands trembling slightly and you hugged him as if he were going to disappear. You swore you could hear someone in the audience saying quietly "they better kiss now." as Yeosang brought his trembling hands up to hold your face oh so gently, caressing your cheeks as his once stoic character looked at you with love and kindness.

"I am so sorry for the way I've treated you my love. I was afraid you did not feel the same way. My heart beats only for you. I feel weak in the knees when you are not near me, I feel jealousy beating in my heart and clouding my mind when you laugh around Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. I was foolish to hide what I felt for you. I love you Maria, more than anything in this whole wide world." Yeosang was looking at you so intently and so loving you had to break eye contact with him.

"Oh I am so glad you found me my dear. I love you Malvolio, there is no one else I'd want to spend the rest of my life with than you." you confessed with a sweet smile and that's when Yeosang dove in kissing you passionately as the crowd erupted in cheers with someone shouting "finally!!" as the curtains closed on the two of you.

"I love you y/n." He whispered quietly into the kiss.

"I love you too Yeosang." You replied before giving him one last kiss as the rest of the cast joined up with you to take your bows as the curtains opened once again to the cheering audience.