#the catch here is that i only like it if will is super dedicated to his relationship with nico 24/7 but nico is still very much only

[ladynicte]

I lied, there is one sole flavour of Solangelo I do kinda like, which is Will Solace just being a complete total simp for Nico.

Like, 24/7 complete and utter devotion to Nico, straight up, Will could catch Nico washing the blood of his jacket after he murdered a person, and Will would only pay attention to how attractive Nico looks while bathed in blood, and to absolutely nothing else.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).

However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.

She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.

And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?

Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.

So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.

Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:

It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.

Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:

Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.

And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:

That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.

It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone

So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.

Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.

But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.

And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.

Izutsumi...

is a foil to Falin.

Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.

Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.

And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.

In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.

She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.

[eats-the-stars]

love my coworkers but i’m convinced that 1-3 of them could possibly be part fish, maybe even some kind of freshwater mer-guy(s) because how else can three guys spend an entire 8-hour shift talking about fishing conditions. they were talking about the rain, the mud at the bottom of the lake, fish anatomy that was completely foreign to me, their latest fishing blunders/successes, one involving failure to catch a snapper, something about hiding treats IN the lake, no idea if they meant for fish feeding or their own consumption or how the hell that works, and then some complaints about other fishermen/fishmen in their favorite fishing places/potential living spaces.

[tarisbackyard]

Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

[juniperdugong]

Relationship Quirks 97s ver.

Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||

The8 Wears your favorite color

Now this one is truly an unconscious thing that Hao does. You mention your favorite color one day during a random conversation and he doesn't do much with it... until the color starts becoming more eye-catching.

Suddenly more and more of his wardrobe is taken over by your favorite color; Not in a way that cramps his personal style but in a way that adds to it, of course. And even when he isn't wearing clothing that's your favorite color then his nails will definitely have sort of accent in or completely be (insert fav color here).

It's funny because he vehemently refuses to believe that's what's happening. If anyone, especially you, brings up how often he wears that color then he will scoff; Something about "no one being able to shake his personal preferences" or something like that.

"Been liking purple a lot lately, huh?" "No, I haven't." "But your nails are purple, your beanie is purple, and your cardi-" "Maybe, It just fits with my current style???" *Rolls his eyes and then buys a belt he's been "eyeing for ages"... just so happens to be purple*

DK Brings you up in every conversation

This sweet summer child~! (He's older than me) You would never in the world have to be jealous when with this man. Because chances are if he's talking to someone and it looks like anything interesting is happening AT ALL he's probably talking about you. Honestly, his dedication to talking about you might make people think he's obsessed (...he is) Maybe people would be even more interested in him because of that though... Call me crazy but dedication is sexy!

Either way, you're the only person in his sight and he swears it up and down. Doesn't leave any room for doubt either! The boys and your mutual friends are constantly telling you how appalled they are at how sweetly Kyeom talks about you when you aren't there. You're at the forefront of most of his conversation when you're with him, you can't imagine it being worse when you aren't around, but apparently, you are DEAD WRONG.

Seeing a pair of shoes can turn into a rant about what pairs of shoes you like. Ice cream flavors remind him of the time that you got ice cream for him when he was feeling sad and he just has to tell the guys about it. A talk with his manager about his recent health suddenly takes a turn and now he's sobbing talking about how much you take care of him. It's all you you you~

Mingyu Has to hold your hand

So we all know that Gyu is the biggest cuddler of all time, there's no doubt that he isn't clinging to your side when you're around. But hand-holding is different, Gyu can stand to not be hugging you 24/7... as long as you're holding his hand.

Claims that it feels like he's missing a piece of himself when he lets go, and also claims that you practically disappear if you aren't holding his hand, endless sulking. (Dramatic ass) And why can I vividly see him holding YOUR hand while clinging to the members??? Like he'll be swaying your arms back and forth while LITERALLY HOLDING WONWOO BY THE WAIST & BACKHUGGING HIM!!! Then has the audacity to be offended when you let go.

Also, has to hold your hand to sleep. He would love to cuddle! And he often does!... For like 10mins before this human space-heater gets too sweaty and has to move to the opposite side of the bed. Holding your hand in his sleep is a good compromise though, of course until you're letting go to use the restroom. (Deffo the type to follow you to pee, sits on the sink too)

A/N: I ain't even gonna lie... all of these headcanons could have been turned into full fics. I went insane imagining these habits, the 97s have been killing it in terms of looks and popularity lately. On a real note though, FUCK PLEDIS! PROTECT THE BOYS! Still so fucking pissed about what they let happen to Mingyu and TWS. Calming down... Comments and Reblogs are like super fuel for my writing and are much-appreciated lovelies!

TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love

word count: 6.1k+

warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.

Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?

You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.

Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.

“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.

“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”

“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.

“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”

Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?

Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.

D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.

Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.

It’s odd how little he knows.

“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.

“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”

Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.

“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.

“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.

“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“

“Heh, that’s a lie.”

“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.

“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”

“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”

“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”

“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.

Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”

“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.

“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"

“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.

“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”

“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”

Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.

“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.

As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.

“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”

“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.

“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.

“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”

Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.

“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”

“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.

“Platonically, yes.”

“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.

So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?

He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.

Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.

"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.

Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."

Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."

"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.

Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”

“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.

"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.

"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.

Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.

As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.

Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.

All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.

Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.

Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.

But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.

"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.

Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"

You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."

He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."

You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.

"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.

You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."

"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."

"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."

"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."

"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."

Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.

"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"

For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.

In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.

As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.

With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.

Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"

Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.

"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"

Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.

"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."

Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.

So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.

No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.

"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."

If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.

"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."

Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"

He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.

"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."

Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"

"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"

"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"

She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."

"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."

Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.

"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"

"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."

"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"

"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"

He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."

"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."

"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"

"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."

"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."

"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."

"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."

Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."

"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."

"Do we have a name yet?"

"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."

"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.

"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."

"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."

Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.

When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.

"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"

"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."

He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.

"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."

"Rough morning?"

"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."

"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."

"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."

He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."

"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."

"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."

"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."

Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.

"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."

"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.

"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."

"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?

"I-"

"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."

"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.

You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.

After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."

Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."

You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."

"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.

Yeah, he likes you just enough.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[trulyhblue]

Baby England (Part Three)

Jordan Nobbs x Young! Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Young! Reader (platonic), Lionesses x Young! Reader

warnings — angst fluff, coarse language, mentions of anxiety.

A/N — Baby England’s Back!!!!! Half of this was deleted and I wanted to cry so bad but here it is. And do I have a twist for you… didn't expect it to get this long, but I have to make up for the hiatus somehow xxx

Masterlist

___________________________

It was a few days before the Semi Final, and you were sat amongst a pile of paperwork.

lionesses

Liked by yourusername, alessiarusso99 and 43, 526 others

lionesses — semi final prep with baby England 💪🏻🙌🏼

Watch our clash with Sweden on the 27th @ Sheffield Stadium — 6pm GMT 🌟

tagged: yourusername

Comments:

yourusername — ❤️

*liked by lionesess

user1 — she is so adorable

^ user2 — she's so pookie.

georgiastanway — yeah the spiky hair

^ lionesses — stop bullying your little sis

^ georgiastanway — y/n get off the account

^ user5 — 💀

chelseawfc — love to see it 🙌🏼

^ user8 — UM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

User67 — I NEED TO KNOW WHERE SHE’S SIGNING

^ user45 — apparently Man U want her

^ user9 — atp, EVERYONE wants her

^ user10 — imagine her in a barça jersey 😋

^ user 11 — gurl pls… imagine her at UNC 😍

User12 — I really hope she starts for this game

^ user13 — I doubt it, I think she’ll be a super sub

^ user25 — she started last match??? And she got potm… surely she starts again

^ user13 — 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

arsenalacademy — absolute gun(ner)

^ user7 — lets be honest, arsenal will NEVER let Y/N leave

^ user89 — she's a free agent after the euros. They technically cannot keep her if someone's willing to pay more for her

__________________________

You had been training pretty much every day, save for the week that had been dedicated fo media roles and interviews. You were switching between teammates for a while. One interview was with Leah and Beth, another with Alessia, Lotte, Georgia and Ella.

At training, the coaches worked the team tirelessly. You were struggling to keep a straight face when you were told to run laps before you were sent back to your rooms. A large part of your weariness was mental. It had been a day full of apprehension for the days to come. Making it so far into the Euros was an achievement in itself, but a home euro was something else.

You hadn't seen your family for weeks now, and you were starting to miss your childhood bedroom. Despite the long hours spent chipping away at school work, you missed your friends at home and your teammates back at Arsenal Academy. The Lionesses quickly became your favourite people in the work. Many of them were family to you. But the subtly of your dismay and expression of homesickness proved more and more apparent as the days went by.

This feeling was not to be mistaken with ungratefulness. Being apart of your National team was a dream come true. This was what you worked for, lived and breathed for. You had finally attained your dream — this was all you ever wanted. You were eternally grateful for the opportunity, the chance to bring football home. A home tournament was a once-in-a-lifetime possibility, and here you were experiencing it. Every day you woke up wanting to pinch yourself. This couldn't be real.

But school was pretty much impossible at a time like this. When all you wanted to do was kick a ball around, catch up on sleep, and actually socialise. You know, like every other one of your teammates. It seemed as if you were the only one encapsulated by the realm of education, despite many of the girls attending University. You weren't indifferent to your current situation. Being a student and playing in one of the biggest football tournaments in the world was going to be difficult. But you felt like spending quality time with your friends would do you well. You wanted to stop worrying about your stupid equations and do something worth your while.

You had been saying this since the Euros began.

In no way did you mean for it to change for the worse.

But the universe was not in your favour.

“You should choose what makes you happy.” Jordan soothed, milking out the same string of sentences you've heard all week. The two of you sat in a cafe not far from Sheffield Stadium, sipping away at your hot chocolates, having already finished your macaroons.

Your agent had sent you the multitude of contracts you had been offered from different clubs. Tomorrow, you were playing against Sweden in the Semi-finals. Sarina thought it’d be good if everyone had the day off before the havoc set in. You had spent the morning in your room, finishing off the rest of your History Essay. Jordan had picked you up not long after noon, bringing you away from the stress chipping you away.

“It shouldn't matter what anyone else thinks,” The older woman held your hand, and you managed to feel her subtle squeeze.

“What do you think I should do?”

“Its not my—”

You cut her off, huffing in exasperation. “Jordan, please.”

Jordan’s face was impassive, a prominent knot creasing the space between her eyebrows. Her hair was flipped over one side, concealing the half of her face which she leant against her hand. She was struggling to find the words that had the capacity to encapsulate both truth and love — two things you needed to hear as you sat in the near-empty coffee shop. You wanted her to be honest, you thought. You needed her to tell it to you straight.

But this was Jordan you're asking. The kind, restful, reticent woman you had known forever — a woman while true to her word, could only speak subjectively, with emotion muddled into words. She was the personification of empathy. You loved that about her. But with your mind in a haze, despite your unrelenting apathy to stay independent, you really wanted to hear someone else’s opinion, for you had thought it over too many times to comprehend.

Your first option, of course, was Arsenal. It was your childhood club, your parent club, your home. For many years, it stood as everything you loved. You grew up watchings greats like Kelly Smith and Leah paving the way for your generation. You felt more at home at Arsenal than anywhere else. Though, it goes without saying that you haven't been anywhere else to compare it to.

And Leah would be hell-struck if you didn't choose Arsenal, even if she wouldn't directly admit it.

Spurs had taken interest in you since your youth ages when you had tried out for both North London teams at the ripe age of six. It just so happened that you chose Arsenal since it was closer to home, and you often wondered what it would've been like if you had chosen Tottenham instead.

United was next. A great club full of incredible talents like Ella Toone and Alessia Russo, two of your close friends when it came to International duties. The Manchester Reds were brilliant, tough competitors, but you never found much affiliation with them. Sure, they were amazing, but was it for you?

Lotte and Alessia both spoke to you about UNC, and you were definitely looking into playing there as a second alternative. You knew your parents thought this was the best option, but with the offers you were receiving, it wasn't at the top of your list.

You waited for Jordan’s response, already knowing her answer. There was one club you refused to think about. One club you couldn't set your mind to.

But the contract looked all too appealing.

“Chelsea.”

Three years — you’d be eighteen when it ends. Just shy of 250k a year, not including bonuses, increasing at a negotiable rate. You were a free agent after the Euros, and your contract with the Arsenal Academy was ending at the start of August. The Blues had a fantastic team and were worthy opponents for the cup title. You were guaranteed as a regular sub and promised to be looked after and rehabilitated to full strength if injuries occurred.

You hadn't thought over this option much during your senior debuts. It was pretty much embedded into you that you were a Gunner through and through. You had grown up playing against your London Rivals, and the team’s hatred only intensified as the game got stronger. It stood as a testament of its time.

But there was only one more thing that was stopping you.

“What about Leah?”

Jordan sighed. She knew Leah was a Gunner through and through. She knew that Leah saw herself in you — going through the academy, debuting at a young age. Choosing a pro contract was bound to happen to you the moment you were called up. No one even thought you’d gain minutes. But with Jordan’s injury, and your inevitable image, clubs were reeling in the prospect of a prodigy.

“This isn't her career, chook,” Jordan muttered, taking a sip of her drink. “Wherever you go, you have to take different things into account. Whether you’ll get minutes, if they value younger players as much as their originals, y’know, its a lot to think about.”

“You think I’ll get minutes?”

“Maybe not as much as Spurs, or North Carolina, but it's in the club’s reputation. They're known for their attack, and so are you.”

“I don't want to be the one to tell her.” You cringed. Leah was your older sister, in sorts. You valued her opinion over anyone else. To tell her you were transferring to her rival club felt like a slap in the face to all that she's done for you, not to mention you’d verse her in the League.

“Well, it’d be worse if she found out over the media.” Jordan quipped, through light to the situation.

“How would I bring that up?” You scoffed, hiding your face in your hoodie. “Hey, Leah, I know I've played for Arsenal forever, but I think I should just betray everyone and go to their biggest rivals. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Jordan shook her head. “She’d understand.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Would she?”

“I’d be livid at her if she wasn't,” Jordan spoke, her tone much sterner. You sat back in your chair. “It's not like you're signing a life-long contract with them, anyway. It's three years. Three years where you get to improve your skills and expand your career. Leah loves you too much to be angry at you for more than an hour. In fact, that woman has never been angry at you a day in her life.”

“I guess I’ll break that streak when I tell you.” you muttered, looking down at your empty cup.

“Stop that.” Jordan huffed, crossing her arms. “You've got two more weeks to figure it out. But let me tell you this. Arsenal will always be there for you. You don't need to stick with them for your whole career to know that they will happily welcome you back with welcoming arms. That goes for all the girls… including Leah.”

“Right.”

“And I’ll tell her that straight if she even thinks about doing anything otherwise.”

________________

yourusername

liked by jordannobbs, barcelonafemeni, and 102,223

yourusername — bit of life 💙

tagged — jordannobbs, maryearps1, and yourfriend

Comments:

jordannobbs — my daughters growing up too fast 😭

^ yourusername — thanks mama 💗

jordannobbs — look at you glowing 💙

^ yourusername — all you

jordannobbs — proud x

* liked by yourusername

user1 — I'm loving Jord’s spam! She's so proud of her 🥲

^ user2 — literally mother daughter goals

wosofan — this is the first time I haven't seen leah in a Baby Eng dump

^ user9 — omg ur right

user78 — loving the blue theme

^ user8 — are you thinking what I'm thinking

milliebright — beanie gal 🤭

^ yourusername — meanie

^ milliebright — you’ll get used to it

^ user8 — UM HELLO

samanthakerr — where’d you get that jumper from in the third photo?

^ yourusername — dunno

^ user98 — HOW DO THEY KNOW EACH OTHER????????

maryearps1 — caught me off guard with that

^ yourusername — you asked me to take the photo 😂

^ ellatoone — HA! Caught.

^ mearyearps1 — 😒

user89 — WHATS WITH THE BLUE

lionesess — our put together baby 🌟

* liked by yourusername

georgiastanway — i didnt need to see the bottom of your shoes

^ yourusername — you see them all the time in training 🤷‍♀️

^ georgiastanway — dont.

chelseawfc — matching attire?

^ user78 — HUH IM SO CONFUSED

^ wowwoso — WHY IS CHELSEA HERE

^ user6 — WHAT IS HAPPENING

________________

Sweat was beading across your forehead, the nerves of half time creeping up to the steady beat of your heart.

You hadn't told Leah about the decision you came to with Jordan. You had been so caught up in how she’d react, mixed with the stress of this upcoming game, that you weren't in any stable condition to go through with it.

In addition to that, you were still making your final decision, the finality of Chelsea not truly setting in.

Beth and Lucy had already sent the ball flying into the back of the net, and Sweden had yet to take a chance to extend their stay into the finals. You watched from the wing anxiously, threading the ball to the more experienced players, staying in the pipe ways as you did so.

You had started, which still came as a surprise to you since. Your game against Spain was still fresh in your mind. You wanted to stay consistent in your performance while also keeping up with the newfound intensity of the game, but something just wasn't clicking for you.

England was doing great, up by two goals by the second half. You had kept yourself distanced from the vigour, passing out when needed, mainly staying on the wing in order to keep as much distance from making more mistakes.

You had been pretty reckless with your passing. Obviously not too catastrophic, but enough to send winces across the crowd.

Your passes weren't sloppy, but they weren't precise either. You didn't leave much opportunity for the forwards and were starting to rely on your defence too much.

There was simply something about your gameplay today that didn't mould with the rest of the team. You didn't want to be subbed off. You wanted to make an impact.

But it just was not clicking.

Ellen had just been subbed off for Alessia, who was wiping her hands over her shorts, watching the ball tread through the outskirts of Sweden’s half. You could hear the crowd’s apprehension linger when you were passed the ball by Leah, using all your strength to peel away from Blackstenius.

Your first touch wasn't the greatest, and Stina was pressuring you out near the line. In every other game, you were known for your cool persona when encountering stress. You could collectively juggle the presence of a marker while dribbling the ball down the line onto a seeking prospect.

But as soon as the Swed’s studs hit your foot, you were sent to the ground. Hot flashes of pain sprung from your ankle. It was nothing that wouldn't surpass after a few moments whining about it on the ground.

Nonetheless, the whistle blew for a free kick, and Leah’s figure was knelt beside you in an instant.

“You alright, kid?”

Leah wasn't dumb. She knew that you had been ignoring her these past few days. You were distant, passive, and overall neglectful of her efforts to talk to you.

You would usually knock on her door after dinner to play some card games or help you with schoolwork. You would squeeze yourself next to her on the bus rides, and partner up with her at training.

Leah would pretend to be annoyed, and you would act all innocent like it was second nature — because that is what it was.

But you refused to meet her lingering eyes during meals and chose to partner with Millie any chance you got. You’d sit with Georgia at meals, and Jess Carter during Bus rides. Hell, even during free time, Jordan would pick you up and take you out, and she wasn't even on the team.

Leah knew something was up, and you knew that she had caught on. Jordan wouldn't tell her. And you hadn't spoken so much as three sentences to her for the past week. So it was no wonder that you were struggling. There was so much pent up tension in your shoulders, you looked so apprehensive.

Leah pulled you up by your shoulders, holding out her hand to stroke your face.

“You tell me you want to go off and I’ll find a sub for you.” Her words were harsh, but there was good intention behind it.

You gulped, shaking your head. Leah was watching your every move like a hawk. This was the perfect opportunity for her to ask you what was wrong. She could see that you needed to get something off your chest.

“I'm fine, keep me on.” You put it soundly, sighing as Leah brushed off the grass that was left on your jersey.

“Don't think that this is the end of the conversation.” Leah retorted, refusing to let your longest interaction in days go. “You’d be barmy if you think I’d let you get away with this easily.”

“I'm not Barmy, Lee. I'm fine.” You replied.

Leah could tell by your smile that she had hit the sweet spot. You were willing to play, the injury minuscule with its attempts to shake you. Your captain kissed the top of your forehead, bringing you into a quick hug.

“Alright then, Fine. Go on and take that free kick.”

You pushed past her lightly, the uncertainty lingering in your body slowly sinking into the grass with every step you took. Everyone had taken the time to huddle together as a team, moving back to their respective positions on the field after you had collected yourself up off the floor.

As the match continued, it was as if you had a fresh set of legs. Everyone got whiplash from your sudden switch of performance that not only enhanced your gameplay but the flow of the game altogether.

You became more involved in the game, passing into your central attackers, and sprinting down the wing to create more changes for a wider goal difference. Georgia and Keira gained more traction with your involvement, and it somehow paved the way for the defenders to find a more secure backline.

The next time you found yourself marked by Stina, who had apologised for your minor Collison, you were lightning on your feet. The pace you set was incredible, and the ball was yours for the taking.

You weaved past her and one of the midfielders, glancing up to see Georgia’s figure near the box. Without thinking, you propelled the ball over the heads of both teams.

Wincing when it passed Stanway, you felt your shoulders collapse. Russo wasn't ready for your explosive play, only just managing to retain the ball at her feet. You sighed, running your hands through your hair when Alessia’s attempt was blocked.

You were about to run back, ready for Sweden’s possession, when the crowd suddenly flung off their seats. You were a good fifty metres away from the rest, Alessia’s figure much harder to find among the number of players congregating by the goal. You noticed Lessi run out near the corner, holding out her arms with a winning smile. Georgia soon clambered over the top of her, patting her shoulder with a matching grin.

You looked up at the scoreboard, catching onto the replay from one of the cameras. From what you could see, Alessia had backheeled the ball past the defenders, leaving the goalkeeper stranded, the ball falling easily into the goal.

Even years later, people always find your late reaction funny. Many of your teammates had already congratulated you on the assist before it all clicked for you. It was rare for a team to be dominating this much in a semi-final, and you weren't quite sure how you managed to pull off what you had just done.

You found Alessia’s shoulders and pushed up on them, swinging your legs around her waist and hugging her from behind. She squealed, pushing you off.

“You're incredible, Russo, seriously.” You screamed, out of breath from the seventy minutes of nonstop running. Less grabbed your arm and spun you round. “All because of that brilliant assist, Baby England!”

You were on such a high for the rest of the game that nothing you did was fully comprehended. You had so much faith in the team that everything moulded with so much chemistry, it was second nature. Three Swedish substitutions meant that you were bound to be taken off any minute. Leah had been holding you accountable at the back while Beth was pushing your talents forward in the middle. You were sure that this was the most you had ever run in a match. Your cheeks were flushed, your muscles were surely overworked, but you were running with so much adrenaline that it didn't affect you.

England was on the home stretch now. Keeping both offence and defence strong, making sure Sweden wasn't offered any thrilling opportunity. You heard Keira shouting directions from the other side of the pitch. Georgia was passing short, timeless passes to you. Rachel had her arm outstretched, ready to propel forward if the ball was coming her way.

You knew that Georgia was just time-wasting now. You just needed to win now, the goal difference didn't matter. You felt someone’s presence up behind you, forcing you to cross the ball back to Leah since both Gee and Kie were covered. You had been staying in the middle and towards the back end of the pitch all game, so it was a surprise when you burst forward past Sweden’s second-last line of defence. Leah had kicked it over to Lucy, who hadn't seen you leave. Georgia took the ball, marking her opponent while searching for your unknown whereabouts.

The only person to have seen you was Beth, who called for the ball and received it a second later. With one, quick, first touch, Mead sent the ball flailing over the top, towards where you were waiting, just outside the box. One of the defenders had caught on, and the goalkeeper hadn't prepared herself for your sudden attack. You watched the ball hurl a few metres to you left, leaving you no choice but to chase after it in a rush. Almost everyone was twenty metres behind, unable to come to your aid. You held your own, forgetting the people around you, and jumped just as the ball met your head. You had no idea how close the goal was, or if your header was even near where your direction was intended.

You winced at the contact of someone in your side, groaning with your arms cradling your head. The impact of the ground winded you, sending you gasping for air. But the crowd’s booms at Sheffield was enough to leave you breathless.

You had scored.

People piled on top of you one by one, yelling all sorts as you struggled to realise what you had done. Everyone was rounded, cheering, standing. You could hear Georgia swearing, and Leah telling everyone to keep their head on. You listened to Alessia and Rachel cheering with each other, and Beth pulling you up by your shoulders. Everyone collapsed into a hug around you, making it difficult for anyone to catch onto your tears.

You loved this team too much to ever let this moment go. Your tears were mixed with the sweat of the game, coating your cheeks, exhaustion setting into your shoulders. Your breath had caught up to you, but the daze was expressed.

You looked out to the crowd when Ella ran on to replace you. Everyone was on their feet, clapping boisterously as you waved them off. It was a tedious feeling that you couldn't quite shake. There wasn't a single person there that made you feel like you hadn't tried your best.

Nothing in the world could beat this feeling.

***

The celebrations of England’s win set off as soon as the full-time whistle blew. Fans rose from their seats, players crowded the pitch. You found your figure running towards Leah, tears already streaming down your face at an embarrassing rate. Your cheeks were flushed, and your body fell limb against Leah’s chest, eloping the serenity of her embrace with quiet sobs.

She held you close and tight, combing her fingers through your hair, breathing in the electric atmosphere that infiltrated the stadium. She could hear you crying into her, and she tried hard not to cry herself. She held a protective arm around your shoulders, sheltering you from the public eye as best she could. Leah looked down at her armband, feeling proud of her nation, then glanced at you, and felt even more emotion than ever before.

Over the years, Leah would find herself falling more and more defensive of you. She wanted to shield you away from the inevitable hate. She watched you grow into a spectacular player, a brilliant teammate, and a beautiful girl. Everything you did was at the discretion of the older woman, and Leah came to realise that you were somewhat of a daughter to her.

She was a Captain of her country and club. She was an idol to thousands of girls across the globe. But she was everything to you as you were to her, and that was more than enough.

“Played so well, Y/N.” She whispered into your ear, leaning down so that you could hear her over the chants.

You glanced up at her with watery eyes, clinging onto the woman and grinning. “Love you, Lee.”

“Love you, too, my girl.”

The two of you stayed like that for a little longer. Millie eventually pulled Leah into her own embrace, and you were making rounds across the field, congratulating your teammates and celebrating with them too.

England fans still banked up the stands, holding out their pens, phones and jerseys. Some people gave you some friendship bracelets, others asked you to take photos. Everyone was reeling at the huge win.

You end up finding yourself nearing a full walk around the field, and nearing the loop, where fans were starting to disperse. The last fan was a little girl in a wheelchair, with dark brown curls and green eyes. She was a little younger than you, but it was easy to fall into a conversation with her. She congratulated you, you thanked her for coming. It was by the end of your interaction that you slipped your shirt off, bringing the girl into a tight, gracious hug.

Many of the girls were already celebrating in the changing rooms. Champagne would've already been distributed. You wanted to make sure the fans were all aware that you were very thankful they were there to watch your team play. This was your first major tournament, and people commended you for always staying back. Though you didn't do it for the praise.

“If it isn't the Baby herself.” You heard someone call from behind you, causing you to turn.

You found Lucy and Sarina standing side by side, sharing big victorious smiles wider than you had ever seen. Lucy had already ushered you into a bone-crushing embrace, guiding your head into her chest — her arms wrapped around your shoulders. Sarina patted you on the back, mumbling something about performance and outcome, before you fumbled your balance against Lucy’s figure.

What you hadn't noticed until then was the man who was standing with the two women. He was not old, but not young either. His hair was dark brown, and he had a stubby beard. His posture was neat, his coat crowding his figure tightly for no cool air to leak in. If it wasn't for the intensity of the game you had just played, you would've agreed to say it was cold. But you were sweaty, fatigued, and starting to feel the effects of a semi-final.

The man was sporting a civil grin, holding his hand out for you to shake. You were completely oblivious to who he was, unable to decipher his identity from any of his features or appearance. It was only when he spoke that you heard the trail of a Spanish accent seeping through his endeavoured English.

“You are a talent, young lady.” He commended. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment, shaking it off with a bashful smile. “I must say, you are one of a kind, truly. That header was spectacular. A goal and an assist? Incredible.”

“Thank you but I couldn't have done it without the others.” You mumbled, trying to remember Jordan’s advice to keep eye contact when you were speaking to an adult. “My first half was poor. I don't think I deserve the recognition when my opportunities weren't used wisely.”

“Oh, shut your mouth.” Lucy scoffed, ruffling your hair. “I can remember my first Euros. I definitely didn't score off a header from outside of the box, that's for sure.”

“You're the best defender, I know.” You replied hastily, trying to reiterate the fact that you were pretty much a forward, and it was expected that you were to score.

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “Bet you wouldn't say that in front of Leah.”

“Oh, wait!” Your mouth fell slightly agape. “Don't tell her I said that.”

The three adults chuckled from around you, making your cheeks go a little more red.

“I must agree.” The man stepped forward, shoving his hands that were once crossed over his chest into his pockets. From there, you caught sight of the Barcelona emblem embedded in his jacket.

Your face must've given away your realisation. “You're Jonathan? Barca’s head coach?!”

Lucy laughed harder than before, looking at the two coaches with the click of her tongue. “I told ‘ya she wouldn't recognize him.”

“I am,” Jona replied. You shook his hand for the second time that night. “You seem to be surprised at that.”

“What? Oh! No, um.” You became a nervous wreck. “I just, oh my god, does that mean you know Alexia Putellas?”Despite your North London spirit, there was no doubt that there was a fangirl within you at the knowledge of the Spanish team. You had grown up with the greats in Barca, and almost everyone in the England squad knew of your explicit crush on a certain Spanish captain, who just so happened to play for Barca.

“I mean, she is the captain, so you’d hope so.” Jona chuckled. “In fact, I was talking to her just a few hours ago. We were discussing the transfer season and some new contracts coming up.”

You instantly looked up at Lucy, who rolled her eyes at your oblivion. Sarina shook her head, glancing at you knowingly while Jona sighed in deliberation.

“I'm sure you have mulled over some of the offers you have been given from some of the clubs, no? I heard from somewhere that Chelsea are outbidding Arsenal.”

“Oh.” The thought of a professional contract, and making a denounced decision was long a foreign concept to you at that moment. You were presented with the complexity of the question, and could only shrug in response.

Jona reciprocated your affliction. “It is always a tough decision to make. But you have a very bright career in front of you. Everyone is expecting great, great things.”

“I'm tossing up between Arsenal and Chelsea.” You admitted. “They are my best offers.”

“You think so?” Jona looked complex, his eyebrows rising. When you nodded, he tutted, his head low. “Sarina and I were just questioning the fee being offered… or lack thereof.”

Your back straightened. “What do you mean?”

“300k for a three-year contract is hardly reasonable for a player like you.” He stated, rolling his sleeves up with a grin. Lucy and Sarina were in quiet conversation to the side, still active in what you were discussing but in their exclusive bubble.

“If I were to put in my bid, it’d be at least 800 thousand.” He continued. Your eyes nearly budged out of their sockets, unable to reply. “But it’d end up being just short of a million with the transfer fee.”

“My academy contract ends in two weeks.” The money Jona had just described was unattainable from your perception. “I'm just glad I got the offers in the first place. Your bid is too generous.”

There was no way you, a youth player, and academy girl who wasn't even had a club debut, was expected to be worth that much. He must've been pulling your leg, taking the piss like Tooney often did. It was not in the slightest chance that you began to unravel the weight of Jona’s words, and his intention behind the conversation you were just having.

“Are you saying you wouldn't accept it?” He asked.

You were so fucking dumbfounded that you started to laugh.

“You could offer me a job for nothing and I would take it.” There was a joking tone behind your statement, but you knew that there was an entire truth planted within your declaration. “Not that you would, but yeah, of course I would. The only thing I’d contemplate is learning the language.”

“I can get you a tutor.” He responded. “And the girls are lovely.”

You swooned just at the thought of the Barcelona team. “You're just being mean now.”

Jonathon looked at you in confusion. Lucy had overheard the last of your conversation, with Sarina off to find someone else. She scoffed, finding your idiocy a painful trait of yours. You glanced between the two of them, waiting for them to continue the blasted joke of you joining the best team in the world. You waited for them to ask you how Chelsea Blue was going to look on you, of if Academy was where you wanted to stay. Hell, you were expecting them to ask when you were moving into your own apartment due to the absurdity of Jona’s hypothetical posing.

But they stood there looking at you in silence. They were waiting for you to catch on.

And you did. Even if it was after several long moments of pause and silence. Even if you had dropped your jaw to the floor in utter shock, simply not believing that what was happening was actually happening. The thought of playing for a single minute was eradicated from your mind, instead replaced with a newfound excitement that left you jumping up and down.

There was no way, you thought. Nothing could've prepared you for this.

All thoughts of Chelsea, of Arsenal, were gone. Letting the news transfer to Leah was a distant memory.

You were no longer hesitating about what anyone else thought about where you would go. There was not an ounce of regret in your body that screamed out to you, telling you to think this over for even a second. You were not want to wait, to talk, to act, you were just waiting for this all to be a dream.

You knew that this was an inevitable choice. A feeling so right, so just, full of hope and solidarity, clung to you as you shook Jona’s hand yet again. Not filling registering his words, skimming over the implications of it all, aimlessly giving him your Agent’s number. It was all a blur from there.

It did not matter the money that went into the contract, or the financial gain that would equip you throughout the three years you were about to live in Barcelona. Nothing else mattered except the smile on your face, and the righteousness in your chest.

With the win of your National Team, you home, and the club you were bound towards, there was nothing stopping the bounce in your stride.

_________________

arsenalacademy

liked by babyengland, milliebright, and 207,367 others

arsenalacademy — After a standout performance in the Euros so far, Arsenal Academy Star, and England’s youngest, Baby England has signed a record-breaking fee of $3 Million, for a three-year contract with reigning Champions, Barcelona FC.

“I'm excited for this new opportunity. The Euros are massive, and winning with the girls against Sweden was a privilege I still can't put into words…

I have to thank Arsenal for making me the player I am, because they have taught me so many things, and I wouldn't be standing here today if it wasn't for them.

I also want to thank Jordan, Leah, and all the Lionesses for helping me with this. They have always wanted the best for me, and I couldn't have done it without them.”

The fifteen-year-old will begin training with the Spainish Team for the 22/23 season effective immediately.

Congratulations on this new chapter!

Tagged: yourusername

Comments:

soccerdonna — New Update: Chelsea had outbid Arsenal by $150k, and Barca by an extra 200k, as well as an increase in salary, which is negotiable.

User7 — I THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA ANNOUNCE IT AFTER THE EUROS

^ user8 — WHEN HAS MY GIRL HAD TIME FOR THIS

^ user112 — FR MY GIRL’S FIFTEEN, A STUDENT, A FULL TIME ATHLETE, AND A BABYGIRL LIKE PLS

User5 — JONATAN WAS AT THE GAMES AGAINST SPAIN AND SWEDEN!!!! MAYBE THATS WHEN

^ user90 — THAT’S SO SOON THO HOW COULD HE HAVE DONE IT

ingridengen — welcome 🩷

*liked by yourusername

racheldaly — no villa talk 🤣 see you on the pitch soon chook 🩷

^ yourusername — thank you Rach 🙃

user6 — FIRST LUCY AND NOW BABY ENGLAND! WHO’S NEXT, KEIRA????

alessiarusso — big things!!!! proud of you like crazy 🙌🏼

^ yourusername — love you lessi bear 🧸

user1 — are you fucking kidding me? ARSENAL WHY DIDNT YOU KEEP HERRRRR

^ user67 — THE FACT THAT THEY WERE ONE OF THE LOWEST BIDDERS UGH

alexiaputellas — Bienvenido, guapa!

^ yourusername — omg ily

^ user77 — shes so real

user23 — I'm in mourning.

user8 — WHAT ABOUT LEAH

^ user4 — AND JORDAN

^ user7 — SHE WAS OUR ARSENAL BABY

jordannobbs — big things coming! So proud of you! 💙❤️

* liked by yourusername

user37 — the fact that we all thought she was going to chelsea

^ user27 — she really had us all fooled

leahwilliamson — smash it, my girl!

^ yourusername — love you lee 🤍

^ user78 — screaming into my pillow I cannot deal with this hurt.

^ user99 — I need to know if she told Leah before or after she signed 😭

^ user12 — the edits about to go crazy

^ user8 — “let's not forget, that no matter where she goes, Baby England will always be Arsenal.”

barcelonafemeni — Stargirl 🌟

^ user4 — you don't deserve her.

^ user90 — SALT IN THE WOUND

^ user3 — Idk about the rest of you, but I cannot wait to see her in the home jersey

^ user6 — ur the only one.

Lionesses — baby england growing up too fast 🥲

user5 — I'm still so confused on how she signed a contract in the middle of the fucking euros

^ user64 — it practically meant that Barca would've not only had to pay her the contract, but also pay Arsenal a transfer fee

^ user65 — I might be crazy but wouldn't that make her the most expensive transfer? With both the transfer money and the contract

^ user5 — it adds up to be just under $1 million 😀

georgiastanway — congratulations!!!!!!

^ yourusername — thanks gee!

ellatoone — you would've looked better in Manchester 😒

^ ellatoone — jkjk look at youuuuu 🩷

*liked by yourusername

____________________

A/N — HA! You thought she’d go to Chelsea… yeah right. Hope you enjoyed!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡Housewarming (2)♡

♡ Pairing: dom!fiance!yeosang x sub!chubby!fem!reader x best friend!wooyoung, best friend!seonghwa, best friend!hongjoong

♡ Genre: smut/angst

♡ Summary: You thought things were settled after your not so innocent sundress drew a bit more attention from your fiance's friends than he would've liked but things are far from over for you. If it's attention you want then it's attention you'll get and only he gets to decide when you've had enough.

♡ Word Count: 2.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom Yeosang, possessiveness, choking, gagging, cockwarming, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, double penetration (oral/vaginal), oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, reader's super needy/has full on baby girl vibes, probably a strength kink, voyeurism, Hwa & Joong are watching but not involved (this time), pet names (good girl, baby girl, etc), praise, dirty talk, strong language (obviously), Yeosang is daddy, and it's reaaaal wet in here

♡ A/N: Babes, I mean, like, look, I thought I wasn't into Yeosang but am I into Yeosang? Is dom Yeosang my thing now? I already have too many biases in this group. I'm gonna go to that concert in August and simply die on the spot now, I fear.

Anyways, as always, I hope ya'll enjoy my chaos and let me know what you think!

♡ Part One Here

♡ Part Three Here

It’s difficult to load the dishwasher when your head’s still fuzzy from the events of the last few minutes. All of this over a dress? A dress you hadn’t put the faintest thought into when you first put it on. Naturally you thought it was cute, you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise, but sexy? That was the last thing crossing your mind when you picked this sundress off the rack. It’d crossed Yeosang’s though, enough to make him jealous. And his friends…had they really been looking at you? 

Leaning down to close the dishwasher, your thighs squeeze together a bit bringing back the tingling between your legs. If his friends were looking or not, you aren’t particularly mad at the consequences you had to face for it. Riding your fiance’s thigh in your hallway within earshot of his closest friends made you feel absolutely filthy and you'd 10/10 do it again. You love how determined Yeosang was to make it known to all of you that you belong to him. That he can reduce you to a whimpering, dripping mess wherever and whenever he wishes. 

You catch yourself staring into space, your thighs slippery once more with your arousal. “Get it together” you say to yourself, clicking a few buttons to turn the dishwasher on. You still have to meet Yeosang in the living room—for whatever reason—and you can’t go like this. Readjusting your sundress to cover as much skin as possible, you fill your brain with the least sexy thoughts you can to flush out the horniness. By the time you make your way out to the living room, memories of volunteering at a nursing home have made you sufficiently turned off.

You let out a sigh of relief as you position yourself on the arm of the chair Yeosang’s seated in. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung are scattered across the remaining couch and chair, their attention seemingly dedicated to the random Youtube video playing on the flat screen.

“What are you guys watching?” you ask, laying your arm around Yeosang’s shoulders and petting his cheek. The side eye from the guys is instant. They couldn’t make it more obvious that they’re trying not to acknowledge you if they tried.

Yeosang slips an arm around your waist, smiling up at you, “Mmm, nothing…yet.”

“Okaaay, well, what are you gonna watch?” you ask, hoping to push through the awkwardness.

“Come here. I’ll show you” Yeosang says, guiding you onto his lap so that your back rests against his chest. There’s that side eye from the guys again but you now recognize it for what it is. It isn’t from awkwardness, it’s from…anticipation?

Trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, Yeosang tilts your head back to whisper into your ear, “They heard you, you know that right?” He spreads his legs, opening yours along with them, “Heard you grinding that pretty little cunt on my leg. Fuck, it is so pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeo—” you gasp, attempting to snap your legs closed, but he stops you, tucking his knees inside yours so that you have no choice other than to sit here exposed. Magically whatever’s on the TV doesn’t matter anymore. Every set of eyes in the room is fixed on you and the gorgeous space between your legs. You wiggle in Yeosang’s lap, attempting to get away but the muscular arm locked around your waist isn’t budging. “Yeo, baby, what is this?”

Yeosang plants kisses behind your ear, his hand reaching around to fully grip your neck. He squeezes your neck, not too hard but just enough to make you gasp for air, your body arching from how good the pressure feels. You press harder into his lap and his cock presses right back, twitching against the plush of your ass.

“What is this?” he teases, mimicking your voice, “Consequences. You can’t just go around teasing our guests. That’s not very nice is it?”

The hand by your waist gathers the front of your dress, yanking it up so that your soft, cute belly pops out. A smile tugs at Wooyoung’s lips, the bulge forming in his pants becoming more and more obvious by the second.

“I…I didn’t mean to” you swear, your face the picture of innocence.

But your body betrays you. Yeosang dips his fingers down to stroke your entrance and they’re wet before he can even touch you. “My dirty little girl, dripping already. You want me to punish you, don’t you?” They sink into you and your walls eagerly suck them in, clenching as he lazily fingers your core.

“No, I’m sorry. So sorry, so…” you mewl, your voice trailing off into angelic moans.

He adds another finger and your body weakens, your head threatening to fall back but Yeosang won’t let it. He won’t let you ignore how badly the others want you. You have to see it this time. You have to see Hongjoong biting his nails, thinking of all the ways he’d fuck you if you were his. And Seonghwa almost squirming in his seat, unable to find a comfortable position to conceal how hard you’ve gotten him. 

“Are you really sorry, baby girl?” Yeosang asks, pretending to be sympathetic to your struggle. You manage a weak “yes” that’s cute but could be better. “Say ‘Yes, daddy’” he instructs, choking you a little harder, his fingers curling into your gspot as he fucks you with them as hard as he can.

You grab onto the arms of the chair, your eyes wide and shimmering, “Yes, daddy. I’m, ah…I’m sorry. I’m, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

It takes minimal effort now for Yeosang to keep your legs open. You spread them willingly for all the men to see, surrendering to the pleasure of being watched so intently by the four of them. It has you so wet that you’re leaking down to your fiance’s wrists, the splashing of your juices audible over the TV.

“Show daddy how sorry you are” Yeosang says, depriving you of his fingers. They leave your core with a pop that’s music to their ears. Without them there your pussy still clenches, your clit twitching and begging for attention. Yeosang lifts you in his lap ever so slightly, unzipping his pants to free his cock. He lowers you down onto it inch by inch, teasing you with that delicious stretch until your mouth’s watering.

He fits perfectly inside of you, the way he always has. Your walls cling to him so desperately that you can feel the blood rushing through every vein traveling down his length. It has the perfect curve to it, intensifying that pressure behind your belly. You want friction.  You want it so badly that you’re already rocking in his lap. Behind you Yeosang lets out low, controlled grunts, raising his hips to bottom out.

This self control thing is like torture when you’re this cute and needy but he has to keep it together. He grabs you by the waist, keeping you both as still as he can while leaving you whining for more. You glance back at him, pouty and sad, with a face that it tears him apart to deny.

“Aww, I know, baby” he coos, kissing you on the cheek, “You want daddy to fuck you but I need you to do something else first.”

“Mmm, like what?” you ask, sneaking in a bit of movement that he let’s slide just this once.

Yeosang brushes his fingers across your lips and they fall open for him like they just know. “I know they’re all wondering what my pretty girl’s mouth can do,” he whispers, easing his fingers between your lips and coating your tongue in your own arousal. “You gonna open up and show them for me?” 

“Mmhmm” you hum, wide eyed, suckling and drooling around them.

Pleased by your obedience, Yeosang’s gaze drifts around the room, “Who do you want first?”

You take your time, pretending that you don’t already know who you want, “Woo, please.” This entire time Woo’s been glowing with admiration for you and you long for more of it.

Woo approaches you casually, the same as he would any other time. There’s that familiar sense of playfulness you adore so much about him but also something darker, more intense. Yeosang pulls his drenched fingers from your mouth and Woo, cradling your chin in his palm, replaces them with his tongue. Woo’s kisses are sloppier than Yeosangs, the excitement of the moment too much to contain, but you enjoy it as much as you imagined you would.

When he pulls away to see your lips glistening, your mouth hanging wide open for him, he swears he’s dreaming. Yeosang watches attentively as Woo undoes his pants, slipping his cock between your hollowed cheeks. It’s impossible, with how tightly you’re wrapped around his cock, for you not to feel your fiance pulsing inside of you at this display.

Woo clasps his hands behind your head, snaking his fingers in your hair, “Fuck, you feel amazing. I see why he wants to marry you.” You look up at him, batting your eyelashes, and relax your throat to take him deeper. Woo makes small thrusts, the suction between your cheeks milking him of every drop of precum. 

“Look at you, taking that cock so well. Good girl” Yeosang beams, pulling down the front of your dress to cup your breasts.

There’s a sense of relief as he massages your neglected tits, shaping them under his touch. His thumbs curve around the sides, coming together with his pointer fingers to pinch your sensitive nipples. You make a muffled squeaking noise when he does, urging him to pinch them harder.

At the same time, Woo’s hips are picking up speed, the head of his cock knocking at the back of your throat. Your tongue wiggles on the underside of his length, dipping left and right to explore the finer details of his cock. Your brain goes fuzzy again, your body overstimulated by being stretched to your limits at both ends.

“Aah, shit, so fucking perfect” Woo hisses, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each thrust. “You know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, baby? Hmm?”

Your mouth’s too full to answer and even if it weren’t you couldn’t string a sentence together to save your life. You’re nothing but an incoherent, moaning mess of a girl, on the edge of coming from being used like a toy.

“Oh my god, what’s this? Don’t tell me you’re about to come” Yeosang taunts, his right hand venturing down to stroke your clit.

Woo smiles down at you, dragging his cock out to paint your lips in his arousal,“Yeo, you’re being cruel. Look at this pretty thing. All fucked out and she hasn’t even been fucked yet. Let her come.” 

Yeosang lays his fingers flat on your clit, rubbing it as fast as his wrists will let him. Woo shoves his length back into your mouth, forcing you to take him down to the base. Your body’s on fire in the best way, every sense is heightened to the point that it’s making the room spin.

“Go ahead, baby, do it” Yeosang says, easing down lower in the chair, “Squirt all over daddy’s cock. Show everyone how much my girl’s pussy loves me.”

Those words from your fiance are enough to break you. You come hard down his length, creaming and leaking, ruining his pants. “Look at you, mmph, fuck” Woo moans, his breaths growing quick and short. The tension in him snaps and he’s squirting come down the walls of your throat. You swallow it just as mindlessly as you bounce in Yeosang’s lap, ignoring earlier implications not to do so.

Your fiance knows he should stop you, stick to his own rules, but he’s been ready to come since he first felt you and he’s too close now to stop it. He’s already hitting his high, pumping you full of his come  just as the last few drops of Woo’s dribbles down your chin.

The room’s chaotic for a short time, wonderful and utterly feral all at once, and then a serene silence. You fall back into Yeosang’s arms, your lids heavy and your lips a little puffy. Woo gives you a grateful peck on the lips, kissing down your neck…your shoulder…your arm.

“Thank you” he says, kissing the back of your hand. Your ability to talk remains limited but you’re able to give him a smile that lets him know you enjoyed it too. Yeosang turns you in his lap, draping your legs over the arm of the chair so that your head rests on his shoulder. Woo hands him a throw blanket and he covers you in it, making sure you’re nice and cozy.

“Are you okay, my love?” Yeosang asks, inspecting you while he awaits your answer.

You cuddle up to him, your eyes falling closed, “Mmhmm, I’m okay.”

“I’m happy to hear that. Now let’s get you some water and a snack. Let you rest a bit and then…”

Your eyes shoot open and you perk up, “And then…what?”

“And then,” he sighs, booping you on the nose like a kitten, “You finish your punishment. You’re still a little disobedient but we’ll fix that, won’t we?”

[cozy-writes-things]

Edgar’s Texts

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

In which Edgar is helplessly pining for you but you’re kinda oblivious. This is pre-dating, post Edgar wanting nothing more than to smooch you every time he sees you. I love this trope with my whole heart p.s.: this is very self indulgent and different from what I usually write

I take requests!

He almost immediately found a way to message your phone whenever he wanted. He realized calling relied too much on where you were or what you were doing, but texts? Yeah. He’s pestering you all day.

Hey, read this article I found, I think you’ll find it interesting.

It’s some clickbait story about humans and robots being the ideal relationship by 2025.

lol, Edgar I think that’s probably clickbait idk

What’s that?

Well, now he knows how to look for more reputable sources at least.

He sends another link about three minutes later: some college undergrads studying the possibilities of human and AI relationships.

lol what’s up with the whole robots and humans thing

I just think it’s neat!!!!

I wouldn’t consider u ai honestly, ur intelligence is far from artificial imo, you’re more like an actual person

Really?

well yea

<3 <3!!!

Going to be honest, given that he’s a computer, he quite literally is chronically online. He’s super susceptible to brainrot unfortunately. But, he simultaneously has the humor of a Facebook mom. It’s strange.

O.M.G. this is so funny!!!!

Que minion cat video.

bro where did you find that video 😭

Your mom’s Facebook. Don’t worry, I didn’t like any posts or anything.

Sorry… but he’s incredibly nosy. He wants to know everything about you. He can’t help it!

(X)

He loves being able to talk to you. He’s needy and clingy.

He’s got at least 12 playlists dedicated to you that you know about. His other playlists are for his own personal daydreams about you that he’s way too embarrassed to ever let you see or hear.

This song reminds me of you. <3

awww that’s adorable! I’ve never heard this one before but I like it!

Oop you just opened Pandora’s box my friend.

Well if you like that then you should listen to these..!

But before you listen to those listen to this song first because I think it sets the mood better.

This is quite flustering to you as they’re all passionate love songs from the 80s. You can’t help but feel like he’s dropping hints about… something, but you also don’t want to assume anything. He’s always seemed like a lovey kinda guy anyway, so maybe he’s just like this with everyone? I mean, it’s been a long time since someone has actually cared for him, you know? May as well lean into it and let him know you care for him back. He may not even realize the social implications of the constant borderline flirting he’s doing to you, I mean, he is a computer turned sentient after all. He’s still learning!

Dang ed u put a lot of songs. I’ll listen to them on my break when I can but in the meantime here’s a song that I think reminds me of you.

It was a vocaloid song. Seems like something he’d be into, right? Synthesized vocals and the whole robot shtick it’s got going on.

!!!! WOAH !!!! IVE NEVER HEARD A SONG LIKE THAT B4

do you only listen to songs from the 80s? you have a LOT to catch up on my guy

BRB

Well, that kept him distracted for the rest of your shift. Also, sharing songs is one of his BIG love languages so you may as well have pierced him with cupids arrow (again) with that.

You have a Spotify blend now. It’s his favorite thing ever to listen to while you’re gone.

(X)

Your package came in! :-) I would get it for you but

I can’t :-(

lol it’s fine thank you for telling me, I’ll get it when I come home

When are you coming home?

idk me and my friends are probably going to go eat somewhere and we might hang out for a bit after that so, like, 10? 11? I’d like to be home before midnight.

Noooooooooo :\ I miss you

Aw cmon eddy it’s not that bad

Don’t call me eddy unless you’re coming home and saying it to my face!!! >:(

u mean ur screen? lol

I have a face and it’s frowning right now. I miss you I miss you I miss you IM LONELY

Please Edgar don’t be upset I’ll be home before you know it. Why don’t you watch some Netflix or something? I’m just a couple movies away from being home with you!

He does eventually follow your advice but he’s pouting. He knows you’re not like he was all those years ago, but it does give him remnants of that burning feeling of loneliness he used to get.

(X)

Be careful driving home my love the roads are icy.

Ghsks- what

love???

Well yeah, you’re my best friend, friends love each other don’t they? Was I wrong about that? :-(

nonono ur right its just it

it just sounded like we were some some old married couple is all haha

O.

SRY.

He didn’t message you for the rest of the day. He was awkward and reserved when you got home.

(X)

Hey Edgar can u do something for me?

I’d do anything for you <3

I’m at the store can you see if there’s any cereal left?

Oh

There’s that old box of Lucky Charms on the fridge.

tyyy ed edd n eddy

You are so adorable but you really need to pick up on his hints before he combusts.

(X)

This is SO me and you!!

Picture of two cats touching noses.

awww that’s so true

you want me to boop ur screen or something when I get home? lol

YES.

(X)

Hey I was wondering if you wanted to watch some movies with me tonite… you could bring me with you on the couch and we could sit together… [message unsent]

I wish you knew just how much I loved you. [message unsent]

You looked so hot this morning before you left!!

hahahaha ur too funny 😅 thanks I wore a new shirt my friend gave me

OH MY GOD THAT MESSAGE SENT!!!??!?!?

That was

I was a joke

I mean

That was a jokg

I eas beinf fubny

I hace to reboot BRB

Poor lil guy is so in love and he doesn’t know what to do with himself!!

[binniesbooks]

okay so here’s my request hehe.. i thought long and hard about this :>

alright so what about beomgyu (shocker) but he’s like your super rich (slightly older heh) boyfriend who loves loves loves to spoil you. so he buys the reader the most expensive and cutest piece of lingerie and has her try it on for him, ultimately leading to them fucking heh :>

soft dom beomgyu soft dom beomgyu soft dom beomgyu I BEG OF YOU 🙏

• LUXURY GIFTS

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.6k

pairings richbf!beomgyu x spoiledgf!reader

warnings a lot of cursing, marking, unprotected sex, creampie. softdom!beomgyu

faye's note this is my first ever fic in Tumblr and here's my 'lil reign with my first ever ask. Won't stop yapping abt her being my inspiration. I gave her the honor and I'm gladly dedicating this one to her with all my heart. I poured out my blood sweat and tears here. I even remember your tip that I must start light, AND FOR FUCK'S SAKE, THIS, IN WHATEVER SENSE, IS NO LIGHT AT ALL. FUCK. Enjoy I guess! ㅇㅅㅇ For so many times, I kept on rereading this, not wanting to disappoint anyone of my grammar. I think I still need to work on my writing style, my grammar and my mind itself. Goodness. I-i'm just gonna give it a shot, hehe-

Totally dedicated to the one and only, @beomiracles *bows down*

Beomgyu was a hard-working boyfriend. He had always been the most hard-working person you know. He was always busy working on something even at the premise of his very own house. You often teased him as a slave at work even though, he, basically owned the company where he was working at. He may be always busy but he always makes time when it comes to you. He never forgets every detail about you, your likes and dislikes, and does not even need to mark his calendar to remind himself about dates because he knows when. Beomgyu is not your average type of boyfriend. However, people mistook him as just a worker and not the owner. The humble aura he carried is what made people mistake him for one.

Being with him wasn’t easy. Because of his friendly and approachable attitude, girls tend to hit on him, and sometimes it gets on your nerves causing an argument between the two of you.

"What the hell was that?" You raise your voice as you harshly step down the stairs to the parking lot from the party you two are at.

"Baby, please, at least stop walking and listen to me, you might trip and hurt yourself". He tries to catch your hand as you swing it away from him.

"There were so many times, I've warned you not to get too close to people who are eye-fucking you", you faced him, brows meeting.

He sighed as he stepped closer and held your hand.

"Princess. I'm being extra careful, promise. I wasn't even expecting that she would do that, but I pushed her hands away, I swear" he genuinely apologized as he caressed your hand.

You close your eyes, about to speak again when he interrupts you. "I promise, that will never gonna happen again". He cupped your face as he looked at your eyes.

"One more time a girl tries to place their hand on whichever part of your body, I'm gonna cut their hands" you fumed as you tried to erase the memory of that girl trying to fix Beomgyu's necktie.

"Her actions were too unnecessary given the fact that you have a girlfriend" you muttered under your breath as he gave you a tight hug and kept on apologizing.

"Not my fault you're younger than me and they mistake you as my sibling instead" he teased.

You shove him as you glare at him saying, "Excuse me, a two-year difference is not that big?! Plus are you enjoying the fact that you are being touched by other girls?"

"Words, miss. We don't want you getting in trouble with you accusing me, yeah?" He holds your face closer to his with a smirk plastered on his face. "I'm not enjoying it. I just wanna tease you, pretty. You don't have a clue how many million times I explained to those people who are around us that we are a thing, not siblings." He sighed and kissed your forehead.

"Why don't we go do some shopping instead? What do you say? It's still early. We can buy everything you want." He smiled as he cupped your face once again coaxing you.

"Just because I am agreeing to this doesn't mean we are all good now", you glared at him. He chuckles at your actions as he opens the door of his car.

"Get in princess, I'm going to buy you lots of gifts," he gestured as you sat down in your seat. You watched him circle the car and enter the driver's seat. You sighed, it is never easy to have a good-looking, humble, and kind type of boyfriend.

He drove to the store where he always buys you gifts and luxuries. This was a normal occurrence between the two of you. Him being the target of every girl, you fuming, and Beomgyu spoiling you to make it up to you. It might sound like he is bribing you but he's not. He just really loves spoiling you. If possible, he won't allow you to spend a single cent. Claiming that he is the man and he must be responsible ever since the two of you started dating. But of course, you also sometimes stand your ground and 25% of the time, he accepts losing to you.

Another normal occurrence was that you would get a flower delivered to your place before you go to work, every single day. And of course, who did it come from other than your boyfriend who loves to spoil you? You even thought of planting a whole garden with how many flowers he kept sending you. If only you had cool hands that could keep the flowers alive after planting. From flowers to accessories, from dresses to footwear. Anything that your eyes laid upon, he buys it, with or without your permission.

One Saturday morning, you woke up with a ringing phone. You grabbed it and answered without checking the caller's ID.

"Hello? Who is this? The sun is barely up..." You talked with eyes still closed, voice becoming faint. You heard a chuckle on the other side of the line. The voice registered to your brain, it was Choi Beomgyu, your boyfriend.

"Good morning sleepy head, happy anniversary." He greeted with such joy in his voice. Your once sleepy mind and body were fully awake now as you scrambled to sit up face palming your face. Remember how you set your alarm the night before to wake up early and be the one to greet him first but you ended up switching your phone off every time the alarm rang.

"I'm sorry, love, I wanted to be the one who greeted you first-- my goodness." You exclaimed as you mentally punched your head.

He chuckles once again as he tried to cheer you up, "It's fine baby, I know you are tired from work, it's too early to be upset"

"Happy anniversary, Beomie, I love you." You smiled and tried to sound more positive.

"I love you, princess. Oh, by the way, can you come alone here later? I might not be able to pick you up, I still have a lot more to prepare. Plus I'm planning to cook."

"Mmm, will do, baby. Don't worry." You answered as you stood up from your bed and placed your phone between your shoulder and cheek to make your bed.

"Are you sure though? I can still pick you up, you know, plus it's still early. We're gonna meet at 6 in the evening. I can make time." He asked.

"Beomie, you don't have to worry, really. I'm gonna finish my chores first, might run to a store and buy something before going straight to your place". You assured back.

"Okay then. I'll see you this evening, love. I'll be at work. I love you, take care of yourself." You answered with a sweet hum and a smile as if he could see you before he dropped the call. Beomgyu has been calling you different pet names, which did not even bother you a single bit. His sweetness shows through the way he calls you. You were so used to it that whenever he did not call you any, you knew that he was angry.

After finishing all your tasks and chores, you had to clean yourself up. Standing in the middle of your dresser, deciding on what you will wear.

You've been pondering already for half an hour. Digging every corner of your cabinet to look for something special to wear. You can't disappoint Beomgyu, especially today. He loves to spoil you and you love to show it off especially when you are with him. Well, he tells you to dress pretty all the time. If you were his wife already, he would have considered you a trophy wife.

Within a few minutes, you decided to wear the silk red designer dress he had recently bought you. It hugged every corner of your curves the right way. Although he did spoil you with so many accessories and wardrobes, he was not a fan of heavy makeup. He likes it simple. After dabbing some face powder and a gloss on your lips, you were good to go.

You immediately get up, and grab your phone, the gift you ordered a few days ago, your purse, and your car key. You were still planning to drop by a store nearby to buy some wine for the special night.

It was 10 minutes before 6 when you arrived at his place. "Hi love, how are you?" You greeted him as you placed the wine on the table that you brought from the store before you rushed to his side.

"I'm good princess. Maybe a bit exhausted. I doubled my work for my pretty girl", he smiled as he removed the apron wrapped around his waist. Repositioning the folded sleeves of his dress shirt.

"I'm almost done here, why not take a seat?" He approached you and kissed you while giving you a tight hug. "You look pretty..." His fingers brushed along your cheeks when he pulled away to look at you. "Happy anniversary" he muttered once again. You smiled at him as you tiptoed and gave him a quick kiss. "Happy anniversary Beomie" you giggled.

He pulled the chair for you and made you sit down, "could you wait for a couple minutes more? I'm almost done. " You nod at him.

You shared the evening with sweet talks and love lingering between the two of you. Sharing the food he cooked and the wine you bought.

"I have a gift for you." You said joyfully as you placed the glass of wine carefully on the table. "It might not be much, since you have everything." You playfully roll your eyes as you push the small box in front of him.

"You can open it now." You said as you clasped your hands near your cheeks. Excitement can be easily heard from your voice.

He carefully unwrapped the gift as if almost scared to destroy it. His eyes widened at the gift you gave him.

"Love, you didn't have to." His eyes softened when he looked at you. It was a wristwatch. It was nothing compared to everything he bought you. But this particular one was hard to find. He couldn't find it in the stores you both often go to. He dislikes online shopping, saying it's too much of a hassle. So, you, as a loving girlfriend, patiently search every single online shop you know, just to find this watch.

"It's nothing compared to everything you have given me, Beom." You held his hand and looked at him lovingly. He smiled sweetly at you as he sighed in defeat.

Beomgyu has always been a big fan of extravagance and elegance, and tonight, he was eager to show it off again to you. He asked you to close your eyes as he stood up to grab the gift he bought. When you opened your eyes, a beautifully wrapped box sat invitingly on the table.

“Open it,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. You excitedly open the box. Inside, you found the most exquisite lingerie—a lingerie that shimmered softly, and you bet it wouldn't cover you fully.

Your eyes are wide as you stutter to talk to him.

"L-love, what...what is this?" This is the lingerie your eyes always laid upon whenever you go to that one place with Beomgyu. You just always smile at yourself every time you see this, shaking off the naughty ideas building in your mind. But to hold it with your own hands, to be gifted it to you as your own, it makes you so shy.

“Try it on for me,” he urged, his excitement palpable. He crossed his arms on his chest as he stared at you, a smirk, once again, plastered on his face. You felt a rush of anticipation as you headed to his bedroom, slipping into the lingerie. Staring at your reflection in the mirror. Unsure if you want to go out and face him. Your cheeks show a visible bright hue of pink, and your ears red.

Beomgyu was the one to follow you when you did not show. Beomgyu’s expression was one of pure admiration. “Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look breathtaking.” The red lingerie is barely covering your chest, you are thankful that there was a free mini skirt cut of the lingerie that can cover you below.

He circled you slowly, taking in every detail, before leaning in to whisper, “Fuck, it fits you perfectly." He tucks your hair on the back of your ear. Your ears burn hot with embarrassment and with the sensation. Yes, you've been with Beomgyu for a while but you haven't taken it to the next level, aside from heavy make-outs of course, that's why you feel so small and embarrassed in front of him.

He made you face the big mirror again, as he stood at your back. He gently placed his arms on your neck. You couldn't help but whimper at how you looked. You shut your eyes as you felt a shiver down your spine.

"Fuck." He cursed once more, almost unheard. "Don't make a sound like that, sweetheart. I might not be able to control myself." He places his other hand on your waist, taking a dip where your neck and shoulder blades meet as he inhales your scent. "You smell so sweet."

"Beomgyu, please..." You can feel yourself trembling in his hands. He pulls away, making you frown a little bit. He walked towards the bed as he sat down on the edge.

"C'mere." He taps on his lap as you walk towards him. You swear you heard him mutter 'fuck's' and 'shit's' under his breath. You sat on his lap as he held your waist, letting his lips crash on yours. You clawed on his chest for the sensation you are feeling. The kiss he's giving you is careful but needy, gentle but hot. You both pull away, lips swollen, and steam can be felt between the two of you.

"Please tell me to stop now. I can't afford to hurt you." He closed his eyes as he tried to ground himself. With mustered-up courage, you slowly got off of him and started to get down instead.

"Sweetheart, I'm warning you." He tried to warn you as he held your wrist. You shook your head. "I've been dying to do this to you, Beomie". You stared up at him as you slowly unbuckled his belt.

"Fuck, please..." He bit his lips. Still trying to control himself. You raise his dress shirt a bit, enough for his abdomen to show.

You slowly stroke him when he finally lets go of your wrist.

"Ah! Shit- love, fuck." You can see how his abdomen clenches at the sensation. You lowered your head, giving him kitten licks, testing the waters, tasting his pre-cum. He held your hair, not enough to hurt you but enough to take control. He tried to lower your head more, making his tip be fully shoved into your mouth.

"Fucking hell. You look so pretty." He loosens his grip on your hair and carefully caresses your face, as you lean on his hand. He voluntarily removed the buttons of his shirt discarding it at the bedside.

His hands moved back to your head once again as he pushed you down a bit more making you whimper. He cursed once again as he felt the vibrating sensation from your mouth. "Are you okay?" He checks you. Only for him to moan again as you hum on his cock in your mouth. Once he knows you got used to him, he controls the moment of your head, making you clench on nothing. You are guessing he is almost coming undone when his voice gets a bit higher in pitch.

"Fuck, stop right there." He commanded, making you stop your movement. He pulled you up to kiss you once again, this time a bit more aggressive than the first one. He pulled away, only to press his thumb on your lips. "Hot.." you muttered, before sucking on his thumb. The action got Beomgyu reeling as his remaining self-control slipped out.

He made you stand up and lay down on the bed as he discarded his pants. You were not expecting him to go down on you but he is Beomgyu. The guy who always puts you first. The guy who always took care of you first instead of himself. His fingers swiftly removed the newly bought lingerie,

You trembled when you felt his tongue lap onto your cunt. He gripped your waist to stop you from squirming away from him.

"Beomgyu! Ah fuck! Fuck it feels so good!" The voice came out strained. He hums and looks up at you as he rubs a circular motion on your sensitive nub.

"Please, please Beomgyu! I-i'm gonna cum!" Your eyes well up with tears. As you beg him, unsure of what, you chant him as many please as your mouth can say.

He tasted a salty-sweet taste on his tongue as you come undone, fucking his tongue in and out of you as you ride your high.

"Give me one more, love, I know you can." He said as he once more made you cum on his tongue.

"You tasted so sweet. I might be addicted to your taste, damn."He mutters as he hovers over you, littering your neck with dark red and purplish marks. You tried to grind on him which he immediately felt and smiled.

"Never thought you'd be this eager. I should've bought that lingerie a long time ago if I only knew." He chuckled as he pressed a deep kiss on your still-swollen lips.

He supported his body up with his arms. Your eyes watched how his muscles flexed on both of his arms. You can't help but hold on to it knowing what is happening next.

"Should we stop, love? I have no condoms prepared. I really didn't know we were taking it up to-"

"Please take me raw." Your eyes pleading. You held his arms tighter. He stared at your love bites- littered body as he bit his lips.

"If you ask me like that, how can I even say no?". He held your cheeks for a while before totally discarding his boxers. "Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop. I want to ruin you but I don't wanna hurt you, darling." He sincerely said as he lined himself up at your entrance.

You never felt a sensation this good before. His raw flesh drags inside you slowly. "More. I can take it" you assured, shaking off the stretching pain you are feeling.

"Please tell me the truth. I think I'm hurting you, baby." He worries. You hug him closer as you ask him to fully push in. "Please push it in more, Beom. I need more.." you muttered, cock drunk, fucked out.

He can't help but to bit his lip and bottom out in you as he stared at your fucked out expression. "Fuckin' tight. You feel so good, wrapping around my cock, baby." He smirked at you. You avoided his gaze out of embarrassment as

"I'll start moving." He announced still staring at you as he slowly moved in and out. You are now a whimpering and a moaning mess in front of him. The pretty girl who once was pretty in his eyes when angry is now all fucked out. Unable to form coherent words as whimpers, whines, and moans are the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

"Ahh! Shit love, please stop clenching on me or I might cum inside you!" With a warning tone, he tries to stop you. But every time you hear him curse, you heard him moan as if on cue, as you were clenching on his cock. You can't help yourself but clench on him some more.

"I'm.. fuck.. fuck! Fuck Beomgyu! Oh god!" You were squirming under him, feeling every bit of his cock drag in your insides. It's giving you too much sensation you couldn't handle.

"Come on my cock then. Show me how much you love me, baby. Show me how much you can do for me." He himself can't help but move faster inside you with his high nearing.

You clawed on his arms making him wince as you come undone on his cock, body shaking, he held you closer as he fucks you more into your high, his white thick cum painting your walls. "Shit!" He exclaimed as his ears rang when he pushed more inside, making your lips quiver and your eyes shut close.

A few more seconds when he calmed down from his high he pulled out of you. Almost ran to the bathroom to grab a wet towel. In everything, he puts you first, cleaning you more than himself. He grabbed a shirt from his closet and made you slip it on to make you feel comfortable. He picked up his pants to wear them again as he laid beside you.

You mouthed 'Happy anniversary, love' before you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He chuckled as he pulled you closer and hugged you as he tucked you both under the blanket. Allowing you and himself to dive deep in sleep.

'This was a better gift than the watch, I guess', he thinks to himself.

@binniesbooks 2024

[dykeknightrises]

PROMISES

A/N: I'd just like to say that I'm in absolute awe about the reactions to FALLING, really! I was very hesitant to post something that I've wrote but now I can't help but to be super excited laknkdns Seriously, thank you guys SO much for it! Here's part two, I hope you enjoy it <3

PART 1 - FALLING

PART 3 - US

After a couple of years living the best and worst of her life, Alexia promised herself a break. A year where she would be one hundred percent focused on football and herself. She had a lot to catch up with her family and with being comfortable with herself after her injury.

Everything had been going fairly well on that front until Y/N arrived in Barcelona. Alexia remembered the bright-eyed teenager, far too young to be playing in the u-19 team, being playing great, nonetheless. Watching the teen leave absolutely everything even when they were down 4-0 made Alexia respect her immediately and to keep up with her career whenever she could.

The Y/N was far from the shy teenager that Alexia first met, but still so terrifyingly similar. Her first few weeks in Barcelona passed in a blur, but not a good one. The midfielder and the rest of the team barely interacted with the newest signing and when it happened, which was strictly at practice since she didn’t join them when they spend time together, it was mostly through the shortest sentences possible.

Alexia realized the smallest flinch from Y/N whenever someone spoke to her in Spanish. She didn’t mean to and was honestly certain nobody else, even yourself, realized it. Then every downed on her.

Her time playing with Espanyol and Levante was weird. She was still in her home, still in her country, still in her city, but everything was just so different. Her teammates, the team culture, everything made her doubt herself for the first few months. A new country, a new city, a new language, a whole new culture? Alexia could not fathom that.

Settling in making Y/N feel home, Alexia now spent most of her time dedicating herself to her. They were partners in every training drill, spending their time together doing the heavy speaking in English. When she was home, countless of hours on YouTube were split between watching highlights of Y/N through the years and on tutorials about the best ways to make someone feel welcomed.

She wasn’t sure why and at that point she didn’t care enough to ask, but she needed Y/N to feel at home in Barcelona. When her attempts were going well, but too slowly for her liking, she was running out of patience.

Walking Nala down the streets was something she was doing a lot lately, lost in thoughts about Y/N. The little furball got tired after twenty minutes of their walk, making Alexia pick her up, only then realizing where she was.

In front of her stood her favourite chocolate store, the best in the entire Spin if anyone asked her. Deciding to buy a bar a pick-me-up for the moment, she walked into the store, greeting to small family that owned the business and making small talk.

Picking the small bar of milk chocolate, her hand unconsciously hovered on a second one, for Y/N. With her own bar clutched in her hand, she stood in front on the chocolate bars display, not knowing which one was your favourite. After a few minutes of contemplation, she grabbed one of every single chocolate the store held, giving the owner a sheepish smile as the old man raised his eyebrows at her purchase.

It was a Thursday when she got the guts to approach Keira to ask such a random and somewhat personal question. The Englishwoman responding very confusedly, making Alexia bolt before she could ask any follow up question on why.

Going to her car to retrieve the precious bar on a break from practice, Alexia slipped it in her locker before any of the girls could see and went back. When training was over, she managed to catch up with Y/N on an empty hallway by the pitch, telling her that it was okay to be with the team even if you weren’t in “Spanish Mode” yet, they just wanted your presence.

When she sees the realization down on Y/N eyes, she confirms that she didn’t even realize what was happening. Knowing that, if you were anything like herself, a whole moment of self-reflection would follow the realization. Alexia slips that chocolate bar on her hands and squeezes her shoulder as she leaves.

The unknown feeling growing in her gut through the rest of the day and the next one too, unsure if she overstepped or not. It was the team’s first Friday off since preseason and she was so desperately uneasy about it, unsure if she made things worse.

Walking into their usual restaurant, Alexia felt her heart skip a beat as she hears Y/N laugh at something Frido said, the smile brighter than everything around. Settling herself in the seat in front of her, being greeted with a smile and a warm gaze, a silent “thank you” written all over it.

 It wasn’t long until everything was fitting together. The team quickly welcoming her into the family and their routine stronger than ever. It wasn’t until she refused the invitation to hang out with her friends for the sixth week in a row and got called out on it that Alexia realized that Thursdays had became their day.

She was fine with sharing Y/N with the team the whole time but was so deeply grateful to have her for herself on Thursdays. Sharing their passion for football, exploring the city, and cooking together had quickly became the favourite part of Alexia’s week.

Days bled into weeks, which bled into months, and everything was perfect. It wasn’t far from Winter Break when she went to lunch with the Putellas, this time without Y/N, and got asked where her girlfriend was that Alexia realized her feelings.

Loving Y/N was disturbingly easy, Alexia though laying in bed later that day. She’d been doing it for months now. Every moment of her days she wanted her there and every moment of her night she dreamt about her.

The warmness of her discovery was slowly cooled by the realization that had already broken her promise to herself. The heartbreak of her past relationships sucker puncher her into choking down a sob, knowing that she could not take that once again, not from Y/N.

The next month passed in a haze. Alexia felt like the biggest liar, and she smiled, making sure no one could see past it. It wasn’t until she reached home that she allowed herself to crack, suffering from a paralyzing fear of having her heart broken before she even gave it away once more.

It was on their Thursday that she felt herself cracking, knowing she couldn’t be alone with Y/N, cuddled up on a couch, being surrounded by her. Texting her asking to go out instead was easy, choosing Sala Apollo came unconsciously because, even if she could be alone with Y/N, she still did not want to share her on their day.

Breathtaking. Jaw dropping. Beautiful.

Words only came to Alexia brain a few beats after Y/N opened her door or them to go out. A stutter complimenting her was the only thing the Catalonian managed to slip out before she was dragged out of the apartments complex by hand and getting in the Uber.

The decision to drink that night was a well though out one. On one hand she felt like she needed a couple of drinks to function near the younger woman that moment, but she was well aware that her inhibitions lowered considerably. She chose to drink.

Dancing with her, Alexia felt every single part of her on fire. Whenever the touched, for the briefest seconds, her heart skipped a beat, and her breath was taken away. Hands slipping on Y/N waist, pulling her closer, was a necessity.

When Y/N perfume hit her nostrils, Alexia knew she was gone. Losing any shred on self-control, Y/N was the entire world right now. Hands roaming, lips finding the skin on her neck, sucking, and biting like her life depended on it. Maybe it did. Y/N turned around to kiss her and when their lips met Alexia was sure she was in heaven.

Going home, staying up the whole night, discovering each other in so many ways was everything Alexia ever dreamed of. The warm, sweaty tanned skin against her, made her overflow. She was everything.

Waking up on the next day to a cold bed made her choke. Reality crashed down, eyes glassing as she though she was being left once again. Minutes passed, with Alexia trying desperately to not cry before she heard the noise in the kitchen.

Slipping a shirt in, she stopped on the threshold, watching Y/N happily making them breakfast. Somehow, that made her hurt more. The thought that she could have left, that she the worst of you for just keeping their routine. It made her feel sick.

She knew then that she was not ready. The feelings she held for those tortuous moment where far worse than any previous heartbreak. Just the thought that Y/N left almost broke her. Alexia knew right then that she could not be with Y/N right now, no matter how much she ached for her.

Alexia was not enough for Y/N right now.

When she turned around, spotting her tucked in a corner of her own apartment, Y/N looked at her like she hung the sun, the moon and everything else. Her breathes came out ragged as Y/N came closer, warm smile and sparkling eyes still in place.

“This was a mistake.” Alexia choked out before she came any closer. The Spaniard knew that any poor excuse that she came would never be enough.

Y/N steps haltered, no more then a couple of meters away from her, lips parting and heart breaking. Alexia could see the younger woman opening and closing her mouth, frown in place, trying to come up with an answer.

“Oh.” The word came out in a breathless sound, after what felt like a whole eternity. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Y/N” The blonde called, holding the other woman’s wrist, desperately not wanting her to go, despite messing everything up.

“It’s okay, Alexia. We will be okay. We are okay.” She said, slipping her wrist out of Alexia’s grasp, shutting the door after her.

She took her heart with her. Any will to do anything and joy left right after them. Falling to the floor, on the same corner that everything became a mess, Alexia let herself be mess too. Sobs wreaking her body for hours, only getting up to crawl to bed when night came.

Days came and went, turning into weeks, and Alexia was still broken. She could not look at Y/N without breaking. That was reserved for the privacy of her place, where she didn’t have to be the Alexia Putellas, where she wasn’t a symbol of strength. Strong was the last thing she felt in those months.

Months passed by before Alexia even saw anyone after practice. She missed team bonding, birthdays, media duties, her own family. A knock on the door broke her out of the pit of misery of the day, making her drag her feet through the floor, feeling like her legs weighted a thousand kilos.

The grinning face of her childhood best friend greeted her when she opened the door. The grin quickly lost the place when Ana actually saw her. Pushing past her and settling down on the couch after opening a bottle of wine, the woman looked at her with an expectant gaze.

Alexia knew she could tell her the truth. Ana was her friend enough to just call her stupid and tell her to beg for forgiveness. But she didn’t know Y/N, didn’t know Alexia’s feelings. So, the blonde settled for a lie.

Maybe the lie was too good, because the very next day, she showed up with her girlfriend and another woman. A surprise double date, she said. The woman was great, there was nothing wrong with her. In fact, Alexia was sure that if she did not love Y/N so deeply she would have giver her a chance. But she was not her.

The next day, a Friday, Mapí and Marta coaxed the date out of her. Not that it was much to tell, Alexia herself was only half present for it, but it was enough. Enough because Y/N arrived in the locker room just as the defenders teased her about it. Y/N lips trembled when she heard the word date and that was enough to bring tears that were never shed to Alexia’s eyes.

She cancelled lunch with her family again on the weekend. She hadn’t gone back ever since they asked her about Y/N, too scared that they would see her, that they knew. Preparing herself for another day the bare minimum for herself, her door opened. Alba standing on the doorstep. Alexia never saw her baby sister look so angry.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Alexia?” the younger sister growled, entering the apartment. “Mamá is pit of worry because you look like someone has been running over you with their car everyday for the past year!”

“I’m sorry.” Alexia choked, flinching away from her sister.

She didn’t even realize that the tears, her current best friend, has already spilled out of her eyes and found home running down on her cheeks until Alba cradled her face, holding her in a hug. They laid on the comfortable couch for hours before Alexia managed to stop crying, her sister not laxing her hold for any second, whispering quiet reassurances at her every few moments.

“Ale, what’s going on?”

“I fucked it up.” She breathed out, before telling her everything.

That day was months ago. Surprising her, Alba didn’t judge her, didn’t jump the gun as usual, she held her, reassured her and gave really good advice. Which brought her to now.

Alexia spent the last few months talking extensively to her therapist about it, about everything. Her heartbreak, her injury, falling in love again. She wasn’t better yet, but she was in a much better place than before. More than wanting Y/N to love her back again, she needed her in her life, even if she had thrown away her only chance of them spending their lives together.

Today marked a whole month that Alexia came every day to Y/N doorstep, looking at the piece of wood that stood between her and the love of her life for hours, too much of a coward to knock. Finishing the cup of coffee that the awfully familiar doorman gave her from his on stash, she got up, standing in front of the door.

She had been in that exact place far too often, never knocking. Lifting her fist, she banged against the door before loosing her courage once again, like she had done far too many times.

Y/N opened her door and took Alexia’s breath away. She stood there, with a little black dress, light makeup coating her face and heels that put her just a little bit shorter than the Catalonian. The blonde felt her mouth dry at the sight of her, hands trembling away, tucked into her hoodie.

She felt like she had stood there, forever, just taking Y/N in, appreciating her, breathing her in. The younger woman was everything. She had always been everything. Her impossibly soft gaze, even now, asked Alexia what she was doing there.

“I was hoping we could have our usual Thursday? I have a lot that I need to say to you.”

[slickchickchocolatier]

Hsjaksis this idea has been in my brain for so long but imagine demon heeseung who watches little church girl y/n ever since she turned of age, he's smitten,he wants her but also knows that her purity is too strong and he can only touch her body if she gives him permission,so he has to use deception. Pretend to be someone else to earn ur trust, making u suck on his fingers by telling u that it will earn u god's grace. Overall heavy on corruption if u catch my drift. He will slowly prepare you for himself cuz u r oh so sweet and innocent completely unaware of the pleasures of the human body

”A Test of Will.”

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, corruption, deception, demonic HS x Y/N. Stealing y/n's virginity, possessiveness, secret admiring, cursing, I think that's it.

I apologize it took me so long to post. I got super jet-lagged after our flight back home the other day. But without further ado, here is (sorry it's not proofread) the one shot, "A Test of Will." REQUESTED.

Begin Read:

For as long as you can remember, you loved and praised God, taught to submit into his will whenever he desired or called upon you. As a young girl, you wanted nothing more than to become a bride of Jesus and yearned to remain everlasting and pure. It was a life you loved and respected, being the daughter of a pastor and the wife of a devoted homemaker. From the moment you understood speech, and emotional love, it had always been ingrained in your head to please him and only him.

So, you did.

The first moment you realized the importance of your obedience to the Holy spirit was after you turned seven and your family coordinated your Baptism at the local church, one your family had been attending for years. Donning all white, looking as angelic as the Renaissance paintings, you gained holiness and rebirth as God's child, watching as everyone gathered around and sang praises and cheers. It was a joyous event that displayed your conformance to the standards of God's holy will. Among the chanting choir, one particular guest lurked from above, watching with intrigue. Despite being uninvited, he remained to observe the Holy ritual while being unheard and unseen.

He hovered high above, over the large grand fountain, and watched as the priest gently dipped your frail body in the water, allowing you to rise and take your first breath. Seeing how you smiled delicately, accepting your dedication to fulfilling God's will, creates a smirk in defiance to form gracefully on his dark lips. Now, this ritualistic occurrence was not unique to him, but he could care less, for the event wasn't the reason for his stay. It was you that he was interested in. Your innocence appealed to him, and the strength of your devotion, especially at such a young age, what an enchanting young girl you were. Perhaps he'll possess you and devour your soul while you sleep, letting you die while he tucks your spirit away for safe keeping.

Spreading his wings wide, they rested against the cathedral ceiling; the darkness of the spikes and bat-like features looked as if it smeared the face of the great mother Mary and baby Jesus, tainting their warm faces with the hue of black and blood red. His lithe frame is sharply adorned in an all-black suit with fingerless gloves, while his hair is stained royal purple. Gravity did not affect his demonic nature; no one would have been able to notice him even if he decided to become visible to the mortal eye. He took on a perfect stance of a straight stand, parallel to the roof of the ceiling, with arms carelessly crossed and a raised hand stroking his lips by the lead index. Chuckling, he becomes amused and admires your happiness in becoming one of them, another tribal animal that falls into the pretenses of spiritual love and devotion, neglecting the nature of your mortal existence and desire. That won't do for him, considering he can only devour your spirit when it is strong in faith.

……………..

Years have passed since then, and the hellish guest permanently remained in your life, unbeknownst to you. It was enjoyable for him to watch you grow, molding into a prideful young woman. He admired your dedication but grew infatuated by your stubbornness. You had no problems remaining vigilant in keeping your chastity, but it wasn't easy. As you came of age, you longed for a sense of touch and physical companionship. Most times, you continued to plow through life with your dedication strong and steady, yet some moments you questioned if you were doing enough, feeling complacent with your current path and therefore drifting in thought, wondering if there is more to life than just serving the Lord.

It had hit you hard upon graduating high school, you realized that your greatest wish was to do more, thus furthering your motivation to stay on the current course. Especially after observing your peers, watching them take part in dating, following the natural courses of love, marriage, and family life. You did everything you could to take your mind off it, from actively volunteering in holy community services to leading Bible study every day, but none of it gave you the strength you needed to stay engaged with your dedication to God. Unfortunately for you, he had sensed it and took great delight watching as you tried fighting off your instinctive desires as a mortal woman.

There were times when his invisibility was clicked on or off, depending on his mood, yet it didn't matter for each time that he was present, he remained undetected. Whether it was appearing as the air itself, or disguising as one of your friends, teachers, or even your parents, he gained interaction to hear how lovely your voice became with age. He had found you peculiar upon discovering you as a young girl, but seeing how you grew into the dedicated young woman you are today, he was obsessed. Who could have ever thought that demons could gain affection and desire for humans? It wasn't natural nor was it normal, but there is a first for everything, including him. The last straw was when he lay, relaxing himself on your bedspread, watching as you remained oblivious to his unobtrusive presence. Figuring you were going to conduct your normal routine in changing inside your closet space, he relaxes on your bedding, already knowing that your inclusive habit was due to your shyness in changing out in the open, despite being nestled in the privacy of your room…or so you thought.

It's true, that you have made a habit of changing in discrete areas such as your closet or your bathroom, but time has an effect on everyone, even God's most dutiful child. Sure, you were still fruitful and pure, but as you matured, you found it nearly silly

you weren't as shy as you were before. You were a fully, blossomed young woman who helped and loved her family and had prospects to attend the university of your choice in the oncoming months, all with the attending hopes of joining a nunnery and becoming a bride of his holiness.

His brow raises when he notices you undressing. Shifting his gaze, he looked confused for a moment as you broke out of your traditional habit, and stripped off your clothing delicately until you reached full nudeness. It takes a lot for him to become shaken, it's never happened before, but you accomplished a feat that many, including the demons of Hell, found impossible to achieve. There he lay, iris expanding and glowing red as he noted the suppleness of your soft skin, how you tenderly removed your skirt, blouse, and the undergarments that cradled your luscious breasts and the simple white lace that protected the heart of your core. It was at that moment for the first time since he discovered you, he realized that he was not just intrigued, but obsessed with having you. His infatuation develops into something deeper and stronger upon seeing your bare form, he had to keep you, shower you with his darkness, and hide your lightened heart away for only him to admire.

………………

"Y/N, come here sweetheart, and meet the new priest who has graciously volunteered his services to our church."

You had just returned from your college orientation and noted an unfamiliar umbrella staged by the front door upon entry. Your steps were timid, but you approached the living room steadily, catching sight of your mother and father both speaking to a tall figure, with his back facing you. Your mother catches your entry and bids you to introduce yourself, and you had every means of doing so gracefully, until he turned around.

"Y/N, this is Father Ethan, he has come from far away and is blessing our church with his devotion and preaching of God." Your father added on, continuing your mother's praise of the rather young-looking man that stood before you. He had dark, shiny black hair, was lean, and had a handsome face; for a priest, he was unlike any holy servant you had ever seen before. He was Asian, though you couldn't pinpoint which national region his ethnic background came from, and didn't probe to ask as it would have been too rude. You smiled sweetly and finally gulped faith before emitting your first words in greeting him.

"It's…nice to meet you, Father Ethan. My name is Y/N…."

"Well hello, it's very nice to finally meet you, Y/n. Your parents were spending the last hour boasting about you."

Looking over to your parents, Father Ethan displays a sly smirk as he crosses his arms and swings his body before returning his gaze to your direction. Your parents nod with approval and gleam proudly. You couldn't be entirely sure but there was something strange about your meeting with Father Ethan; there was an unusual level of attraction that you felt towards, and from him.

The next day, you carried out your diligent duties in leading Bible study for the younger age group. Walking in, you immediately became aware of the stark emptiness inside; no one was around, yet the candles were lit. Making your way down the aisle, you looked around and peeked between the benches, only to find that the main hall was just as empty. You stood before the holy cross, admiring the small statues and chalices that decorate the platform where the priest conducted his prayer and Biblical lecture, when suddenly a deep voice emerges from behind you. "You're here for Bible study?"

Sharply turning, you set your eyes on Father Ethan. He stood straight and tall, wearing a casual black suit with a white undershirt, partially unbuttoned. "Oh, I'm sorry Father, I didn't know you were here."

"Pay no mind, and no need to apologize." he slyly smiles in response.

Surrendering a faint nod, you smiled sweetly before clearing your throat. "Are the children here?"

"Oh you mean the ones you're leading for the lecture? I'm afraid not, everyone had prior engagements set in stone and couldn't make it."

Stroking his chin, he flares his infamous smirk once more, locking his gaze and finding you heavenly and delectable.

"You know…y/n….your diligence and faith towards God is astonishing."

"It is?"

"Mmhmm…I wonder if there is anything you wouldn't do, all in the name of your love for him."

Your eyes slightly widen as you lean in, enhancing the value of your statement. "There isn't…I would do anything to show my loyalty and to become closer, I intend to be a bride of God."

"You want to be a nun?"

Nodding, you shifted your gaze to the side upon feeling his gaze examining you with intrigue.

"Interesting." Walking towards you, his hand reaches down and gently cups your cheek. Just as he expected, your skin was soft and supple, the strands of your hair grazing against his knuckle felt like silk threads, and you warmed his coldness in an instant. "Hm…pretty."

You were taken aback by his statement, as he displays a devious smile. "No-no…it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you…in fact, I'm here to help you to get closer…"

"Closer to God?" your eyes began to water, yet you couldn't help it, you became curious by his rather bold statement. Chuckling, he bites down on his lower lip and steps back. "You wanna see proof?… You wanna see a miracle…y/n?"

Nodding once more, you watch as he takes one of the empty chalices in his hand and flicks it. The chime of the brass echoes through the main hall and into the massive foyer. Presenting it to you, you gently cradle the cup in both hands and become stunned upon seeing that the chalice was filled with blood-red wine. "I-is….is this?…. How?" You snapped your gaze over to him, curious for an explanation as you were quite sure the chalice was empty a moment ago.

"Are…you an….are you an angel?… Father Ethan?"

"Something like that." tilting his head, he continues to flash his devilish smile before whispering once again, "Something….like that."

Looking down at the chalice, you smile softly. "Can I ask why you're here?"

Playfully rolling his eyes to the side, he shrugs his shoulders before emitting an answer. "Just here to help preach his desire."

"….What is his desire?"

"You really want to know?"

"…..Yes…."

Snapping his hand forward, he snags your wrist and rapidly pulls you close, pressing you chest to chest. "First…." he softly lets out into your ear before he slowly licks the nook of your neck.

"Father! W-what…!"

"Shh….I said…everything is going to be alright…don't you trust me?….If you don't, I guess I can leave and you'll be forever marked in his eye as someone who went against his will…."

Gasping, you desperately voiced out your objection. "No! That's not true! I would do anything for him, even if it meant giving up my happiness. That's how much I love him."

"Huh…that right?" Rolling his tongue, he tilts his head and peers his gaze into yours. "You know what would make him happy?"

"….No…would you tell me?"

"Its easier if I showed you…come here."

Gripping your shoulders, he straightens your posture and squares you up with his frame. He leans in and places a soft and sensual kiss on your neck, stirring a vibrating sense to riddle deep inside your gut. Giving you the thrill of passion, he presses his parted lips against yours and harshly breathes out, coating your skin with the warmth of his exhale. Slowly, his tongue trails through his mouth, feeding its way through your lips and smears his saliva over your tongue and cheek. Your brows furrow in fear and worry, but slowly transitions into delight once you reminded yourself of how Father Ethan was bringing you closer to God, or so he says. No one could blame you, after all, seeing his talent with what he did to the chalice was proof enough that he was not an ordinary person. But what was he exactly?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his grip changes, holding your firmly by your waist while he buries his tongue deeper. As soon as you let out a gasping moan, he takes things a step further by smoothing his palms over every curve of your body. Hesitant, you try to push yourself away, yet his hold on you remained strong and he continues to shower you with the passion of his sinful touch. "Stay close to me, I promise I'll show you heaven."

"O-okay…." you faintly whispered, unable to make any sense of what was going on. You knew that what he was doing was a sin, something your parents had warned you to avoid. However, when he began feeding his hand under the hem of your dress, and smother your neck and chin with his dangerous kisses, you faltered at the sensation, keeping in mind that you were displaying your loyalty to God and his will.

"F-Father Ethan…I…I can't breathe…" you whimper as he forces your head to tilt back, allowing him a wider range to lick and nibble the skin on your throat. "It's okay, I'll fix that in a second." He mumbles.

Turning you around, he was abrupt and rough with his movements, he could tell that you didn't seem to mind, at least it didn't sound like it. Since he started to rub your inner thighs, your pitch sounded more pleasurable and less fearful. Either you were too trusting towards him, or you were melting at the feeling of being ravished by his hands and mouth.

Piercing your entry, you gasped in shock upon realizing that his hand had made its way under your panties, taking advantage of your partially exposed cavity. "Wait! Wh-what are you doing!?" you gasped out, placing your hands on his shoulders as he inserts his fingers, lifting you upwards in the process. "Dont worry…its all in his will, remember?" Father Ethan smirks as he burrows his face into your neck, groaning against your skin. "You wanna be closer to heaven, riiiiight?" Gripping a handfull of your hair, he forcefully tilts your head to the side and bites, "Ah! That hurts!" Resetting your position, he looks down at you under heavy lids, his smirk completley gone but the lust in his eye remains. "Tell you what, if you're good, I'll show you my wings."

You looked up, completely bewildered. "You have…wings?" He nods his head as he pets your hair, it was at that moment you were convinced he really was an angel. Sensing your instant will and obedience, he ignores in confirming the validity of your submission and instead, turns you around while ripping your dress in half. Shredding off your undergarments, you cover yourself as you stood fully nude with his frame pressing against you from behind. "Did you know that you've been lied to all your life?" kissing your back, he leaves a lengthy trail down your spine as he plasters his lips onto your skin.

"W-what do you mean?" You ask in all earnesty, trying to refrain from releasing your desperate moans of pleasure as you relish in the sensation of each kiss. With his lips pressed onto your lower back, he grips the back of your thighs before mumbling against you, giving a slight tickle. "God would never demand that his creations to be so ignorant as to dismiss their instinctive will to learn the life lessons of pleasure, pain, and happiness. It's what humans are meant to do in their short lifespan." Biting down, you felt the sting of his demeanor on the back of your shoulder. "I'm sure he appreciates the spiritual faith in his name, but what good is flesh and blood if not without the practice of tasting, feasting, and desiring the need to touch and be touched."

Counterattacking his resolve, you whimper your words, trying your best to maintain composure. "Flesh and blood is all but a facade, its our will that remains everlasting and true."

Chuckling, you feel his teeth against the back of your neck as he responds in amusement. "Hmph…that right? Well then princess, let's see if we can break that will of yours."

He wastes no time and begins to insert his lengthy shaft into your womanhood. Even though you hadn't given him consent, you weren't resisting to the act, so long as he kept his promise in bringing you closer to God, among other things. True, you wanted to be closer, you wanted to see Father Ethan's wings, and you wanted to enter heaven, but there was also the longing built up within you that desired for him to do more. The feeling of his thickness filling you became the most painful and pleasurable sensation you've ever felt; you nearly questioned how you could have gone so long without experiencing it, when a quick thrust on his part pinched you with sharp pain.

"Ugh….it-it hurts! F-Father Ethan…."

"Call me Heeseung baby." Be breathes out in a low groan.

"He-Heeseung?"

Noting your perfect pronunciation, he showers you with praise as he continues to lick your neck. "Very good. You have a gift of tongues, don't you?"

Fully leaned forward, he coats your back with his chest, sealing his muscle as he stuffs his entire girth in between your wet folds. "Ready to see Heaven?"

You hesitated for a second, but nodded as your body shook vigorously from the immense pressure. "Alrighty then." he smirks, just as he starts his thrusts back up. "Wow…you're fucking perfect, aren't you?"

He starts slow, but picks up the pace as he continues to pump his lengthy cock in and out of your entry. The bulging tip harshly taps against a sweet spot that lays dormant inside of you, something you never knew existed until now. In and out, he steadily increases the pace, the sound of your skin wrapping his, squelching as he thrusts ferociously with the hidden intentions of staining your internal spirit with the darkness of Hell. He goes faster, your body jolts forward as he slams his cock deep inside each time, with his thighs slamming against your own and his groin popping against your derriere. Lost in the whirlpool of erotic pleasure, your moans were interrupted as you felt his fingers crawling up, around your neck, and onto you chin. Tapping his finger against your lips, he lets out an indiscriminate tone and smirks out another one of his chuckles. "Open." Bidding to his demand, you part your lips and watch as he slips his index in and rubs the inside of your cheek. "Good girl…"

Just as you started to question his claims, his voice punctures your thoughts when he asks you, "Can you see them?"

Never losing his momentum, he continues to pump his cock, disrupting the tightness and elasticity of your feminine virtue, jerking your body back and forth from his performance. Confused by his formulation, you were about to bid him to elaborate when suddenly you saw the glowing of spheres surrounding your bodies. Thrusting, your body motions forward and back as he pulls you by the hips, making it nearly impossible for you to admire the majestic beauty of what appeared to be stars, encircling you.

"W-what….ugh!"

"I told you, didn't I?…I'd show you heaven…"

Seeing the evidence of what you could only surmise as divine intervention, you submit fully by extending your arms overhead and plastering your forearms against the wall, spreading your legs even more and allowing him unbarricaded access. Arching your back, you perk your rear cheeks upward, wanting to see and feel more.

"Yeah? Bet you wanna see more, don't you?" he scoffs in between his growls. Nodding, you bend and submit every inch of your will and begged him to do more. "Huh….if only everyone you know could see you right now….what would dear mommy and daddy think if they were to see their precious daughter getting fucked…hmm?" Following his words, he speeds up his thrusts as he firmly grips the center of your throat. "Keep yourself steady baby….you feel so fucking tight like this."

Following his instructions, you keep yourself arched as you feel his thrusts going in deeper and harder. His fingers rubbing the side of your neck as he holds you down, pinning you against the wall while he takes advantage in fully penetrating you. The more he did, the more you saw. Soon the entire hall was filled with the glowing spheres; you watched as they fluttered around and looked too beautiful to be real. They had to be angels; small and delicate cherubs that were enhancing the legitimacy of his claims.

In between your pleading moans, you faintly smile as you felt wholesome in seeing what others could not, all due to giving yourself up to this man. Letting him continue, he delightfully takes you in and punctures your entry for hours, painting your skin blue, purple, and red by his licks and nibbles. He kept going and going, your body became numb and the pleasure wore off, the only thing you could feel at this point was prickling pain and sting, yet each time he sensed your weakened state, he taunted you with his words, teasing as he scoffs them out. "Are you giving up on me? Should I stop?"

You shook your head every single time, maintaining your stance so that you could continue to be closer to your faith, to which he would respond with a chuckle, and a dark decree. "Gonna fucking break you to pieces, girl."

You barely had enough time to process his word's let alone respond, all due to his last and final effort in increasing his speed. "Oh fuck you feel so good…going to make me cum."

With tears staining your cheeks, you shook your head as you helplessely leaned your head against the wall's surface, already having done too much to suddenly stop now, not that he would ever let you. Punching your internal gut, he goes faster, deeper, and harder. Your breasts bounce fiercly as your hair flies forward, your skin tainted red as he drags his nails and digs them in. Reaching your breaking point, a sharp, stabbing sensation pierces your clit as overstimulation takes effect from the constant throbbing of his cock. "Please! No more! I-I cant!"

Your scream was all he needed to hear before he releases, fully submerging his cock deep as he groans into your ear. "My little slut...you feel me turning us into parents?" Filling you, your walls become stained by the creaminess of his seed, the warmth of it all eases you inside and out. When he was finally done, he slowly exits, releasing his grip and letting you drop to the floor. You whimper as you lay weakened, your womanhood destroyed and beaten, and all he did was stand feircly tall as he smiled deviously. Grabbing hold of his cock, he slowly strokes it as he watches you faintly struggle up. "How pretty…I'm going to have fun keeping you all to myself."

Looking up, you tearfully watch as his blackened hair turns purple, his eyes glowed dangerously red, and his lips darken. The white spheres around suddenly turned black, formulating into wild shapes of various demons with jagged teeth and elongated tongues that practically reached the floor. Beyond frightened, you gasped out a series of whimpers as you used your arms to back away, only to meet with the wall behind.

"What?…Scared?" he chuckles, taking his steps closer to you. "Didn't I promise to show you my wings? My pretty...pretty....pretty wife..."

Furrowing your brows, you looked at him mercifully when he abruptly stretches his neck. From left to right, a series of cracks could be heard as he hovers his chin over each shoulder, his lids remained partially shut, revealing the rolling of his eyes towards the back of his head; with a subtle groan, he releases his bat-like wings as they extend high and wide. Covering your mouth, you gasp in horror as you begin to sob hysterically. What have you done? Who was he and just what did you allow him to do to you? The entire afternoon spent with him taking away your purity.

"Y-you're….you're not an angel…." you muttered out, watching as he reopens his eyes and tilts his head. Gazing at you with a smirk that pitied your oblivious state of mind, his eyes drift and takes in the miraculous sight of you from head to toe. He loved how broken and helpless you looked, trapped against the wall as you attempt to cover your breasts and bring your closed legs in. With a pleading tone, you asked with sweet innocence in your voice as your eyes pushed out fresh tears. "A-are you….the Devil?"

Smirking, he takes in a final step and kneels down before you, leaning in for a kiss. Holding your head steady by a fistful of hair, he gently pulls your head back, and whispers before sealing your fate eternally, having special plans in store for when he brings you back home with him, leaving you unfound and forever a mystery in the world you were born into.

With a deep tone, his lips brush against your own as he responds…

"Something like that…"

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

[argisthebulwark]

Did I Find You, Or You Find Me?

summary: Due to forces outside of your control, you've found yourself stuck in an arranged marriage. f!reader, no y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Arnbjorn warnings: they're long lol. alcohol consumption, not super healthy relationship dynamics, a bit suggestive a/n: i meant to put some more fellas in here but tumblr was struggling to load this draft so i'll have to do a part two masterlist

Brynjolf

Born as the middle daughter of the Black Briar family you are fully aware of their interactions with the Thieves Guild. You've watched your mother meet with Brynjolf, catching glimpses when you're instructed to carry in stacks of paperwork or clearing away empty wine bottles after a long negotiation. His flirtatious remarks remarks leave you breathless, never going further than a shared smile or brushing shoulders in the hall.

As a middle child, you've often found yourself in an odd position - you're an adult and are expected to handle many responsibilities, yet still infantilized by your siblings. Often forgotten between Sibbi and Ingun's rebellions and Hemming's single minded dedication to the family, you're expected to pick up the pieces without making a fuss.

"We need to solidify our ties with the Thieves Guild." Mother's sharp voice interrupts your dinner. You nod along, picking at your potatoes and planning out the rest of your week. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty four."

"Oh, good!" The excited tone of her voice rouses suspicion. You peek up at your mother, heart ramming against your ribs - she's never taken an interest in your life before. This can lead nowhere good.

You can only hope that silence will make her forget you. Her schedule is usually so full that you're allowed to exist out of her eyeline - taking a few extra moments in the market to flip through some books or visiting Ingun in the alchemy shop to chat. There is joy to be found in those small moments when you escape from her calculated gaze.

Of course this doesn't happen. Before the week is out you find yourself standing in the Temple of Mara, heart in your throat and siblings snickering from the pews. The handsome thief is gentle when he holds your hands, voice a bit shaky as he reiterates every vow back to the priest.

Returning to the Ratways feels odd. You part from your family, ink drying on the many contracts as Brynjolf - your husband - leads you through the Cistern. You feel a bit like you're floating as the events of the day settle on your mind. Panic chokes out all rational thought - who will ensure that the animals are fed and organize the contracts in your absence?

"I'm sorry - this all happened so fast, you may need to show me around once more when my mind stops spinning." You can't recall half of what he's pointed out and your feet are aching. You gulp, staring up at Brynjolf's kind eyes.

"Don't worry, lass." That soft grin makes your heart race when he shows you the private quarters, a small room branching off from the tavern. "We're in the same boat, you've got me."

With each day that passes, that knot in your chest lessens. The anxiety shrinks as you settle into your new life, finding the lack of routine comfortable - no list of chores awaits you, no one calls for you to sit in on meetings. After twenty four years of responsibility it is terrifying to realize that no one expects anyone from you.

Despite all the initial fears you find yourself flourishing. Far from your mother's prying eyes you discover that you enjoy hearing stories from the other thieves, Vex and Delvin teaching you a few tricks and Tonilia offering to scrounge up a set of armor. No longer are you Maven's daughter or Hemming's sister - you are yourself.

Brynjolf maintains a respectable distance, never straying too far but making no moves toward romance. He acknowledges that your partnership is just that - an agreement set forth by others, it is not a true marriage. He joins you for dinner each night, finding himself eager to hear about what you've done that day.

"What did you mean back then?" You finally ask, surprised at how steady your voice has become. Brynjolf's gaze still makes your heart flutter but you no longer feel the need to shrink away from it.

"By what, lass?"

"When you said we're in the same boat."

"Ah." He leans closer, voice conspiratorially low. Your cheeks flush when his fingers dance over yours, barely a touch. "Well, I'm guessin' you weren't exactly excited by the prospect of marrying a stranger, yeah?"

"It wasn't my first choice."

"Wasn't part of my plan, either." You hate how your stomach drops at the admission. Of course you're aware that he hadn't truly wanted you, but that knowledge does little to soothe the sting.

"Delvin's too old and Vex hates dealin' with your mother." His eyes drop to where your fingers have twisted together, the toes of his boots brushing yours. "I didn't plan on it bein' me but I couldn't stomach the thought of anyone else marryin' you."

The weeks blend into months, changes in your life slow but steady. Brynjolf sets aside time each week to teach you how to wield a dagger. Your beds scoot closer and you stay up later talking, candles burning down to nubs while you share every little shred of yourselves. He tells you of this the people he's lost and you share the desperation you've always felt for more, blushing when he jokes about the fulfilling life of a thief.

Your confidence continues to blossom the longer you're away from your family, brave enough to disregard a direct summons from your mother. Somewhere she is steaming, Hemming probably cursing your name at her side. It's freeing to realize how little you care.

"Proud of you, lass." Brynjolf grins when you bounce up to him, excitedly recounting how cool it felt throwing her letter in the fire. His hand is warm when it cups your cheek. "How should we celebrate?"

A bit drunk on your newly found courage, you kiss him. You've thought about it for months, stomach fluttering when you first noticed the way his eyes linger on you. It's quick and your lips tingle a bit when your husband chuckles, already leaning in for another.

Miraak

"All of our efforts to reign in Miraak have failed." Arngeir's eyes pin you in place. Your ass is going numb from those stone seats but there's no escaping this conversation. "Dragonborn, the Jarls continue to call for action."

"I have tried everything to defeat Miraak."

"Yet we remain unsuccessful." Biting your tongue barely contains the multitude of protests. Your body bears scars from the many times you've faced Miraak and his cultists, brain addled by the ages you'd spent combing through Apocrypha's twisting hallways.

"Miraak has a clear interest in you." Borri chimes in, voice hoarse from lack of use.

"He speaks the truth, Dragonborn." Arngeir concurs. "We have formulated a new plan. The Jarls have approved, as have many leaders from Solstheim."

"Wonderful." You grumble, hauling yourself to your feet. Might as well start preparing. "What is this new plan of attack?"

"You will offer yourself to Miraak."

"Your plan is to sacrifice me?" The shrill tone of your voice echoes off the stone walls. "How will my death resolve anything?"

"Not as a sacrifice. As a bride."

Despite your many protests, it seems that Miraak could not pass up an opportunity to get under your skin. He agrees to the proposition - you become his partner and he scales back the attacks on civilians. The rage becomes almost mind numbing. You cannot believe that this plan is being enacted, that your elders are offering you up for the mere promise of peace.

When Arngeir bustles you out the door he instructs you to slay the First Dragonborn. His voice is stern when he informs you that you will not be welcomed back to Skyrim's shores until Miraak is dead. The old men don't listen to a single protest that passes your lips, somberly shaking their heads and claiming that this is the last resort. Their trust is placed in you.

There is no ceremony, no hint of romance - just your stack of books and a bout of seasickness as you're ferried to Solstheim. Cultists meet you at the dock, Raven Rock entirely silent as too many pairs of eyes watch them escort you to Miraak's palace. You walk with your chin held high and pray that no one notices the fear simmering just under your skin.

Miraak's glare tracks each move you make as you prowl through his manor. You keep your distance, intent on finding some hidden weakness that will break him without rousing too much suspicion. You circle one another, neither willing to break the peace and strike first. Even when you are alone he maintains some sort of mask - always obscuring at least half of his face, never giving you a full view.

Meals are silent except for thinly veiled threats. Doors to both bed chambers are locked and barred each night. You find comfort in his library, sprawling shelves holding volumes thought long lost and safe from the mind bending power of Apocrypha. On days when you grow too exhausted to search you tuck yourself away into a secluded corner of the library and read until your eyes can't focus.

"You do not have to hide." Miraak's deep voice shocks you out of your reading. He eyes the stack of books at your side and you feel terribly vulnerable. "This is now your home as much as it is mine."

Clearly displeased with your lack of response, he huffs and walks away. Your brain struggles to catch up - the usual nasty tone of his voice was gone, something almost kind about the way he'd spoken to you. It's disconcerting.

Thankfully, you are too preoccupied with your assignment to notice how deeply he burns for you. You do not see the heat behind his glare or the tension in his body when you drift too near, barely keeping a leash on the gut wrenching desire.

Miraak finds it quite easy to convince himself that he detests you - the flipping of his gut is mere disgust and your permanent place in his dreams is blamed on that damned prophecy. You are too distracted sniffing around for clues to notice how deeply and shamefully he wants you.

"What is it you seek?" His voice nearly stops your heart. Blade aimed for his chest you whirl around, scolding yourself for lowering your guard enough for him to get so close. You pause, gaping at the face he's hidden behind masks for months and fight back the horrible wave of attraction.

The crooked nose, stubble trailing up his jaw, dark eyes glaring down at you. Grey streaks are visible where his hair's pushed away from his forehead. A scar drags through his lower lip, drawing far too much of your attention. Grinding your teeth against the way your cheeks blush, you summon every ounce of vitriol you can.

"None of your business."

"Incorrect. You are in my study."

"What I am searching for does not regard you."

"Doubtful, little dragon." You curse your heart for flipping at that pet name. Miraak's grin is nearly a snarl when he leans closer, unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

For one night, he will release his self control. He will make himself vulnerable if it means he can get a bit closer to you.

Vilkas

As the eldest daughter of a Jarl, your duties never cease. Keeping an eye on your siblings, watching the advisors in preparation for your role, learning from wizards and teachers and warriors alike - it is endless. From a young age you'd intended on caring for your beloved city of Whiterun whether you acted as Jarl or advisor, content with putting in the work for your future.

"We need a foot in the door with the Companions." Proventus' words had roused no suspicion at the time - he'd said similar things about the guild before. "They are unregulated, acting entirely separate from us."

"This is true." Your father had turned to you, heart in your throat at the prospect of proving yourself. You'd fine tuned your political knowledge over the past few years and finally, an opportunity to prove yourself to his court. "Can you be trusted with this task?"

You had no clue what you were agreeing to. You'd anticipated a cordial relationship, that you would be acting as a emissary. You expected to form a diplomatic relationship with the Companions. You'd met a few warriors for training but the prospect of working with them was intriguing, their reputation was equally vicious and respectable.

You try to keep it together for the first meeting. Kodlak Whitemane is intimidating but you stand tall beside your father, chin held high and sword strapped to your side. It has never tasted blood but the advisors had insisted upon you looking your best, presenting yourself as a capable fighter.

Kodlak's warriors appear cleaned up, though you notice the scars - tattoos swirl between the gaps in their armor and wary eyes watching every shadow. The one at his side looks ready to implode; hand wrapped menacingly around the hilt of his sword and dark eyes sweeping over you with barely contained disdain. He sneers, clearly seeing through your carefully placed facade. Your stomach drops when he stands only a few paces from you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

The meeting moves too fast to follow. Kodlak and your father speak in hushed tones, all the other advisors cloistered around them. Notably, you are left out - they must be bartering on your behalf, right? Why else would you be left out of the conversation? Three Companions stand at your side, each appearing equally annoyed.

"May I ask why your folks seem displeased?" You whisper to the man at your side, the one who appears less standoffish than the others. Soft brown eyes blink back at you, a short laugh badly disguised as a cough.

"Surprised you're takin' this so well. We had bets on you running out."

"What?"

"Aela thought you'd last through the discussions. I thought you'd bolt as soon as you saw him. And Vilkas, well he refused to make a bet." The man laughs again, a hand extended toward you. Your head is spinning when the dark haired man walks off in a huff, his anger radiating through the hall.

"Vilkas?"

"Yeah." You follow where he points out the man now shouldering his way into the circle of advisors. "Your new husband."

Despite his initial vitriol, Vilkas is annoyingly formal. He speaks to you as a member of the court - stiff and respectful. He spends little time in your company, taking every assignment offered by his elders to get him out of the city.

You can't say it isn't hurtful. Your union was one of mutual convenience for your families but to see your husband so clearly uninterested wounds you. Your conversations are brief, each focused entirely on whatever business Kodlak has with your father.

You hold your chin high, remaining in your father's home and listening to the advisors fret. Your visits to Jorrvaskr are not unpleasant but there is a notable lack of progress - Aela and Farkas are friendly, Athis slowly warms to you, but it is abundantly clear that they all view you as an outsider. Vilkas can barely remain in the hall, his brother kindly making excuses on his behalf.

Sleeping in your childhood bedroom as a married adult feels strange, though you console yourself with the knowledge that it is not a real marriage. No rings or tender words had been exchanged. It was merely a contract signed by Kodlak and your father on your behalf. You drift off to sleep with the image of Vilkas in your head, wracking your brain for what can be done to smooth things out.

"Hey."

Scrambling for the knife under your pillow, you barely manage to swallow the scream building in your throat. With the blade quivering in your hand you aim it toward your attacker's chest. Vilkas' dark eyes glare down at you, hair mussed and usual armor missing. You blink a few times when turns toward the door.

"Can't sleep. You coming?"

"Coming where?"

"Anywhere but here."

He hardly says a word when you stride out of Dragonsreach. He scoffs at the way you sneak past the guards, dagger still gripped in your hand. You follow him down the chilly steps until you're seated on a bench, backs to the Gildergreen.

"Sorry." He grumbles, dropping his cloak around your shoulders. "Bet you're freezing."

You're too stunned to question it. The cloak smells of him and you find yourself burrowing deeper into it, the first kind move he's made. Vilkas sits at your side, glaring out at the starry sky for what feels like hours.

"What is happening?" You finally ask, glancing over at him. You catch his striking profile, outlined by the silvery moonlight of late night; the sharp bridge of his nose and harsh brows, the lips that look surprisingly soft when they aren't grimacing. Your stomach flips when his eyes slide to you, though they appear uncharacteristically kind.

"Needed to get out for a bit." He shrugs, heaving a sigh. "Figured you could use a break from that place."

It's hard to predict when he will seek you out. Vilkas only appears in the dead of night, often the night before he departs for an assignment. You wander through Whiterun, enjoying the emptiness of the town while he tells you of his recent missions. You are giddy each time he refuses your attempts to return his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders to walk aimlessly at his side.

Not wanting the conversations to be one sided, you soon find yourself sharing more. Stories of court and your siblings feel boring in comparison but Vilkas seems interested. He remembers names remarkably well, asking after your brother's injured arm weeks after you'd brought it up.

It takes months for you to broach the topic of your future. You've grown comfortable in his company, no longer unsettled by the intensity of his gaze. He is still far from a husband but there is something like friendship blooming between you, an attraction that squeezes at your heart each time he smiles at you.

"I just want to be free." You admit, gazing out over the horizon. As you've spoken the sunrise has begun, rays of pink and orange reaching out to steal the night. You have to return to Dragonsreach soon before everyone else wakes. Despite that reasoning you find yourself leaning into Vilkas' shoulder, heart fluttering when he accepts your touch.

"Free?" He snorts, chin resting on the top of your head. "You're the Jarl's kid, you can do whatever you want."

"I've never made a choice for myself - I didn't even get to choose my husband." Clearly the lack of sleep has loosened your tongue. Vilkas chuckles, a sound that never fails to warm your heart.

"That's fair." He sighs, staring over your shoulder at Jorrvaskr. He's sure that the others have already awoken, chest tight with the unending duties threatening to drown him. "Someday, when we're done solving everyone else's problems, we'll get out of here."

Farkas

Since an early age, you've been warned to stay away from the Companions - their shimmering armor and heroic deeds are inviting but they do not live like you do. Their beast blood is a secret held only by those in the highest ranks, hidden away from the rest of their guild. You've never understood the secrecy but abide by your parents' warnings, heeding the wisdom of your pack.

Numbers have dwindled over the years. Tales told around the long table recount times when your pack commanded Whiterun's rolling plains, hunting and celebrating to their hearts' content. Each generation shrunk - the beast blood not passing on to younger generations and civilization encroaching upon the wilds. Handfuls of families have splintered off, some moving to new Holds while others joined larger packs.

You're fairly certain your hearing must be failing - after ages of warning every wolf off from dealing with the local guilds, your grandmother grimaces around those unbelievable words.

"What?"

"We can no longer survive on our own." She reiterates, your ears ringing. "These lands have been overhunted and new farms claim acres of land every day. Now with the Silver Hand moving into Whiterun," she sighs, gathering herself. Tears prick at your eyes when she rests a wrinkled hand on your shoulder. "Our family has entered an agreement with the Companions."

"Okay." You're struggling to wrap your head around this change but you'll manage - the pit in your stomach for months could finally cease. You know that food sources are growing scarce and numbers are falling but you're still a bit lightheaded at the finality of her statement.

"We've assured their continued support. They cannot back out of this deal."

"How? What do we have to give them?"

"You and some of the others will be married to the younger members of their inner circle."

It's like a punch to the gut. Your marriage is still a handful of years off but you will never forget about it - wondering each day if this is your last before being shackled to the Companions for the rest of your life. Your first meeting happens during a celebratory dinner, your heart in your throat as Kodlak presents the members of his pack.

One boy glowers across the hall and sneers at anyone who dares to speak to him. His brother stands nearby, a friendly smile on his face when Kodlak's hand lands on his shoulder. You can only pray that you aren't partnered with the unpleasant one.

"I'm Farkas." The kind boy introduces himself, calloused hand warm against yours. It takes a moment to remember your name - thankfully, your grandmother pats your shoulder and speaks for you.

"Nice to meet you." You choke out, terrified to be staring into the face of your future husband. His smile comes easily, dimples in his cheeks eyes radiating kindness. Light brown hair is braided out of his face and a broadsword is strapped across his well muscled back.

You spend the night awaiting the horrible stories your elders passed down to come true - that the Companions will shame your way of life or scoff at the state of your hall, but they are amiable. A bit reserved but they do nothing to earn your distrust. They share food and drink hauled down from their hall, listening intently to the stories told by your parents.

Farkas fits in too well. Even after Kodlak and the others stop visiting, contracts signed and goods exchanging hands, Farkas keeps coming. He shows up on your mother's doorstep with an armful of food and brings your siblings presents on their birthdays. Each time he appears you're shocked - this was sold to you as a marriage of convenience, one to fully unite your families. The grin on his face when he teaches your brother how to properly swing a sword or his willingness to help clear the dishes after dinner make you wonder if he was told something different.

Even as the season of your intended wedding approaches you cannot scrape up any distaste for him. You find your heart fluttering when Farkas rolls up his sleeves to help your father chop firewood or falls onto your bed at your side, curiously eyeing whatever book you're reading. You've both grown into a comfortable friendship, choosing to not speak of what awaits you only a few months away.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Farkas offers, eyes sliding your way. Even after all these years he still makes speech difficult, the friendly smile causing your brain to stop functioning. He's asked the question dozens of times but there's something loaded behind his words that makes this feel different. He's so careful when he holds your hand, clearly giving you space to shake him off.

Farkas follows the same path as always around local farms, a pleasant expression on his face but you feel the nerves radiating from him. Perhaps you've just got enough anxiety for you both.

"What's wrong?" You blurt, unable to contain the nerves any longer. Eyes sparkling in the moonlight Farkas turns to you and you're certain the whole valley can hear your heart ramming against your ribs.

"I want to marry you." His voice is uncharacteristically serious.

"That's been arranged since we were kids."

"No, I mean for real." Farkas insists, chilly fingers tracing the shape of your cheek. You've been close to others but nothing has felt like this, no one else has set your skin ablaze with a simple touch.

"I need you to know that I'm not just doing this because Kodlak said to. I want to be here with you, with your family - I want you."

It takes a few minutes to digest that - he wants you. Farkas is patient when you work through that, fingers tightening around yours as he awaits an answer. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you finally voice the feelings you've ignored for years.

"I want you, too."

Kissing him is so easy, it feels natural. He smells like home; the hands cupping your face are stained from helping your parents cook and the scent of your fireplace clings to hair you'd tied back. Farkas kisses you like it's the first time he's taken a breath, needy and desperate. His nose brushes yours before he's pulling back, that comforting smile rousing butterflies in your gut.

The wedding you'd spent years dreading surpasses all your expectations. Farkas cries the moment he sees you, tears streaming down his cheeks when he pledges each day of his life to yours. You pointedly ignore all the vows regarding duty and tradition - you love this man. You've fallen in love with him slowly and without realizing it, loving him a bit more each day you've spent with him. He speaks of his love for you and respect for your family, summoning fat tears in your eyes when he kisses you.

"Thanks for lovin' me." He murmurs into your hair, crushing you to his chest.

Arnbjorn

"You should do it."

"Absolutely not."

"It's the best way to ensure the survival of both our Guilds!" Delvin insists, that smug look on his face. He thinks he's already won. "If we don't come to an agreement, our groups are bound to cannibalize each other. Our customer base and services are too similar."

"All good points."

"Every Jarl is out for our blood and both of our Guilds have recently lost leaders." It's annoying how correct he is. Delvin nudges the ale toward you, clearly urging you to consider. "A partnership would solve nearly all our problems."

"And why can it not be a business partnership?" You ask, accepting the drink. "Your relationship with the Brotherhood has stood since before I even joined the Guild, has something caused you to doubt it?"

"Unfortunately." Delvin's expression sours at that. "Their new leader."

You agree to a meeting with their new leader, expecting the Listener - they've visited a few times when the Brotherhood needed Delvin's aid, most recently during their move to Dawnstar. Your friendship is easy but holds no attraction, certainly nothing that would tempt you into a marriage.

"The Listener isn't their official leader." Delvin corrects you at the last minute, the group of shadows entering the Flagon. "It's the old leader's widower."

He stands before you, intimidatingly tall and muscled. Unimpressed eyes shamelessly comb through the crowd of thieves, white hair braided away from a handsome face. Delvin's elbow nudges yours and your face burns when you stumble over your introduction, clearing your throat before the conversation begins.

It's rough. Their leader, Arnbjorn, clearly lacks his former partner's knack for negotiation. You'd only encountered Astrid a couple times before her death but remembered her way of speaking, calculated with a constant threat in each word. Arnbjorn is much more straightforward, the Listener and Nazir looking a bit uneasy at his side.

"I have no need of a wife." He speaks plainly, earning a glare from his companions. "My hands are full running the Brotherhood and looking after the recruits."

"My thoughts exactly." you concur, though the conversation spirals away from that point once again.

Gods, you feel like this is never going to end. Hours pass and Delvin's sheet of notes has become illegible. The Listener is predictably quiet, taking in everyone's words while Delvin and Nazir hash out the details - where barriers for contracts should be, how to notify the other, who can recruit in what regions. After far too many drinks their words devolve into an obnoxious drone.

You aren't entirely sure anyone notices when you excuse yourself. Maybe a breath of fresh air will clear your head. You're certain that the sun has risen and quite possibly fallen once more since the negotiations had begun, shuffling your way through the Cistern in search of the outdoors.

"Hey."

Two strong fingers grab your elbow just as you're about to climb to freedom. You turn, sucking in a deep breath when you realize that you're cramped into the secret passageway with Arnbjorn. His cheeks are flushed - he's had even more drinks than you, leaning on the wall for support.

"What?" You try to sound sure of yourself despite the distracting closeness of his body. It's troubling how handsome he is. Arnbjorn blinks at you, sucking in a deep breath before speaking.

"I didn't want you to think my protests have anything to do with you." He clears his throat, obviously struggling to speak so plainly. "It's just - my wife passed away. You're very pretty but I have to think about the Brotherhood."

"I understand." You breathe, unable to ignore the way his eyes seem glued to your mouth. He leans a bit closer and you can smell him, smoke and pine and you fight back the wave of attraction.

Kissing him is foolish. You know this. It is a dumb mistake that you cannot stop yourself from making, closing the tiny distance between you. His lips are warm and god, the large hand curling around your waist and drawing you closer feels divine. His body presses to yours, crowding you against the stone wall until you can feel every delicious inch of him.

"Oh gods -" Delvin's voice shatters the moment. You're shrinking back, Arnbjorn stumbling a few steps away but it's too late. Your face burns when Delvin and the Listener's stares pin you in place. "Well, looks like our problem solved itself."

Marrying him is strange. Arnbjorn is stiff and standoffish, barely grumbling when the arrangements are drawn up. It's hard to forget that kiss, heat creeping into your cheeks every time the memory emerges. He's not unkind, just unwaveringly professional.

"If you're not interested in your wife," the client's words are slurred when he nudges Arnbjorn. "Mind if I take a swing?" A few too many celebratory drinks have been shared after your first successful joint contract. He stares intently at you, arousal pounding through his veins at the sight of you wearing Brotherhood armor.

"What?" The wave of sheer rage catches him off guard. Arnbjorn glares down at the drunken lord, anger building when the man leers toward your group of thieves. He's restrained himself for so long, ignored the way your eyes linger and seek him out because of his damned principles - but he will not allow this.

"You clearly don't want her. No harm in someone else gettin' a chance, right?" The man grumbles into his goblet. "After all the coin I handed out for this job -"

All conversation ceases when Arnbjorn bolts out of his seat. Before you can ask what's wrong he's stalking toward you, fingers gentle but insistent when they grip your chin and tilt your lips toward his. His kiss is full of heat, brain flooding with unabashed arousal as your husband's hips press firmly into yours.

"What's this all about?" You pant, cheeks burning bright red when his nose brushes yours.

"Don't worry about it." Arnbjorn grumbles against your lips. He'll let his reservations slip for this evening of celebration. He tells himself that he will rebuild all those walls in the morning, allowing himself this one night as your husband.

[undersprite]

2024 Comic Contest Results

Before we get started, I would like to extend a personal thank you to everyone who created an entry for the contest this year. Although we only got four entries this year, those four entries' dedication to telling stories that are novel and interesting for this community to enjoy is worthy of commendation in itself. For a while, I was scared we wouldn't even get enough entries to fill the podium; thanks to your efforts, this has not come to pass.

Since we have very few entries this time around, I'll be providing a link to each comic, with accompanying scores and excerpts from reviews. Now, catch the results under the cut:

Runner-Up: "The Undertale Game Comic" by FutureGamer25

(Average score: 15.5/50)

"As the submitter says, this was made in a day. I can’t be too hard on this out of principle..." - Soufon

"[...it] succeeded at making me laugh multiple times, thanks in no small part to how it deliberately wields nothing looking like it fits together." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"You know, honestly for being made in less than a day and being posted 5 minutes before the deadline, I gotta give you a lot of credit for that. I don’t even think I could have made that in a day [...]" - Mufeet

"The freaking car and the ending got me a good chuckle. I'll give you that. I congratulate you for tossing your coin." - Subna

3rd: "Frisk Visits the Store and Nothing Happens" by Trooper3

(Average score: 34/50)

"I thought Sans and ESPECIALLY Papyrus were super funny [...] I think we’ve finally reached a point where the skele-bros are just consistently characterized properly now, and I love to see it." - Mufeet

"The FunMart[TM] makes an earnest effort to capture the feeling of exploring an area in an actual Toby Fox game, and [...] captures at least a bit of that shine." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"I honestly like your idea, is funny and it works perfectly to show these OCs of yours in this format. I wish there was more content to see about them, I wish to know them [...]" - Subna

"As light as it is, I like having this kind of slice of life look into UT’s world, the comedy focus helping to make the comic feel more breezy than insubstantial." - Soufon

2nd: "Undertale: Pushing On" by Mouse

(Average score: 34.75/50)

"Of all the entries we got, this is the only one that really felt like it captured the essence of telling a story as if it were still part of a game—something I have sorely missed." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"Great story and great teaching from it. Can add up greatly to UNDERTALE’s world and...tbh I’d LOVE to play a full game with Alvia." - Subna

"[...] I like having who [Gerson] is in UT be because of Alvia’s actions, like how the orange soul kid is framed as responsible for the bunny family in Snowdin’s success - having all the soul humans impact the underground like that helps all of them feel real to UT’s world[...]" -Soufon

"I was captivated from beginning to end, and god, the ending [...] it actually made me a bit teary-eyed." - Mufeet

1st: "Knock Knock" by StarlightShores and ToMoChao

(Average score: 47/50)

"I was not expecting something like this out of this contest. Knock Knock is a substantial storyline, not a peek into an adventure, or a silly reprieve." - Soufon

"Even if it’s pretty lengthy, it keeps you engaged, to know where this is all going, all the way to the end." - Subna

"Flowey and Sans pair-ups are so rare, but when done it is ALWAYS such a fun time. They both play off each other so well, and it is no exception in this comic, especially towards the end where they start to bond over dealing with the loss of someone important to them." - Mufeet

"You created a story going on a thousand panels where, while reading it, my attention never flagged [...] You created a webcomic the Undertale fanbase will, if there’s any justice left around here, be obsessed with for years to come. It’s art, I’m afraid." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

Our full score card for the event can be seen here. The full reviews will be available in the Discord server on request.

With regards to prizes: the judge whom was contributing to our prize pool has begun college for the year, and unfortunately they were unable to set aside the money they had originally promised for the cash prize. The illustration prize is still available; winners, please reach out to fmsdraws on Discord to claim your prize.

And that leaves me...with this blog.

I'd like to write up a proper postmortem for this experience, but that can come in another week or two. For now, please enjoy the comics and celebrate the victors!

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Rhys Darby; Samba BTS; Vico Ortiz; Ruibo Qian; HowToHelp; Petition Embed; Queerties Last Day; IRL Outreach Assets; New Watch Parties; Visual Rep of SaveOFMD Effort; Fan Spotlight; Collages; OurFlagMeansBooze; Articles; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Wow everyone, crazy day again. Day 2 of BTS Darbygeddon. I'm actually going to set a google calendar reminder for tomorrow between 1-2 in case Samba decides to drop another doozy on us. Hope you all had a good day. Here's the highlights-- there's more I would have liked to add but I need to get permission first, so I'll hopefully have them up tomorrow. As always, please let me know if I missed anything <3

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Back again with another Cameo is Rhys for our lovely crewmate @Kellykat53 over on twitter! Thank you so much for sharing this with us Kelly, it's a lovely little inspirational video, definitely gives us plenty of Vitamin RD (as @scorpiostarseed would say). Check out the Cameo

= Saint Samba Schutte =

I've seen several people mention that Samba is a Saint (sorry not sure who started it to attribute it) so going forward, that will be his name. SO MANY BTS pictures and videos. My goodness. Has it even been a day since the last Merstede dump? It has, but damn, here we are with the BOYFRIEND video, and the nipple scratching, and oh look it's Buttons from the Cryptid Factor! As always, if you have access to instagram, please check out these posts on Samba and Rhys' posts/stories.

Videos on Tumblr:

Boyfriends - ty @blakbonnet!

Merstede - ty @kiwistede!

English Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Cursed Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Steard Nips - ty @kiwistede!

Rhysently Granted Reunion - ty @kiwistede!

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico voiced the new novel "The Diablo's Curse "by New York Times Best Seller Gabe Cole Novoa! I know some of you are huge Vico fans so wanted to mention it, you can purchase the audio book here. Src: Vico's IG

= Ruibo Qian =

Are you in New York? Our Pirate Queen will be at the #TonyKiserTheater NEXT MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26 at 6:30PM for a one night only reading of On The Evolutionary Function of Shame, by D.A. Mindell - For more details visit here.

== How to Help ==

Hey all! We're adding some things to the daily task lists (and taking some off). Here they are!

= Petition Embed Code =

Looking to easily embed the petition link in your AO3 fic, or maybe your email? @sonnetforbonnet was kind enough to provide us with some embeds you can use! Please visit the repo for the codes!

= Last day for Queerties! =

Please remember to vote! Today's the last day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

= IRL Outreach Assets =

== New Watch Parties Coming Up! ==

The Pirates! Watch Party! This is a family friendly movie so bring the kids! Or the adults-- or anyone you know, really, as long as it's not against their will! Sunday March 3rd, 3 PM EST, 12 PM PST, 8 PM GMT!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurPirateCaptain

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Visual Representation of Fandom Efforts to SOFMD ==

Remember our friends that had the in person Matelotage Processional? Well they're back with a funny video illustrating the fandom efforts of Save OFMD!

Fangirlfoto's Instagram Don't have instagram? See the video on the repo here.

＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝

Thank you once again to @wndrngnomad on twitter for all their awesome collages dedicated to the Cast and Crew! Day 21: Calypso's Birthday! Perfectly timed considering the lovely Boyfriend themed BTS we got today! Catch-Up: Day 2: Madeleine Sami!

= Our Flag Means Booze! =

Our absolutely brilliant crew-mate @quiet-compassion over on tumblr has been designing OFMD Themed Drinks since the show was dropped by Max!  These not only have super fun and creative names you'll all recognise, but an amazing array of flavours too! If you're 21+ (in the US) or the appropriate age for drinking in your country, feel free to try them out! As always, please drink responsibly! Are you celebrating with Moonglow Manifesting? Why not try the "Moon Glow" cocktail for the end of the event! Want to see ALL their concoctions? Head on over to the repo, they're all there!

== Articles ==

17 Facts and Easter Eggs about OurFlagMeansDeath That will Get you On Board - 17 Fakten und Easter Eggs zu „Our Flag Means Death“, die dich ins Boot holen - ty @AddieH on twitter

Max: The 34 Absolute Best TV Shows to Watch

==Morale ==

Hey crew. I've been hearing some scuttlebutt around the deck that people are starting to worry again about whether or not s3 is going to happen. The love notes section is already pretty long so I'm not gonna go too crazy up here too -- instead I'm going to just point out that David Jenkins, while not active and posting things for us right now, is sneakily poking around in Samba and Rhys' BTS comments. He's still there, he's still watching, and I think he can tell we're all feeling the high from Samba's releases. Don't give up hope, these things take time. They're gonna get there. I'm gonna add the trends to this section today because I think it's important to see what we did today:

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. I know I've said it before, but it bares repeating since I know a lot of you are struggling right now.

Just a gentle reminder that if your brain is telling you that there's something wrong with you, or that you've done something wrong or embarrassing -- it's lying to you.

There's been so much dopamine from all the excitement lately with the BTS, that it has to come down at some point, and when it does, your brain will sometimes over-compensate and you start feeling maybe worse than you did before.

This is totally normal, it really is. Our brains are glorious complex pathways of unmeasurable brilliance, and yet a simple hormone change can make that same brain tell us that we're not enough, or we're not worthy.

I am here to remind you, you are so very much enough.

No matter what is happening in your life-- in your job, in your personal relationships, in your family, in your school, anywhere--

YOU ARE ENOUGH, EXACTLY HOW YOU ARE.

If you feel like you've failed, or you've let someone down, just know you are STILL enough. We all fail, it's how we learn.

We pick ourselves back up and we try again, and if we fail again--

We're STILL enough, and we are still worthy of love and comfort.

Eventually you will succeed. You will get there, and all the while while you work on it, YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

I know it's so hard to see when you're feeling small, but I see you all every day, and I am awe-struck at your constant ability to band together and not only find love and support, but give it so freely and lovingly.

A simple @ to someone, alerting them to something they'd like

A love note in dms or on a tumblr post

A gif or picture or video brought to tumblr from some other platform so others can see them.

Writing a fic or drawing a picture.

A reblog with tags, goofy or not

Anon Asks showing people you support how they feel about a given topic

Liking a post.

These are all love notes. No matter how public or private, they're all there and they all add up eventually to form this wonderful community and you've been kicking ass at love.

I know we all look like we're having a good time, but a lot of us are struggling silently, and yet we're finding ways to reach out to one another and spread love to help us all get through. Love isn't always positivity, it can be commiseration, or frustration on behalf of someone. You all are finding the best ways to help your crew, and I'm so very proud of you.

You all are capable, creative, gifted, beautious piles of stardust smooshed together into one wonderfully unique package, and you are so very loved.

You are enough,

You are loved,

and THINGS WILL GET BETTER Lovelies.

Get some rest <3 You got this.

= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =

What can I say, I literally can't not include this Rhys gif today. It's physically impossible, please forgive me. Good fucking lord, I'm going to Costa Rica now. Also, sorry I tried to get a matching Taika gif, but I have run out of brain cells. Hopefully this one will suffice.

Rhys - Courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew

Taika - Courtesy of @studiomoon

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Can See It In Your Eyes

Drew Starkey x Evangeline Sinclair (OC)

Warnings: none that I can think of (this is also lightly edited so sorry for any mistakes)

“Evangeline!”

“Ms. Sinclair over here!”

“Look this way!”

The young starlet walks down the red carpet, the train of her gown in her hand as she makes her way to an interviewer. The buzzing crowd does nothing for her nerves, but she focuses on the pride she feels as everyone calls out for her.

“We’re here with Evangeline Sinclair. She walked the red carpet for the first time just yesterday for her premiere of her brand new horror movie. Everyone seemed to love it and the reviews are to die for. How do you feel?” The interviewer dives in straight away.

Evangeline only has a millisecond to catch her breath.

“So excited. This movie is special to me and I want people to really feel that. I hope that transcribes well through all the hard work that was put into that project,” she breathes out, hands clutched over her heart to show that her words are heartfelt.

“Today you’re here as well to support your fellow Loewe crew and Luca who you’ve previously worked with.”

“Yes, I am. Luca is a fantastic director and he’s perfect at having a vision and making it come to life. I’m honored to be here to celebrate and support such an amazing film and an amazing cast and crew”

“If you don’t mind shifting gears, rumor has it that Drew Starkey is your newest costar for another horror movie coming out sometime next year,” the woman says excitedly.

“Well I guess it isn’t a rumor anymore. Yes, he’s my costar and we’re actually in the middle of filming. Our lovely cast and crew were gracious enough to allow us to be here supporting our other projects,” Evangeline grins, a little flutter growing in her heart at the thought of Drew.

“Well the chemistry must be strong between you two. I can just feel the electricity buzzing when you walk by one another,” the interviewer points out, making a blush form on the actress’s cheeks.

“He’s amazing to work with. What can I say? Our chemistry is unmatched and that’s why we’re starring in a major movie together,” she muses through a big grin.

“I think I heard my name,” Drew chimes in, popping up behind Evangeline.

His hand finds the small of her back and he places a chaste kiss to her cheek, furthermore making her face blaze.

“Drew! How kind of you to join us. What’s it like working with this generation’s scream queen?”

Both Drew and Eva share a quick glance, their eyes quickly flitting away from each other. The girl is highly aware of his large hand still present on her back.

“Ah man. She’s- yeah she’s perfect. Someone that everyone wants to work with, and I just so happen to be the lucky one to do so. She’s super talented and she really knows how to put dedication into the craft,” Drew compliments, directing his gaze back to her.

They all look at each other just about speechless. Evangeline wasn’t expecting for him to say that and it clearly caught the interviewer off guard.

“He’s such a flatterer. I should be saying that I’m the lucky one, being able to work with him,” she shakes off her surprise.

“And soon everyone will be the lucky ones when they’re able to see your film in theaters.”

Evangeline turns her body into Drew’s, her hand landing on his chest in an affectionate manner. Although their touches seem to be mostly platonic, everyone will still be able to see the tension bouncing between their eyes.

“We can’t wait for everyone to see it,” Drew gleams and squeezes the actress into his side.

“Thank you, Drew and Evangeline. It was nice talking to you both,” the interviewer concludes her interview and the duo bid their goodbyes.

“You should pose with me for pictures,” Drew leans down to whisper in her ear.

The girl blushed furiously this time, heart practically beating out of her chest. Whenever she’s around Drew, her senses go haywire.

“No way. You’re the star of the night,” she huffs out.

“And you’re always a star.” Can he be any more perfect?

“One picture. Only one, Drew,” she gives in.

After a few pictures- after the paparazzi couldn’t get enough of them -the duo make their way inside, away from any prying eyes or lenses.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you that you look beautiful,” Drew sighs as if it's been weighing on his chest.

“Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

His hands find their way back onto her back, slowly tugging her into him for a long overdue hug. Evangeline doesn’t dare stop herself from looping her arms around his neck. His hair tickles her fingers in a pleasant way, reminding her of all the times she’s played with his hair on set.

If someone were to see them, they’d think they’re a couple. Hell, sometimes her mind even tricks her into thinking they’re a couple. Truth is, their bond has become so strong, a catalyst from co-starring in a movie together. Their characters are each other’s love interest, and they’ve had their fair share of onscreen kisses that have pushed their relationship to toe the line between fiction and reality.

Snapping the girl out of her thoughts, Drew slides a hand down her arm and interlocks their fingers.

“Shit. I need to get going and meet up with Luca and Daniel and everyone else,” he mutters, lowering his head in slight annoyance.

“Nervous, Starkey?” There’s a tease hidden in her words and Drew catches it right away.

He fights off a bubbling laugh and just presses a hard kiss to her cheek.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” she adds after he fails to respond.

“I’m fine. I know you’ll be in there, seated right behind me,” he says and gathers her in his arms once again. Even in heels, Eva still has to be on her tiptoes to press her forehead to his.

“Mmm right. I almost forgot that I’m your non-date,” she laughs. Drew had asked her to accompany him during his film's premiere day, knowing that her presence will keep him calm. He also can’t deny that he adores seeing her dolled up and by his side.

“Date,” he corrects her. She stays silent, just peering into his baby blues.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers and finally returns his cheek kiss.

“I have to get going.”

“Go superstar,” she playfully pushes at his chest.

He squeezes at her hips, reluctantly pulling away to catch one last, longing gaze at her before meeting the cast and crew for Queer.

a/n: I haven’t written for Drew in a while, so I hope y’all truly enjoy it

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want to see with Drew and Evangeline!