#DON’T LOOK AT ME OKAY BRAINROT WAS STRONG IN THIS ONE

[hanakihan]

『Absolute Being』

This painting was found in studio after painter Sung Jin-Woo disappeared. No date of creation was found, but due to rough and unclear style similar to that of ‘Ashborn’ piece, it’s considered a part of early Sung Jin-Woo. No title was found either, but due to words written on back of canvas, this piece got its name:

‘You, an Absolute Being, who is lovingly admiring. I wonder if you’ll reach the one you love?’

[r1elle]

desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)

husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)

“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.

okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.

honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.

“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”

you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.

“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.

you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.

“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.

you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.

in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.

atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.

“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.

in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.

“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.

atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.

“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.

“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”

— • —

now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,

but seriously….

you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.

“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”

“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”

“….yes, i know. but where did you—“

“we have a daughter now, hehe.”

“since when did i agre—“

“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”

“ ‘tsum-“

“i love you.”

“dont change the subject!”

——————————————————————————

atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)

update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽

[g1rld1ary]

the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader

➻ synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper

➻ word count: 4346

➻ content: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!

➻ the remus brainrot is strong rn

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.

Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.

“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.

“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.

“Wait, really?”

“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.

“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.

“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.

“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.

“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.

“Prongs, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.

“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.

It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!

Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.

“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.

“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.

“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”

“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”

Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.

It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.

Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?

After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.

While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.

“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.

“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.

You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.

“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.

“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.

You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.

“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.

“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.

Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.

You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.

Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.

You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.

The group was trying to organise their next meeting.

“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.

“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.

“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”

“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.

“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.

“It’s not what you think—”

“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.

“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”

The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.

“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.

“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”

“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.

“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.

“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.

Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.

You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.

Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.

“I love you,” He said and you laughed.

“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.

“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.

“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.

“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.

Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.

You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.

A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.

“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.

It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.

You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.

“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.

“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.

“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.

Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.

“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”

“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.

“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.

“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.

You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.

“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”

“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.

“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.

“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.

“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.

You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.

“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.

“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.

“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.

You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.

The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.

[frudoo]

Literally obsessed with your Slasher 141 series, its been giving me so much brainrot

I have a few ideas;

reader feels a bit self conscious about her body and the boys make it their mission to show her how beautiful she is in their eyes (could be fluff or smut)

OR

Reader decides to be a brat over text to the boys as they were out for the day, and hides from the boys once they arrive home, resulting in them hunting and chasing her down 👀👀 ( smut and a lil fluff )

This is very self-indulgent because I've been feeling bad about my own body lately. This is for my fellow fat girls <3

Warnings: Mentions of skipping meals, food in general. Self-deprecating thoughts, somewhat poor communication. Fem!Reader is fat (in all of the slasher!141 AU). Fluff!

You’ve been off lately. During mealtime with the boys, you barely eat, just poke at the food on your plate. It isn’t like you—you’re usually the one to cook and try out all kinds of new recipes to share with your lovers, or baking sweet treats to give them after a hard day—so for you to suddenly have no interest in food is concerning. Tonight is no exception. John made your favorite, beef stew and cornbread (a southern delicacy you taught him how to make), but you just mindlessly stir the stew with your spoon, eyes focused on nothing at all.

     “How was your day, dove?” Kyle tries to break you from your trance, but you only nod.

     “Helped a chicken give birth today,” Simon stares straight at you, ignoring the incredulous looks the other three men give him.

     Still, no sort of reaction from you, other than an uninterested hum. 

     “Ah went tae the doctor earlier,” Johnny says next. “Turns oot ah’m pregnant.”

     “Nice,” you deadpan, completely oblivious to the outrageous lies these dumbasses have been telling you. 

     “Enough,” Price furrows his eyebrows, dropping his spoon with a clang. “Darlin’, you haven’t eaten in two days.”

     This time, you listen. Immediately, you rush to defend yourself, eyes narrowed at the bearded man.

     “I’ve just been fe-”

    “Don’t you give me that bullshit about bein’ sick, either. I’ve seen you sick, and it was completely different than this,” he interrupts, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Speak, baby. Tell us what’s goin’ on in that pretty head o’yours.”

     “It’s nothing,” you grumble.

     Simon sighs dramatically, slapping his palms down on the dining room table to push himself up out of his chair. Before you can protest, he picks you up and sits in your seat, then settles you in his lap. You try to wriggle free, but his hold on you is unwavering. 

     “Stop strugglin’ and tell us wha’ the fuck is wrong w’you,” the blond man grunts, strong arms wrapped around your waist so you can’t move as much. 

     “I hate my body!” You blurt, and the room falls silent. “I-I don’t know what you all see in me. I just… I look gross.”

     Tears build in your eyes and spill past your waterline, streaming down your round cheeks. All four men look at each other wordlessly, unsure of what to say. Their silence breaks your heart, and you manage to wriggle out of Simon’s lap. 

     “I’m going to bed,” you mumble, wiping your eyes with your sweatshirt and moping your way upstairs.

     Your bedroom is the furthest down the hall, the longest walk. Usually this fact doesn’t bother you, but with your state of mind the way it is right now, you can’t help but feel like it’s purposeful. You slam the door shut and lock it, purposefully avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you flop into bed. It creaks with your weight, and you let out another sob. 

     You end up crying yourself to sleep, clammy face stuck to your pillow. When you wake up, you find that your door is still locked and try your hardest not to burst into tears all over again. Not one of the boys came to check on you last night? It makes you feel even worse—are you that much of an eyesore that they don’t dare come see if you’re okay? The thought makes your stomach churn. A knock makes itself known on your door, pulling you from your thoughts.

     “Dove? Can you let us in?” Kyle’s soft voice sounds from the hallway. “Please?”

     “We wanna talk to you, sweet girl,” Price’s voice comes next, followed by more pleas from Johnny and Simon.

     With a shaky sigh, you oblige, unlocking the door and swinging it open. When your eyes fall on them, you bite back a gasp—they all look exhausted, puffy bags beneath their bloodshot eyes, frowns tugging their lips downward. You can’t imagine you look any better, but still, your heart aches seeing them look so down.

     “Hey, bonnie,” Johnny instantly brightens up when he sees you, and you have to fight the urge to push him off when he wraps his arms around you. 

     “Hi,” you mutter, impartial to the kiss the Scotsman plants on your temple.

     They all trail into your room nervously, and it’s just then that you notice a large jar in Simon’s arms. Your eyebrows furrow as you sit on the edge of your bed, waiting for one of them to speak up first.

     “I want to start by apologizin’, sweetheart,” John begins, sitting beside you on your bed. “We were all… well, none of us were expectin’ to hear you talk about yourself like that, and we panicked. That wasn’t fair to you.”

     You shrug, eyes focused on your lap. Price reaches out to grab your hand, gently running his thumb across your knuckles. 

     “You are absolutely stunnin’. You are the farthest thing from gross, dove,” Kyle sits on your opposite side, grabbing your unoccupied hand. 

     “Ah think ah speak fer all of us when ah say tha’ we love yer body,” Johnny hums.

     “I’m fat,” you frown, and Simon scoffs.

     “Yeah? And?” He narrows his eyes at you. “We like y’like tha’. More t’grab, more t’love.”

     “I don’t understand why,” you whisper, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously. 

     “What’s not to understand?” John squeezes your hand. “You’re soft, and warm.”

     “The fuckin’ best at cuddlin’, too,” Kyle grins.

     “Great tits,” Johnny butts in, earning himself a jab to the ribcage from Simon. “Och- wha’?! It’s true!”

     “Wha’ the wanker is tryin’ t’say is tha’ you’re perfect. For us, in general—y’complete us, love. Your body is jus’ a plus,” Simon concludes, finally stepping forward to offer you the jar.

     “What’s this?” You ask, carefully pulling your hands out of Kyle and John’s. 

     “We spent all nigh’ gatherin’ up pictures of you tha’ we love,” Kyle explains, watching excitedly as you screw the lid off. 

     Inside, the jar is filled to the brim with photos and polaroid pictures—candids of you baking in the kitchen, napping on the couch, tending to the garden or the animals, even selfies you sent to Johnny when the two of you first started talking online. Mixed in with those is printouts of text messages they’ve all sent each other, fawning over you, some of which dating back to even before you met the others. Tears stream down your face yet again, but instead of being sad, you’re overwhelmed with love and joy from these men you get to call yours.

     “I-I don’t know what to say,” you sniffle, setting down the jar to wipe your eyes.

     “Don’t say anythin’, darlin’, just let us hold you,” John murmurs, pulling you onto the bed and wrapping an arm around your waist.

     Maybe being dogpiled by your four huge husbands on an already creaky bed isn’t the best idea, but hey, all that matters is that you’re happy.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS Xavier: Pinned Up (18+)

This fic is an amalgamation of like three different inspirational outlets, okay. I didn't want to write this. I was forced to. First freaking @nati-cutie-patootie was like "Hey, this song is so Xavier, right?", then the Xavier brainrot began. Then I woke up and saw THIS POST by @ellereath and was like "Well I'm a writer and I was already planning on doing something for Xavier so why not?" but then I saw THE IMAGE that they linked to and anyway there is no space in heaven for me because I am an irredeemable whore who can only sin...so anyway enjoy the smut!

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Reader implied having breasts, Gender Neutral Terms but AFAB anatomy, Wall Sex, Oral (Receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Squirting Synopsis: You couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend, whether it was when you two worked out or just at home. How someone so sweet and soft looking could be so strong was a mystery to you, but you certainly wouldn't complain when he lifts you up and pins you to a wall with ease. Word Count: 4.8k

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Pinned Up (18+) Xavier x Reader

You sighed, wiping your brow with the towel you had wrapped around your neck. The cool breeze cooled off your overheated skin as you turned to Xavier. He looked to be perfectly fine as he also wiped down his own brow.

You both had only done a light workout, one of those that you don’t sweat too much during it, but it takes forever for your body to cool down afterwards. It didn’t help that you two had to walk a mile to the apartments since the gym at your complex was closed down for maintenance.

“How you feelin?” You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. Xavier, who had been focused on just making it home, turned to you with a soft smile.

“I’m a bit tired, but it’s not too bad.” He admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. When wasn’t this man tired, after all? It was one of those things you had found particularly endearing, especially because you knew if you ever wanted to take a nap, he wouldn’t judge you and join you in the activity.

You finally arrived at the complex, both of you groggily getting into the elevator. Xavier put in his floor number and you smiled, knowing it was a subtle invitation for you to join him. After a few minutes the door finally opened to his floor and you both got out. You trailed after Xavier as he unlocked the door, opening it and letting you go inside first.

You knew his apartment like it was your own with how often you came over. After taking off your shoes you walked over to the kitchen, standing on your toes to reach one of the higher shelves to grab the cups. You filled it with ice cold water and you silently sat on the bar stool; you slid Xavier a glass of water while you sipped on your own.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you enjoyed the refreshing drink gliding down your throat. That was until you turned over to Xavier. He had made it into the kitchen and grabbed the water you had prepared for him.

He greedily drank from the cup, finishing it almost in one go. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and how some of the water crept down the side of his mouth and dripped down onto his chest. He was still covered in a subtle sheen of sweat that you wanted to lick off of him.

Xavier stopped as he finished his glass, noticing your stare and he shot you an almost knowing smile. He always seemed so innocent that you sometimes forgot that he was a wolf in a bunny disguise. The things he’s not only done to you, but has said to you were now clouding your mind as you bit your lip and tried focusing on something else.

“Something on your mind?” Xavier said, using his arm to wipe away the bit of water that had escaped.

You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with the man, “Ya, I’m totally fine.” You took another sip of the water and tried getting your head out of the gutter. Your muscles were already protesting, it was best to not poke at the beast and have him fold you like a pretzel. 

Xavier walked over to where you were, placing his cup in the sink. He made sure to subtly graze your arm as he did so, looking over to gauge your reaction. 

You couldn’t help the involuntary shiver running down your spine. You swore his libido was rubbing off on you somehow. He managed to always rile you up way too easily and you were in a  constant state of wanting him to be buried in you. 

You tried distracting yourself, knowing that Xavier always had an assortment of snacks at the ready since he was so used to you being here (not to mention the man could eat). You stood up, looking around the pantry. Xavier’s gaze followed your form the entire time, his eyes half lidded as he gave a lazy smile at seeing how comfortable you were at his place.

It wasn’t hard to find something appealing in his pantry since he always kept your tastes in mind. A box of chocolate pocky sticks stood out and you happily took them; you opened the box and placed one of the sticks in your mouth with a satisfied hum.

As you walked back over to Xavier you couldn’t help but think of that one incident on the bus when you two went on vacation. The way he had subtly kissed you in public when you two hadn’t even started dating yet had made your heart flutter. It was around that time you had sworn you’d confess your feelings, because being with him like that had been torture. You had wanted to drag him into another kiss that day…but that was all in the past as you stared over at your cute boyfriend.

Xavier noticed the snack in your hand, taking one of the sticks and started to nibble on it. You seemed to have cooled off as you looked over at Xavier again, the content look on his face as he enjoyed the sweet treat.

“Since you’re here, would you like to borrow the shower?” He asked, glancing over at you once he noticed you staring at him again.

“Yes please…do I still have a change of clothes here?” You asked, taking another pocky stick in your mouth as you leaned over the counter.

“I think so, but if not you can just borrow some of my clothes.” He said with a shrug and you smiled.

“Sounds good to me.” You paused for a moment, “I’ll shower after I rest a bit though. I don’t want to make the commitment yet.” Even if the thought of a shower was tempting, you knew if you hopped in like this, you might not want to get out.

“We could always watch a movie together.” Xavier commented and you shook your head.

“No way, we’re all sweaty and stinky from working out, I don’t want to rub it off on the couch.” You said and Xavier stared at you with the most confused look in the world.

“But we’ve sweat on the couch before…?” You almost choked on your pocky at his blunt response. You slowly looked at him and then huffed a bit. He then walked over to where you were relaxing on the counter. He leaned his body over you, pressing his nose against your neck and smelling, “And you certainly don’t stink right now.”

You let out a small squeak as you leaned away from him, “Hey, hey, hey!” You said, pushing his face away from you as he chuckled, “You can’t do that to me right after I work out!” You whined, but couldn’t help the chuckle coming from you as well.

“I’m telling you, we both stink from sweating.” You claimed then stopped at your sudden realization. He had been really close to you a moment before and you didn’t notice any smell from him. There was no way…you turned around, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer to you as you did exactly what he had done moments ago. Your nose pressed against his neck as you sniffed.

He had the slightest musky smell, but overall he smelled like fresh spring water, linen, and a hint of birch. Just like he always did, the scent calming you like a pavlovian response as you blinked. 

“Oh this is unfair…” You grumbled, “You still smell like you’re fresh out of the shower.” You complained and Xavier chuckled, placing his hand against your hip.

“And I’m telling you that you smell fine, so let’s go relax on the couch.” Xavier said, tugging at your tank top as he tried getting you to come with him. You knew the moment you two were on the couch he was probably going to pass right out.

You hum as though thinking over your decisions before smiling, “Nope!” You said, popping the ‘p’. You grab another pocky stick and put it in your mouth then place the box down. Perhaps you should just take a quick shower and then cuddle with him on the couch; that seemed like the best compromise.

You start walking off, but Xavier’s grip on your hip tightened as he spun your body around until you were chest to chest with him. He leaned in, grabbing the end of your pocky stick and nibbling on it until your lips met in a sweet and short kiss.

You couldn’t help the small smile spreading across your face as he pressed against your lips again in a series of soft kisses. Xavier brought a hand up to adjust the angle of your face to where he wanted it, intent on enjoying this moment to the fullest.

You lean back, but Xavier was quick to pull you closer and finally pressed his lips back to yours with a purpose. His lips molded with yours perfectly and you could feel him nibbling on your lower lip, his warm hand going under your shirt to caress the skin there.

You open your mouth for him, tasting the sweet pocky that lingered there as he tilted your head. Your hands grasped at his shirt, dragging him into you as he grabbed you until your pelvis was pressed against his. You groaned into his mouth, loving how just his kisses could get your entire body feeling light.

When Xavier finally parts from your lips he can’t help but press his forehead against yours, painting slightly, “Maybe we should save that shower for later?” He said, implying what was to come.

You chuckle and lean up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Is this why you wanted to drag me to the couch?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief and the smirk he wore sent a shiver down your spine.

“It hadn’t been the initial intention.” He said, going to place a kiss on your cheek, moving down your jaw and then your neck, “But I started to think about how you were looking at me earlier and figured you wouldn’t mind.” He said, nipping at your exposed neck. You let out a small gasp, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh, so you noticed that?” You chuckled as his hands played with the band of your shorts. He was leaving wet kisses along the column of your neck and right behind your ear, and once again you felt a small nibble but this time it was on your ear.

“How could I not? First at the gym, and then when I was drinking water. It’s pretty obvious what was going through that pretty head of yours.” He said, nuzzling his face into you. You chuckled, “Now can I please take these off?”

One of your hands went over to his shoulder, while the other began threading through his hair, “Go right ahead.” You said, giving him the permission he was waiting for. He wasted no time, pulling your tight shorts and underwear off, letting them pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, kicking the articles of clothing to some random corner of the apartment.

Xaviers fingers slowly pressed against your slick folds, feeling how wet you had gotten just from kissing him. You groaned, feeling one of his fingers easily slipping into your heat without an ounce of resistance.

“All this from just watching me?” Xavier murmured, adding another finger and curling them. You gasped, feeling him hitting your sweet spot. Xavier knew how to play your body so easily that he could make you cum within minutes of toying with your body.

“Only for you, Xav.” You whispered, spreading your legs a bit to give him a better angle. Xavier groaned at your words, using his free hand to cup your face and dragging you in for another heated kiss. His tongue played against your own and you whimpered, feeling his fingers were intent on making you cum all over them.

“Fuck…” Xavier can’t help but groan, his fingers leaving you for a moment. You let out a whimper at the loss of something inside you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he hoisted you up. Your legs immediately went to hook around his torso. Your pelvis pressed right against his and you groaned at feeling his cock straining in his pants.

It was effortless on his part as he casually walked over to a wall, pressing your back against it and rutting his hips up into yours. You gasped at feeling how he ground into you, your walls clenching around nothing and you were tugging at his shirt, “Xav…” You whined his name out and he chuckled.

“I know, my star, but I need to do something first.” Xavier said as he seemed to struggle for a moment to stop grinding against you. You just felt so good against him even with a layer of fabric blocking him from you. Your cunt soaked into the fabric of his pants and he could feel every twitch of your pussy through them.

You let out a startled gasp as he managed to hoist you up higher, adjusting your legs until your legs were hooked around his shoulders, his hands firmly holding you up by your ass. He gave the flesh a teasing squeeze as he looked up at you.

He began peppering kisses along your thighs, enjoying how your thighs tensed for a moment under every small touch on his lips, “Xav, what are you planning?” It was damn obvious what he wanted, but you couldn’t help but flush at the thought.

“I just want a small taste.” Xavier said, his lips slowly trailing closer to your folds. You groaned, pushing his head away from you with a blush coating your cheeks and neck.

“N-not without a shower first, geez.” You said, but Xavier was on a mission. He looked up at you, utilizing his puppy eyes and making you groan in annoyance. You tried not looking at him, but he gave your ass another firm squeeze and your eyes snapped down.

You swore those sapphire eyes should be illegal. Just that look was enough to get you to fold every time…sometimes literally. You looked away again with a small pout before admitting defeat.

“F-fine…but I warned you…” You murmured, feeling positively embarrassed at your current position. However, that was all Xavier needed to hear as his tongue left his pink lips, slowly licking up your sopping cunt.

You let out a groan, your hand threading into his hair and tugging a bit as his tongue began working its magic on you. He really did know how to unravel you as his tongue went into your tight heat, curling up. His nose brushed up against your clit as he enthusiastically ate you out. The obscene wet noises made you close your eyes and bite your lip.

His mouth went to suck on your clit, making you moan loudly and your grip on his hair tightened. You could feel him groaning against you as your hips rolled into his face. He grabbed your ass, giving it a tight squeeze as he dragged you in impossibly closer, loving how you began grinding in earnest on his face.

Your thighs began shaking and you knew you were close with that familiar coiling in your stomach, “F-fuck Xa-Xavier!” You managed to squeak out, “C-close.” You said, before the tension inside of you snapped.

Your thighs clamping down on his head as you rode his face, loving how his tongue fucked you through the entire thing. He couldn’t help but watch you the entire time, your facial expression as you used his face for your own pleasure made his cock twitch.

After you rode it out, his tongue just made lazy circles around your clit until you were flinching away and relaxing your thighs so his head was no longer in a vice grip. You were panting as you stared down at him.

Xavier parted from your folds, your release dripping down from his chin as he licked his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks for the meal.” He said, pressing another kiss against your thigh. You flushed, looking away and covering your mouth with your hand. He chuckled at the bashful look you had as he readjusted you again.

It was too easy for him to lift you off his shoulders and place you back against the wall with your legs securely around his torso. He began leaving kisses along your face, rolling his hips back up against you. Despite having just comed, you groaned and rolled in time with him.

Your hand trailed between your bodies, pushing down his pants until his cock was free. The head was a bright red with precum dribbling from the tip freely. You used it to help lube up your grasp, giving him a few strokes and making his groan as he rolled in time with your hand.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of having his length down your throat. While he didn’t taste like candy, he had this certain, subtle taste that you could only describe as Xavier. You craved it and Xavier easily caught how your pink tongue darted out of your mouth as you looked down at his cock.

He leaned against you, his mouth against your ear, “You can suck it some other time, my star, for now I need to be inside you.” He said, making you shiver from the proximity. 

You let out a small whine of disappointment as he shifted you. You grasped his cock and lined it up with your pussy, groaning as he rutted his hips against your slick folds and bumping against your sensitive clit.

“Wouldn’t this be easier if we were on a couch?” You asked, worried about his arms. You knew he was strong, hell him casually lifting you up and down was testament to that, but you didn’t want him to tire out.

“Aren’t you the one who claimed we were too ‘stinky’ to lay on the couch?” He teased, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “Besides, our workout today was too light. I didn’t work on my arms at all.”

You chuckled despite feeling his blunt cock head pressing into your opening. Your chuckled slowly turned into a drawn out moan as he slipped inch by inch into your core. You could feel every bit of him, the one vein on the underside of his cock grazing against your walls and driving you insane.

He was guiding your hips onto him until you were finally settled fully on his cock, your pelvis flush against his own. He gave you a moment to adjust to his girth, taking his time to mark up your neck properly while you gripped at his shirt.

“Starlight?” Xavier murmured after a moment. You hummed in response, feeling how his cock twitched in response to just your voice, “Take your shirt off for me, please.” He said and you nodded.

He lifted his head, watching as your hands went under the edge of your tank top as you slowly took it off. You tossed it across the room before doing the same with your sports bra. The moment your chest was free, Xavier’s cock strained inside of you again. You groaned, rolling your hips on him and he bit back a groan of his own.

At the angle he was at, he could really only stare at your chest, so you decide to tease him. You leaned your back against the wall fully as your hands went up to cup your breasts, squeezing them together as you pinched your nipples.

Xavier groaned, finally thrusting up into you at seeing how you played with your own breasts. You gasped, your arms going around his shoulders quickly so you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to fall off him.

Your body was still leaned back so Xavier could watch how your breasts bounced with every thrust up into you. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to look. His eyes going to your face, your breasts, then finally where you two were connected. Your eyes trailed over his form, whimpering as your hands tugged at his sports tank.

“X-Xav…” You grumbled, wanting to feel his skin fully on you. Your hands tugging some more before wandering underneath to feel his hot skin. His abs flexed under your touch and you began rolling your hips with him.

“S-sorry Bunny, but I can’t take it off right now. Just bear with me.” Xavier grunted at seeing how upset you were about not being able to see him fully. If he went to take it off it would mean he’d have to set you down, and he didn’t want to be apart for even a moment. Not with how your hot walls seemed to suck him in.

You stopped putting up a fight, your hands moving to grab onto his exposed biceps as he began bouncing you on his cock. You were moaning without reservation; the sound of skin on skin slapping almost drowning it out. 

You felt Xavier pull his cock out until just the head remained before slamming back up into you. Your nails dug into his biceps at the sensation as you let out a high pitched mewl, leaning back into his body. He groaned at feeling how tightly your pussy clenched as he repeated the motion, angling his hips until he was slamming right into your sweet spot.

You could feel yourself being built up again, that tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach threatening to burst at any moment. It didn’t help that you were angled just right so every thrust had your clit grinding against him.

Xavier could feel how your walls pulsed around his length as he leaned over, “Go on, starlight, cum on my cock for me. Can you do that, beautiful?” He asked, not letting up his pace as he brutally abused your sweet spot like his life depended on it.

You felt that euphoric coil snap as your entire body tingled as you came, your walls becoming like a vice grip on Xavier’s length to the point where he could barely pump his cock in you. Your nails dug angry crescent shapes into his arms, stinging him and making Xavier groan. 

He continued fucking into you, his grip on your thighs just a bit tighter as he guided your cunt on him repeatidly. You were coming down from your high, already feeling another wash of arousal coursing through you.

You gasped, placing your head in the crook of his neck as you laid sloppy, wet kisses on anything you could reach, panting his name right on his shoulder.

Xavier’s dick twitched in response to hearing your wanton moans right up against his ear, “Just a little bit more, my star, almost there.” He grunted out, his hips rolling into yours until he could pick up his pace again.

You felt so overstimulated, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let him use your body like a toy. You leaned back against the wall again, your body bouncing delicious to every thrust of his. Xavier watched where he entered you, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as evidence of your release.

He groaned, “Where can I cum, starlight?” He said, not even knowing if he’d have the strength to pull out at this point.

Your entire body was buzzing and you could barely hear him with the blood rushing in your ears, “I-inside please, fuck Xav so close.” You murmured, your words coming out slurred as you felt a different tension in you. It wasn’t how you normally felt when you came and you squeezed your eyes, the pleasure getting to almost be too much.

Xavier let out an almost guttural growl as he bucked his hips into yours a few more times, his cock twitching with every rope of cum he shot into your tight heat. It was too much for you, your walls clamping down again as warm tears fell down your cheeks.

This time you felt a rush leave you, liquid squirting out of your cunt as you soaked his abs and lap in your juices. Xavier just watched, absolutely mesmerized by your release, his eyes widening as he continued pumping into you a few more times until he could see your legs shaking and you began mumbling something about it being too much.

He pulled out of you slowly, your combined release dripping onto his pants and the floor as he grabbed your legs tighter once he realized they were going slack. He leaned in, peppering kisses all over your face and neck.

“Did so good for my, my star, my galaxy, my love.” Xavier said, helping you come down from your high. You didn’t even realize the tears that had come out as you stared at him with glassy eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He asked once you started to look a bit more coherent. You murmured something, leaning in to nuzzle against his neck.

“M’fine…” You said, letting out a yawn. You felt absolutely spent and Xavier chuckled. You felt the cool wall leaving you as he began walking. You could hear him kicking off his pants that had probably been falling off his hips midway through your session.

You flinched at the fluorescent light as he flicked the switch on in the bathroom. He sat at the edge of the tub, turning on the water and feeling it to make sure it was the perfect temperature. You felt content, resting in his lap as the rushing water wanted to lull you off to sleep.

“Hey, come on, wake up. I don’t need you drowning in the bath.” Xavier teased, his soft voice wasn’t helping but you did open your eyes to look at him. You felt your breath being taken away at the look in his eyes, it was such a soft gaze that you knew was reserved just for you.

“Not gonna drown.” You said with a small pout and Xavier couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. You instinctively went to follow his mouth and he shook his head.

“Careful, I don’t know if you could handle another round if you get me riled up.” He said, a hand going to cup your cheek and wipe away the dried tears there. You were still pouting so he sighed, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“You’re joining me in the bath so it’s not like we have to worry about me drowning either way.” You pointed out to him.

“Who said I’d be joining you?” He couldn’t help but tease you. You just seemed so adorable at the moment.

“I did, obviously.” You said, then you tugged at his shirt, “Can we finally take this off?” You asked, noticing the bottom edge seemed to be absolutely soaked.

“That seems like a good idea.” Xavier said, going to take it off of him. You easily balanced on his leg as he ripped the sports tank off and threw it over to the laundry basket he kept in the bathroom. You looked down to see the thin happy trail he had was also soaked and you gave him a confused look. You two had fucked a lot, and you hadn’t seen his pelvis this wet before.

“Why are you dripping?” You said, glancing at the droplets glistening off his abs.

Xavier smirked, “You don’t remember squirting all over me?” He asked, his innocent demeanor was crushed by his words. How someone could look like an angel while saying that was a mystery.

As his words settled in you felt embarrassed, your hand going to cover your mouth, “Say sike.” You finally uttered.

“It’s the truth, Starshine.” He teased, “I’ll have to figure out how to recreate it another time so you can remember.” You groaned in despair and looked away.

“Can we forget that ever happened?” You murmured.

“No can do, it’s engraved in my mind. I won’t bring it up though if you’d prefer.” He said and you huffed before pushing him a bit towards the tub.

“Fine…now let’s get cleaned off…and then watch a movie on the couch.” Those demands seemed good with Xavier as he dragged you into the warm water below, content to have you snuggled against his chest as he worked on getting you both cleaned.

[minisugakoobies]

Mingyu 💞

💞 [ Reunion ] - A longing kiss shared after being apart for a while

This almost ended up being 1k 🤦‍♀️ I am sorry! But the 'gyu brainrot is REAL and it is STRONG 💕

**********

"You know, you didn't have to come."

You roll your eyes as Jeonghan repeats himself. True, your brother doesn’t really need any help picking up his friends from the airport, but you'd insisted on tagging along anyway.

"They're my friends, too," you declare.

"No, they're not." He glances at his watch, then shoots you a look. "You're not gonna be weird about this, right?"

You ignore him, choosing instead to focus your attention on the faces of the passengers now crowding around the luggage carousels, wishing you could brush aside the buzzing of your nerves just as easily as you shut out your brother's voice. The only thing weird right now is how excited you are to see your brother's annoying friends again. You've known Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu for ages.

It's been two months since the guys left for baseball spring training. Jeonghan normally would've been with them, but his broken ankle is keeping him benched this year. His incessant whining about being left behind made it a very long sixty days.

But the countdown is over. They're back. And you’re anxiously elated.

Because something changed in the few weeks leading up to their departure, between you and -

"Mingyu." His name falls from your lips as you spy him across the room. Even with his snapback pulled low on his face, you can see how his tanned skin glows, popping against his white tee. You bite back a sigh, wondering how it’s possible that he’s grown more gorgeous in just a few weeks. "I mean, I see the guys."

You lift your hand in a half point, half wave, and it catches Seungkwan’s attention, who then nudges Seungcheol, who in turn shoulder checks Mingyu. You feel the moment Mingyu’s eyes lock onto yours, stomach swooping like you’re in freefall when his lips lift in a soft smile.

You come crashing back down to earth as the other guys spot your brother. The regression is immediate, all four of them suddenly obnoxious teenagers again, with their secret handshakes and crushing bro hugs and unreasonably loud ballbusting. This is how they always say hello, so it doesn’t faze you one bit, though it does make quite a few of the other travelers standing around you glare.

Once they’ve finished their raucous greeting ritual, the luggage carousel begins to move, and all you get are a few quick head nods before the guys start pulling their bags off the conveyor belt. Your heart sinks a little.

Weird, don’t be weird, you think, plastering a blithe smile on your face and pretending to laugh as Seungcheol not so subtly trips Seungkwan with his roller suitcase. Maybe it was weird for you to expect more of a reaction from Mingyu. The two of you had only hung out a few times, a couple of casual dinners, some drinks, one movie, and then, the night before he left - 

Well, maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it did. The two of you had talked a little bit while he was gone, but never about anything serious. You suppose you could’ve asked him about it, but you knew he’d be busy with baseball, and maybe also you didn’t want to know. 

Your mind remains thusly occupied as you follow the guys out to your brother’s beat-up car. Jeonghan pops the trunk from the driver’s seat, using his now-healed ankle as an excuse to get out of helping them. Seungkwan and Seungcheol hastily toss their bags into the tiny space and clamber into the backseat, leaving Mingyu sighing in frustration.

“Thanks for the help, assholes.” 

“Here, let me,” you mutter, not quite looking Mingyu in the eye as you join him.

Together, the two of you rearrange the bags, trying to make everything fit. While the other guys sit in the car loudly fighting over where to grab lunch, you and Mingyu work quietly, in a comfortable silence. It makes you think that maybe it’ll be okay, if things go back to the way they always were before, even if your pulse still races the way around Mingyu the way it’s doing now. 

It’s not until the trunk closes that you finally meet his gaze. Mingyu smiles, that slow-spreading smile of his that makes you weak in the knees, and leans toward you, voice hushed as he speaks. “Sorry I didn’t get to give you a proper greeting earlier. Is it okay if I do now?” 

You’ve no idea what that means but your answer is, of course, yes, an emphatic head nod that makes Mingyu huff out a surprised (and pleased) laugh. His hands drop to your hips, shuffling you towards him just the slightest bit, and then he’s kissing you, lips moving against yours, slowly, longingly, like he’s been dreaming of this moment for two months and is bound and determined to make sure you feel it. 

Weird, how you’re surrounded by hundreds of strangers pouring out of the airport, and yet it feels like there’s no one else around. 

At least, not until your brother lays on the horn.

[samandcolbyownme]

OMGGG?? THE VAMPIRE SNC WAS SOOO GOOD?? UR WORK NEVER DISAPPOINTS I'M ALSO JUST HAVING A VAMPIRE SNC BRAINROT 😭 (and I'm living off crumbs from the 5 vampire fanfics I can find lmaooo)

Part One

Warnings: SMUT18+, compulsion, strong language, swearing, mentions of blood, blood drinking, vampire!Sam and Colby, THREESOME, kissing, choking, hair pulling, fingering, biting, scratching, creampie, oral (all), filth

Word Count: 1.7k | unedited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Colby pushes the side door open, shaking his head as he walks out into the ally, “No. I’m not going with on this little escapade.”

You huff, “I’m not going home. There’s nothing left for me there.”

“So what? You’re just going to travel the world, enjoying a drink from each continent?” Colby asks and you and Sam both nod, agreeing in unison, “Yep.”

“Of course.” Colby rolls his eyes, “You both know that either of you not having any sort of humanity is not good for anybody, right?”

“Good for us.” You shrug and Sam nudges you, nodding to Colby. You take a quiet breath, slowly walking up to him, “You know, it could be good for you, too, Colby.”

Colby pushes your hand off of his chest, “Fuck off, y/n. I’m not doing this.”

“Why? Because you’re the fun police and can’t manage to have a good time?” You tilt your head, “You know it’s okay to let go sometimes.”

You walk around him, hands sliding up his back and over his shoulders, “That time is with us, Colbs. You know we’ll treat you right.”

You move out from behind Colby, walking over to Sam, “I don’t think he wants to, baby.”

Sam tsks his tongue, “Shame.” Sam shakes his head, looking up at Colby, “He has no idea what he’s missing.”

“Come on. Off to our next place.” You pull Sam, walking away from Colby when he’s suddenly in front of you, “Where are you going?”

“What’s it to you? You just want to get in the way of everything.” You push past him and he grabs your arm, whipping you back into his chest, “You’re such a bitch anymore.”

You stare up at him, smirking slowly as you see his lips twitch, “You love it. Admit it.”

“Maybe when we get to where we’re going.”

——

After arriving at one of Colby’s old hangouts, they let you have the floor. Watching you move your way effortlessly through the crowd of unsuspecting people.

“Don’t move and don’t make a sound.” You stare into the eyes of a random woman who stares off as you sink your teeth into her flesh.

You feel a hand on your back, smirking as you lift your head away to find Colby standing behind you. His eyes flick down to your blood covered chin and you can see his breath catch in his throat.

“What?” You tilt your head, “Want a taste?”

Colby licks his lips, “I do, but not from her.” He grabs the back of your neck, spinning the girl around to stare into her eyes, “Get the fuck out of here.”

She quickly leaves and Colby turns towards you and quickly leans in, his tongue dragging to lick up the red smear, “Fuck.” He groans, gripping your hip with his other hand, “Fuck you guys for making me do this.”

You lean back, watching as Colby closes his eyes and suddenly, his safe, caring demeanor, was gone.

“There he is.” You bite your lip, smirking as you slide your hand down to interlock his fingers with yours, “Come with me.”

You walk up to Sam and he pushes himself away from the banister, “See you still know where that switch it.”

Colby shrugs, laying his arm over your shoulder, “You guys really know how to flick it, don’t you?” He rolls his eyes, glancing down at you with a smirk, “Alright. When does the fun start?”

Sam moves to your other side, wrapping his arm around your waist, “anytime. She’s ours now, Colby.”

Sam’s words entice you, turn you on to the max.

You grab Sam, pushing him up against the closest wall, “Haven’t had you all night.” You mumble as you walk up to him, “Need you now.”

He smirks as you lean in, pressing your lips to his. You feel Colby’s body press against your back and his hands find your hips.

You kiss down Sam’s neck before Colby spins you around, “Where we going?” His eyes scan your face as his thumb traces over the dried blood streaks, “Shit, you are so pretty.”

Your hands slide up his chest, “We can go anywhere you want.”

“C’mon.” Sam nudges you and you both follow him to the bathroom. Colby grabs a a guy by his forearm and looks into his eyes, “Put an out of order sign on this door and don’t ask questions.”

The guy nods, immediately going to fetch a sign and Colby pushes you in after Sam. He closes the door, twisting the lock before dashing over to you.

Your hands are pinned above your head and Colby’s lips are on yours. You moan against them, finally knowing what his lips feel like, taste like.

His hand slides down your arm to your throat, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“You.” You gasp out as he pushes his knee between your thighs, “Fuck, Colby.” Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down and moaning out as his lips find your neck.

Your eyes meet Sam’s as he walks up next to you, sliding his hand up your thigh as his nose brushes against your temple, “Such a needy girl.”

Sam takes you from Colby, quickly moving you over to the sink and setting you down. His hands free the button on your jeans, and you gasp as you feel his fingers slide in your underwear.

“Just take them off.” You push him back, standing up so you can push them down. Colby’s hand finds your neck as his teeth nip at your ear lobe, “Don’t be such a fuckin’ brat, baby.”

You smirk, moaning out as Sam’s fingers slip into your aching cunt, “The brattier I am, the rougher the sex.” You tilt your head back slightly, a squeak leaving your throat as Colby’s grip grows tighter.

Your eyes roll back as Sam drops to his knees, lips attaching to your clit. Your hand goes to his head, rocking your hips slightly as your vision starts to grow darker.

Colby’s grip loosens on your neck and you take a sharp breath, “Fuck, fuck yes.” You look down at Sam, spreading your legs more as you grip the counter, whining out as you feel yourself growing closer.

“Gonna cum for him, hmm?” Colby brushes hair from your face and you nod, hips rolling as Sam groans against you before standing up.

You whine, “I was so close.”

He turns you around, bending you down next to the sink, “I know.” He gives up is smirk as you glance back at him, biting down onto your lip as you watch him undo his jeans.

Colby’s fingers turn your chin towards him and you reach up, one elbow holding your weight on the counter, and free his cock.

You lick your lips, eyes squeezing shut as you feel Sam’s thrusts his cock into you with a groan, “Fuck, I love the way your pussy always squeezes me.”

Colby steps closer, watching as you wrap your hand around his cock and lean into it. Your tongue swirls around the tip, moaning from the grip Sam has on your hips, and his cock pounding into you.

You moan out loudly, and Colby takes the opportunity to shove his cock between your parted lips, groaning as you push your head down further, “That’s it.”

Colby runs a hand over your head, bucking his hips as he tilts his head back slightly, “Fucking hell, so good at this, baby.”

“Just like that.” Colby’s fingers tangle in your hair to hold your head still. Your eyes roll closed as Sam reaches around and circles your clit with his fingers, his other hand pressed onto the small of your back, “Such a slut for us.”

Your moans are muffled by Colby’s cock. He pulls his hips back and looks at Sam, “I need her, Sam.”

You whimper as Sam’s cock slides out of you and you watch as he walks around to where Colby was, switching places.

Sam grips your chin as Colby’s cock glides into you.

You moan out louder, reaching up to grab onto Sam’s forearm as you look up at him. His thumb brushes over your lips and you take it into your mouth, sucking as you moan from Colby’s rough thrusts.

His grip on your hips is tight, pulling you back with each of his thrusts to meet his hips, “I’ll fuck the brattiness right out of you.”

Colby groans, “You have no idea, y/n.”

Sam takes his thumb from your lips, replacing it with his cock.

He groans, laying a hand on the back of your head as you bob up and down, moaning around him.

He gasps, gaining a tight grip on your hair as he pushes your head down more. You hold it there for a few seconds before popping off, pushing yourself back to meet Colby’s thrusts, “I’m gonna cum, don’t fucking stop.”

“What are you gonna do if I stop?” Colby asks, slowly but roughly thrusting into you, “Huh?”

You roll your eyes and Colby’s hand moves up your back to grip your hair, yanking your head back, “Answer me, little brat? You got me to turn my humanity off, answering me is the least you can do.”

You laugh, moaning lowly, “nothing. Just please don’t stop.”

Sam’s cock slips past your lips and into your throat.

His hands lift your head up and down, moaning loudly as his hips buck.

“That’s it.” Sam groans, “Taking us so fucking well.”

You look up at Sam, moaning loudly as you cum around Colby. Colby’s grip tightens as he pulls you back, pumping his cum inside of you.

Sam pulls his cock away, stroking himself a few times before his cum spills out onto your lips and tongue.

He groans as he watches you lick your lips, collecting every drop on your tongue. He tilts his head, shaking it as he pulls you to stand up straight, “We better go find a hotel or something for the night.”

“Whys that?” You play dumb, “Are you not done with me yet?”

Colby presses his chest to your back as he pulls your jeans up, “Far from it, sweetheart. I could get used to this.”

——

The smut felt kind of rushed, I’m sorry! But I wanted to get something I’ve been working on out. Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so so much! See you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[everythingsbetterunderthestars]

TIMEBOMB SHIPPERS IVE GOT YOU!! The brainrot is too strong I need non French speakers to suffer with me so here’s a translation I made (instead of doing my homework) of Ma meilleure ennemie by Stromae and Pomme (the song that plays when Ekko and Powder are dancing in arcane s2 ep7)

[Intro]

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

[Verse 1: Stromae]

You’re the best thing that’s happened to me

But also the worst thing that’s happened to me

That day where I met you, I would maybe have preferred

That that day had never happened (happened)

The worst of benedictions

The most beautiful of maledictions

From you, I should get away

But as the saying goes:

“Rather than be alone, better to be in bad company”

[Pre-chorus: Stromae, Stromae & Pomme, Pomme]

You know what they say

Be close to your dearest friends

But also

Even closer to your opponents

[Chorus: Stromae, Pomme]

But my best enemy is you

Run away from me, the worst is you and me

But if you’re still looking for my voice

Forget me, the worst is you and me

[Verse 2: Pomme]

Why does your name hurt me

When it hides right there in space?

Which emotion is it, hate

Or softness, when I hear your name?

[Pre-chorus: Pomme]

I told you: “Don’t look back”

The past that follows you makes war on you

[Chorus: Stromae & Pomme]

But my best enemy is you

Run away from me, the worst is you and me

But my best enemy is you

Run away from me, the worst is you and me

[Outro]

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

I love you, I’m waiting for you, I love you, I’m waiting for you

EDIT: The loop in the intro and outro actually says “I love you, I’m leaving you” (according to the lyrics in the description of the official riot games music YouTube video), but I put “I love you, I’m waiting for you” because that’s what the lyrics were according to Genius (which is where I looked them up before I found out about the official video), and it’s also noteworthy that upon first listening to it I heard “I love you, I hate you” because the fact that the only part we can hear clearly is the I love you, but the second part of the lyric is too distorted to fully make out, so really it could be either one of the three options (thematically, all of them work) but what matters is most is the love… I will never be okay again thanks for asking

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!minho. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. angst galore. reader is sick. minho is a soft and doting bf. reader has a fainting scare/high temp/migraine. slight possessive behavior from minho (but in a cute and soft way, i promise!!). pet names (affectionately). cuteness overload.

word count: 8.3k

summary: it's the dead of winter when you suddenly come down with a bad case of the flu. and your doting boyfriend minho is more than happy and willing to help you through the pain.

a/n: yes, i am fully on the brainwashing and brainrotting train that is writing minho out to be a soft, caring bf. don't come for me, it's one of the only pleasures in my life rn!! i wrote this in one sitting (and yes, most of the content in here is based off of my own experience with the flu this past year), so it might be horrible or really amazing. lmk what ya'll think and if you'd like more of this content from me! :))

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟ���ᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The first symptom of the flu to come upon you was a sore throat. It happened just after you and Minho had finished eating dinner - since it was a Wednesday night, Chinese takeout had been on the menu. 

 You were laying in bed, already cozied up in your pajamas and snuggled under the thick coverlets, reading one of the winter-themed books that you had recently checked out at your local library. When, all of a sudden, your throat started to feel scratchy. Every few minutes, you kept reaching over to your nightstand table to take a sip from the glass of water that you always kept there. 

 Just then Minho came out of the master bedroom’s adjoining bathroom, clad in the black sweatpants that he always wore to bed. He was shirtless since his hot-blooded self could never fall asleep if he had too many clothes on. You got a clear view of his chiseled chest muscles and sinewy biceps as he padded over to you with his slippers on and gave your forehead a gentle kiss. 

 When he pulled away from you and saw the discomfort that was evident in the way your brows were furrowed together, he frowned slightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, tucking a few strands of your loose hair behind your ear as he peered down at you with those sparkly, expressive doe-eyes of his. 

 “I don’t know, my throat hurts all of a sudden.” You said, swallowing over the painful scratch in your mouth. 

 “Did you drink some water?” 

 “Yeah, but it’s not helping…” 

 “Let me make you some warm tea, then,” your boyfriend reached down and tenderly squeezed your forearm with a tiny smile stretching across his lips. “Surely that will help you feel better.” 

 “But- Min, it’s too late, you worked so much today… it’s okay, I can make it,” you protested, catching hold of his wrist and stopping him from leaving your side. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, even as your throat was screaming at you for something warm. 

 “It’s okay, kitten. Making the tea will only take a few minutes, and then I’ll be right back in bed with you.” Just then he bent into you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and ruffling some of your hair with a wide grin on his face. “Wanna help you, baby, hmm?” 

 And how could you deny that face? Those words? So, you released your grasp over him and watched him flood from the bedroom. Not a minute later you heard rummaging in the kitchen, as your loving boyfriend began to prepare a cup of tea for you. 

 In his absence, you tried - and failed - to get comfortable in bed again. Your book was long forgotten on your nightstand, and your throat had gotten so progressively worse over a few minutes that swallowing was starting to hurt. 

 Just when you thought you couldn’t take waiting any longer, Minho walked through your bedroom door with a huge, steaming mug in his hands. “It’s lemon-chamomile flavour… I added some honey for extra comfort, too.” He said as he placed it into your outstretched palms. 

 “Thank you, baby- don’t deserve you.” You mumbled in a quiet voice, offering him a tiny smile. 

 “Does it hurt to talk?” He asked as he turned off the lamp on your nightstand before rounding the bed and joining you on his side. He got comfortable underneath the thick duvet before switching off the last remaining light in the bedroom. 

 Everything was thrown into darkness around you, and for a moment, you were disoriented. But then you felt a familiar hand reach over to you and grasp one of your free hands, squeezing slightly, and you relaxed into your pillows. 

 “Yeah, kinda…” Your voice trailed off into the night as you took a sip of the tea. It was piping hot, but even still, felt amazing as it went down. You could already feel the chamomile and honey concoction soothing your discomfort away. “This tastes amazing, Min. Thank you.” 

 Minho snuggled deeper into the covers, shivering a few times from the chill in the air. It was the dead of winter and even with the heat blasting throughout your shared apartment, your place always seemed to have a cold draft traveling between the few rooms. “I’m glad you like it.” Your boyfriend’s voice was heavy, indicating that he was truly exhausted. 

 You leaned over to him and carded a few fingers through his dark, chestnut-brown hair. “Now, go to sleep, you workaholic. You’ve got a jam-packed schedule for the rest of the week.” You said into the quiet that had suddenly fallen over the bedroom. 

 Your words suddenly had Minho groaning into his pillow, “Don’t even fucking remind me about tomorrow’s schedule- it’s gonna be hell, for sure,” he began in that deep voice of his that would always come out late at night. You had told him many times in the past that you loved the sound of it, to which he cockily said that he’d try to stay up later with you so that way you could hear it more and gush over how sexy he sounded. Secretly, he loved the praise… a little too much, if you were truly honest with yourself. “You’ll be okay to go to bed?” He suddenly asked, bringing you out of your reverie of thought on his sultry ‘night voice.’

 “Just fine,” you whispered, snuggling down under the sheets. You could already feel the heat that was radiating off of Minho’s body, as he slowly warmed the two of you up just with his hot-blooded self alone. 

 “Okay, then… goodnight, my baby. Feel better in the morning, yeah?” 

 “Goodnight Min. And sure, I’ll try to.” You replied in a quiet voice. 

 And then there was no reply from your boyfriend, as he swiftly drifted off to dreamland. After you had finished your tea, you snuggled up against him, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pressing your back against his inviting, bare chest. The chamomile had helped immensely to take the ache in your throat away, and in no time at all, you were joining Minho in dreamland.

 When you woke up the next day, your throat hurt like a bitch. You had thought that the night before had been bad, but nothing compared to how dry and scratchy it felt so early in the morning. 

 Turning over on your side with a groan, you cracked your eyes open against the bright light shining through from the bedroom’s large bay window. You noticed how Minho’s space was already empty. You shifted a palm across his pillow, noting the coldness of the satin fabric. 

 Stumbling out of bed a few minutes later, you realized how quiet the apartment was. With a glance at the nearby clock on your nightstand, the time read just past seven in the morning. Minho was already long gone.

 Since your sore throat had only gotten worse overnight, you deemed yourself unfit to go to work that day. So after having called up your manager and telling her that you had to take a sick day, you slowly got ready for the day. The hot shower worked somewhat in relieving your throat pain, but not by much. And by the time you had dried your hair, brushed your teeth, and thrown on some comfy sweats and one of the many hoodies that you had stolen from Minho throughout your relationship, a spilling migraine had begun to bloom across your temples. 

 “Just my luck…” You mumbled to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen. With a glance around the adjacent living room/dining room, you noticed how the apartment looked more tidy than usual. Your boyfriend must’ve cleaned the place before he left early that morning. The thought of him picking up because you didn’t feel well left a wide smile on your face as your trudged to the fridge. 

 Having opened the thing, you noticed a huge soup pot that was covered with a lit, sitting on the middle shelf. A note was attached to the top of it, and it read, 

 Baby, 

 Made some rice porridge for you this morning. Didn’t have time to wake you up to tell you, so only kissed you goodbye. Text me after you’re finished eating- I haven’t made the recipe in a while and want to know how I did. 

 Love you, and hope you feel better, 

 - Min XX 

 You felt the emotions rising inside of you as you read the small note again, and soon, your eyes were turning watery from unshed tears. He truly was the best boyfriend ever. Minho was the type of guy who liked to share his love for you in actions. He loved cooking for you and cleaning for you. But over time, since you two had started dating, he had slowly become more expressive with his feelings through words as well. It was a nice change that you gladly welcomed and it made your heart all fuzzy to know that he was trying to be a better lover for you alone. 

 In no time at all, you had heated a portion of rice porridge for yourself. It was chock full of tender, flavourful chicken, and tons of veggies - like carrots, mushrooms, and even zucchini. You drizzled some fish sauce and soy sauce on top of it and used the chopped-up scallions that Minho had left for you to garnish the porridge. 

 You took a picture to send to your boyfriend before you dug into the meal. And instantly, you felt so much better. The heat of the porridge slid down your throat and coated your insides with a fuzzy, comforting feeling. It was so very delectable and you finished it in just a few minutes. After you were done eating, you made sure to take some ibuprofen that you had on hand to try and combat the splitting migraine that was upon you. 

 Sending the picture you had taken earlier of your meal, you quickly texted Minho.

Min Today 10:03

Me: Just had the porridge… WHY have you never made this for me before?! It was amazing!! 

 Within a minute, he texted back. 

Min: Wow, I had no idea you’d like it that much, I’ll have to make it again. It makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed it. :) Did it help with your sore throat? You looked to be in discomfort when I left this morning… 

Me: Yes! The porridge really soothed me, I feel better already! 

Min: Ok, I’m glad then :) You took off work today, right? 

Me: I mean, yeah, since I can barely talk :( 

Min: Awe baby :( I’m so sorry. Just rest today, I’ll try to be home earlier than I was last night. 

Me: I’ll just be laying in bed all day haha… and ok, have a good day at work! Love you &lt;3

Min: Love you too &lt;;33

 Staring at the bright screen of your phone was only making your headache worse, so you turned it off and trekked back to your bed. The exhaustion hit you as soon as your back hit the soft mattress, and halfway through the comfort movie you had turned on on the tv, you were already drifting off to sleep. 

 Late that same night, the fever started. At first, your cheeks were just flushed, which could happen from time to time. But then, the back of your neck started to feel warm too. And soon, it felt like your entire body had been doused in a scorching hot pit of lava. 

 Keeping to his word, Minho arrived home an entire hour earlier than the night before. When he walked through the apartment’s front door at eleven with both hands full of groceries, you immediately stood up from the living room couch to help him unpack. 

 “No, no- I’ve got it. Go sit back down,” he insisted, trying to shoo you away with his hand as he placed the many bags atop the kitchen counter. 

 You peeked into one of them and saw a huge box of multi-flavoured popsicles. “What’s all this for?” You mumbled in a weak voice. 

 “You, my dear… want to cook some good meals to help you feel better,” Minho said, turning you towards him so that he could get a good look at your face. When he noticed the deep crimson flush that stretched across your cheeks and traveled down to the part of your next that was exposed from your - formerly his - baggy hoodie, his brows furrowed. “Baby, do you feel warm?” The light in his eyes flashed with concern as he gently pressed a hand against your cheek and forehead. 

 “Y-yeah, a little…” 

 “You’re burning up,” Minho said, voice a little panicked as he led you back over to the living room couch, the groceries suddenly forgotten. You had only ever gotten a fever once before in all the time that you two had been dating, and it hadn’t been all that bad, to begin with. And it sure as hell hadn’t made you feel as hot as you did just then. “Here, let me get the thermometer.” 

 Then he was gone from your side and rushing into your bedroom, in search of the only thermometer you kept on hand. Resting against the couch, you tried to focus on anything else but the soreness in your throat and the heat that flooded through your veins just then. The headache had come back with a vengeance a little earlier that night, the ibuprofen wearing off fairly quickly. Much to your demise.  

 Minho was beside you again a few minutes later, thermometer in hand. “Baby, open for me,” he instructed, and you opened your mouth slightly so that he could slide the small thing under your tongue. The metal felt cold against your teeth, and time seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly, as you two sat there on the couch and waited for the reading. When it finally beeped loudly, Minho took it out and inspected it. “Nighty-nine-point-eight. You’ve definitely got a fever.” 

 You closed your eyes then, resting an arm across your eyes and groaning into the crook of your elbow. Even your eyelids felt hot. “Fuck- I’ll have to take off more sick days from work. I really can’t afford to do that-”

 “Kitten, I think that’s the least of your worries right now,” your boyfriend said softly just beside you. You felt his hand wrap around your knee and squeeze the skin there gently. “I’m going to get some cold rags, okay? Just- stay here.” By the way that his voice had turned a little high-pitched, you could tell how he was slowly starting to get stressed out about the whole thing. Which was saying a lot, since there wasn’t much in the world that could stress him out. 

 The two of you rarely fell ill, and when you did, it was always a mild case of the cold. So for you to have so many symptoms all at once, must’ve been very overwhelming for your boyfriend. But, what could you do? The sickness was here, and it was here to stay… 

 You felt something cold press against your forehead amid your thoughts, and you cracked your tired eyes open to glimpse Minho leaning towards you on the couch, two other wet washcloths in hand. 

 “These will help to cool you down,” he explained, as he helped move you forward a little bit so that he could place the second cloth behind your neck. Then you let him guide you so that you were fully laying down on the couch, limbs sprawled out. You were too sapped of energy to even ask what he was doing as he gingerly lifted your oversized hoodie. When you felt the coldness of a third, and final washcloth press against your stomach, you understood his sudden actions. “You should take some ibuprofen, that’ll help bring your fever down.” 

 “I can’t take it without first eating something.” 

 “Then I’ll make you some food- did you have dinner?” 

 You shook your head no, the motion only making your pounding headache worse. You winced and grabbed at your head, massaging one of your temples. 

 “How about I heat some of the rice porridge from earlier?” Minho offered before standing up from his kneeling position on the ground.

 But just as he was about to leave your side, you stopped him by grasping at the fabric of his dark-blue sweatpants by his knees. He was still sweaty from the apparent dance practice that he had been doing in the studio just before he came home. “No- I- I’m too nauseous to eat anything right now.” You mumbled, voice cracking a little bit from the pain that was solidly rooted in your throat. Your cheeks were so hot, it felt like you had gotten a sunburn while laying out on the beach, when in reality- you had been lying around your apartment all day, not even catching a single glimpse of the sun through the hazy January clouds outside. 

 “Okay, well, maybe you can take the medicine later when you feel a little better,” Minho said. He was squatting down at your side then, brushing back your hair from your forehead. “Just rest on the couch here while I put the groceries away, and then we can go to bed.” 

 You nodded in understanding, too tired to say anything else as he kissed your hot cheek and finally pulled away from your side.

 That night turned out to be absolutely horrendous. 

 You tossed and turned throughout it, not being able to get comfortable. The cold washcloths had done little to help bring your fever down, and the throat lozenges that Minho had gotten for you at the grocery store earlier merely coated your throat in this weird aftertaste that left you coughing for half of the night. 

 Not to mention the headache. 

 Which had turned into a full-blown migraine. 

 The ache wrapped around your entire head, and it felt like someone had your skull in a vice-like grip, squeezing and squeezing the very life out of it. 

 Your boyfriend, who stayed up with you for the entirety of the night, was a literal fucking saint. He made trips into the bathroom every hour to dampen your washcloths with cold water again and regularly made you tea to try and help relieve your throat. 

 “Min- baby- you need to stop helping me now,” you whispered through the daze of tiredness. Because if you were drained, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend had to feel - what with having worked for the better half of sixteen hours that day. “You have so much on your plate right now, I can’t expect you to stay up all night just because I’m feeling like shit.” 

 “S’okay, I’m not sleepy…” But the way his quiet voice drifted off at the end of his words proved differently to you. 

 You turned on your side in bed, catching a glimpse of your boyfriend’s slumped form through the faint moonlight that shined through the bedroom window’s curtains. His shoulders were hunched over, his head hanging low, as he massaged languid circles into the palm of your closest hand. 

 “Yes, you are. Now, go to sleep.” You said firmly, pushing on his shoulders so that his head hit his pillow. 

 At your forceful movement, his eyes shot open. “I can’t leave you like this- baby, you’re in so much fucking pain right now. I-I feel horrible that I can’t help you more.” He said, his tone desperate. He threaded his fingers through yours then, squeezing a little desperately, trying to convey how strongly he felt about staying up with you and helping you practically survive the night. 

 “I know babe, I know…” You pushed away a few locks of his dark, chestnut-brown hair that had fallen in front of his face, giving him a soft smile. “But you need to sleep now, okay? That’s how you can help me feel better- by going to bed. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.” 

 Minho was silent for a few beats, as you stared into each other's eyes. You were both incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be, but on this topic- you wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t jeopardize his packed schedule while also letting the boys down just because you weren’t feeling well. 

 “Alright,” he finally surrendered in a defeated-sounding voice. “But, you’ll wake me up if anything happens, right?” 

 “Of course.” You leaned down into him and gave the crown of his head a soft kiss. “Love you, Min.” 

 “Love you too…” He said, his eyes already closed. And just like that, you watched his face relax, body melting into the soft downy mattress, as he finally drifted off to sleep. 

 And hopefully, you’d soon join him in blissful sleep as well. 

 Turns out that you didn’t get a wink of shut-eye that night, tossing and turning underneath your thin sheet - you had thrown off the thick duvet coverlet that had been laid on top of you early on in the night. A thick coating of sweat covered your entire body, even with the cold washcloths still placed on you. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had been out like a light. 

 In your sleepless, frail daze, you hadn’t managed to catch him as he left for work early the next morning. But as soon as your eyes opened, your head throbbed from the bright light flooding through your bedroom’s curtains, and a strong wave of nausea overtook you. 

 You shot from your bed and barely made it to the bathroom. You leaned over the toilet bowl and hurled up the little contents that were left inside of you. The only thing you had eaten the day before was the rice porridge that Minho had made for you in the morning and two strawberry-mango-flavoured popsicles to try and ease your throat. 

 It still hurt like hell, and your head was pounding from your migraine. When you leaned back from the toilet, a loud groan escaped past your lips from the distress that you were in. You sat there on the cold, tiled bathroom floor for a few minutes, just taking in deep breaths and trying to persuade yourself to get up when all you felt like doing was tipping over and passing out from exhaustion. 

 In the end, you managed to get up from the hard ground and brush your teeth before making your way back to your nightstand, where you had glimpsed a small piece of paper placed just atop your latest pick from your local library. The nightstand’s clock read just half-past ten o’clock in the morning. 

 You probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Try to take a nap sometime today when you can. 

 You need to eat something, but, if you’re too nauseous, at least drink lots of water. There’s some Pocari Sweat in the fridge, so drink plenty of that. 

 And please, try to take some ibuprofen if you can. It will help bring down your fever. Checked it before I left, temp is now at 102.8. It should’ve broken in the night.  

 Call/text me whenever you want to, I’ll be available all day and will be home even earlier than yesterday. 

Love you, Minho XX

 Even through your confused state of pain and weariness, a smile graced your lips at your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness. Since you rarely got sick, it was uncommon for you to experience this exact side of him. It was a whole kind of new Lee Minho, and to be honest, you quite liked it. And although the doting could be a little excessive and suffocating, it was the thought that counted, right? 

 Somehow, you found enough energy inside of you to get up from your comfy bed and into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your skin, and did wonders for your bad migraine. You stood under the spout for at least twenty minutes - maybe even more than that. And when you were too tired to keep standing, you sat down on the cold tile of the stall. The steam that the scalding water emitted all around you also helped to calm your inflamed throat down, and you basked in the comforting feeling for quite a while. 

 It was only after you stepped out of the shower, legs slightly wobbly, that you realized your mistake. 

 You had a fucking fever, for God’s sake- 

 It should’ve been very obvious to you- 

 Not to take a scalding hot shower for that long. 

 Even still, there was no turning back. And almost immediately, you felt the repercussions of your actions. As you wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body and grabbed for the blow dryer, you suddenly felt very lightheaded. 

 And not the kind of lightheaded that you would sometimes get if you stood up from a sitting position too quickly. 

 No, this kind of lightheadedness was the kind where you felt like you were about to fucking pass out. 

 Just then, you realized how hot your entire body felt. You thought that it had been bad before- but nothing compared to the sheer heat that radiated off of your body. 

 With a racing heart and shaking limbs, you slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, clutching onto the wall for support. Your vision was going in and out, turning so blurry that you could barely see in front of you. 

 You fumbled around your nightstand for your phone, and with quaking fingers, you dialed Minho’s number as fast as you could. You were standing just beside your bed, legs feeling like they were about to give out on you. You were so weary and confused and felt like you were about to fall over, so half of what you were doing didn’t even make sense to you. But you knew that you had to get ahold of your boyfriend- in that scary moment, that was the most important thing to you. 

 The phone rang once, 

 Twice, 

 Three times. 

 Please, just fucking pick up- 

 Please don’t be in a meeting or at practice or- 

 “Baby? I’m so glad you called, how are you-” His gentle, serene voice rang out across your phone’s speaker that was pressed to your ear. 

 You let out a sob of relief, the tears finally flowing down your cheeks. “M-Min, I-I can’t-“ It was hard for you to speak over the dizziness and confusion. 

 “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” Minho’s voice immediately turned frantic at your mumblings. 

 “S-So dizzy- got out of the shower and- and gonna pass out- help me, Min, please-” It felt like your knees were about to buckle just then, but Minho’s voice cut through your heated stupor. 

 “Lie down right now, baby. You close to the bed?” 

 “Y-yeah-”

 “Lie down, completely stretch out your body. Can you do that for me?” 

 You said nothing more, shifting towards your bed and collapsing on top of it with a tiny gasp of exhaustion. “I-I’m on it-”

 “I’m leaving the company right now,” Minho’s exclamation broke through your daze of fatigue. 

 “W-What? Baby- no, don’t- you have an important recording today and-”

 “To hell with the schedule!” He was suddenly shouting through the phone, making you pull it away from your ear from the loudness. It only made your headache worse. When he heard your whimper of pain, he began speaking again but in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, baby- it’s just that, the company can’t expect me to go to work when the fucking love of my life is about to pass out from the flu that she has.” His voice was much calmer this time and helped to soothe your racing heart a little bit. Your limbs were still shaking though, your vision going in and out. 

 There was silence on both your ends, as your slow mind processed his words. You heard shuffling on his line and muffled voices. Then he was talking to someone - it sounded like Chan - their whispers were hard to hear over the static of the phone. 

 “Baby?” Minho’s voice cut through your tiredness. You opened your eyes weakly, trying to focus your attention on the painting that hung on the wall just beside your flatscreen tv. It was of a single, pink tulip positioned in a grassy field. The piece was something that Hyunjin had gifted you for your birthday in the past year. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until I get home, okay? Just keep talking to me - about anything - just don’t close your eyes, alright?” 

 His instructions seemed like absolute torture to you right then, because all you wanted to do was close your eyes and let go - let your mind drift off into wonderland for even a few blissful seconds. “I’ll try,” you started, voice quiet as you nuzzled into the bed’s thick duvet that was still messed up from the night before. You hadn’t found the energy to make it yet. “I-I threw up this morning.” 

 “Oh, darling- I’m so sorry I wasn’t there… but, I’ll be there soon, yeah? I’ll take care of you, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” His tone was laced with concern, and a tiny smile spread across your lips at how attentive he was being toward you. 

 The entire thirty-minute commute that he took every day from your apartment to the company, you stayed on the line with your boyfriend, talking about whatever came to your mind. You were still nauseous, so food was never brought up, mainly just the changing weather and what you wanted to do that weekend since he’d have a break from schedules that Saturday, which was quite a rare occurrence for him. 

 Laying down on the bed had helped your dizziness somewhat, but every time you shifted just a little bit, your vision would go blurry again. It was annoying as fuck, to add yet another symptom to your myriad of other problems. 

 “I’m pulling up to the apartment right now, so I’ll hang up. Wait for me, baby.” Minho finally said after what felt like an eternity of him traveling home from the company. You mumbled an incoherent ‘yes’ before he hung up the call. 

 True to your promise, you kept your eyes open, laying as still as a statue on the bed. You were back to studying Hyunjin’s flower painting just as you heard the front door’s keypad being used. A breath of relief left you as shuffling echoed throughout the one-bedroom apartment, and in no time at all, there your boyfriend was- rushing into your bedroom with a wild look in his eyes and flushed cheeks, his dark brows furrowed.  

 “Kitten-“ he breathed out in a sight of relief at the sight of your still-awake form, “C’mere.” He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door before he was bounding towards you. In one swift movement, he was lifting you off the bed, taking you up into his arms, and cradling your head against his chest as he sat back down on the bed’s plush mattress. 

 The tears started again almost as soon as he had you in his arms. Your sobs wracked through your body, as he brushed soothing fingers through your hair. You knew that crying would only make your migraine worse, but you couldn’t give a flying fuck about anything just then. You were just so happy to see your boyfriend, after such a disastrous morning. 

 “Y-You came back for me,” you sniffled after a long bout of silence that was filled with only your cries. You pulled away from his chest, looking up at him through blurry vision. “I-I was so scared, Min.”

 Minho swiped his thumbs underneath your eyes, gently catching your falling tears with the pads of his soft fingers. “Of course I did, baby. I love you… and it kills me to see you this way. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.” 

 “Just glad you’re here now,” you whispered, clutching onto his waist a little harder. “I’ll feel better now with just your presence alone… but, how long are you staying for?” 

 He tucked a few strands of your still-sopping wet hair behind your ear. In your dizziness, you hadn’t found the time to dry it yet. “Not leaving you again, darling. The company gave me the day off, Chan helped me persuade them.” 

 “B-But you’re gonna miss such an important day of schedules and-”

 Your boyfriend shushed you with a slender finger to your lips. “It’s already done now, Y/N. So let’s just focus on helping you feel better, alright? By firstly, getting you dressed.” 

 You looked down and realized that you were still only clad in your soaked towel. “Wow, I didn’t even realize I was still in this…” Your voice trailed off, as Minho placed you back down on the bed and made for your walk-in closet. 

 “Is it a sweatpants and hoodie kinda day again?” He asked as he poked his head into the closet. 

 “A-Actually, I’m too hot to wear anything thick,” you managed to stutter out, perched at the edge of the bed. And soon enough, your loving, doting boyfriend emerged from the closet with a pair of soft, black cotton shorts and a thin, maroon-colored camisole. 

 “Will this do?” He questioned, holding up the items for you to inspect them from across the room.

 Wordlessly, you nodded your approval. And soon enough, he was shifting his way toward you. In no time at all, he had helped slip the shorts up your bare legs, the loose waistband resting gently against your hips. Then, he guided the camisole over your head, gently pulling the thin spaghetti straps over your shoulders. 

 “All good?” Leaning forward, he tucked a piece of your wet hair that had fallen into the front of your face behind your ear. 

 “Mhm- but my hair’s still wet from the shower,” you mumbled, staring up into his dark pupils that were dancing with a myriad of emotions - but especially, concern. “Carry me?” You asked, reaching out your arms to him, supple and waiting, like a small baby that wanted to be carried by someone they trusted. 

 “Always, kitten.” He whispered, just as he pulled you up into his hold. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he charged for the bathroom. And soon, you were sitting atop the granite counter, as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

 The blow dryer was loud in your ears, and the heat from it only seemed to raise your temperature even more. You still had your legs wound around Minho’s torso as he worked with nimble fingers to dry your hair. You tipped your head towards his hand every time he ran a brush through your locks. 

 When he was finished, he pressed a palm against your forehead for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re still burning up, baby…” His voice trailed off, as he leaned across the counter, grabbing a stray hair bobble. He pulled your hair away from your face and fitted it into a loose ponytail at the back of your head. Immediately upon the feeling of your thick locks being out of your face, a content sigh of relief escaped past your lips. “I really need you to take that ibuprofen, honey.” A deep frown bloomed across his lips, turning his mouth downwards in a displeased kind of way. 

 “My migraine isn’t as bad as it was earlier, so I think I can choke something down now.” You said. Your eyes were still closed, as you breathed in the familiar scent - of warm, dark roasted coffee and cinnamon sticks - of your boyfriend. 

 And in no time at all, he had you seated on the living room couch, your eyes trailing over the food that he prepared for lunch. There was a bowl of the porridge that he had made the day before, a piece of plain, white buttered toast, and a yellowed banana. Not to mention the medicine set off to the side with a tall glass of water. 

 “Eat, baby.” Your boyfriend took hold of the tray that the food was on and positioned it on your lap. 

 He was sitting beside you on the couch, gaze locked on your form with a certain kind of intensity that would make you anxious if you didn’t know him so well. The intensity he had was only borne out of concern. He so desperately wanted you to get better, that’s all. 

 “Thank you, Min… it looks delicious.” You pecked his cheek gently, watching as a soft smile cracked across his lips before you delved into the lunch. 

 You had to admit, the food was exceptionally good. The porridge helped to alleviate your throat, and the bread filled your stomach comfortably. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had truly been until you started eating. But halfway through the meal, you stopped when you noticed how your boyfriend hadn’t moved from his spot of watching you. 

 “Aren’t you going to join me?” You asked, motioning towards your spoon that was laden with porridge. 

 He shook his head slowly, “Want to take care of you first, that’s all.” 

 You gave him a deep frown. “Min, you're already taking care of me. Just making this meal is enough for me.” 

 “I know, but I wasn’t here earlier- don’t want to take my eyes off you for even a second, in case something happens.” 

 “I’m not going to pass out, baby. I’m fine now. So please, eat some lunch, yeah?” 

 “You still have the flu, Y/N. Just because you haven’t passed out yet doesn’t mean you won’t in the future,” Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest, canting his head to the side, eyes trailing on your red-cheeked face. “And I want to be sure I’m here to catch you if that happens.” 

 “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence…” You grumbled softly, turning your attention back to your cooling porridge. There was no use fighting him on the matter anyway. He was a stubborn mule when he wanted to be, and apparently, Minho would run himself ragged before he ever looked away from you again. 

 It was only after you had finished your lunch, and had downed four ibuprofen pills and a glass of water with it, that Minho finally got up from the couch to put your dishes away and make something for himself. He rounded the couch a few minutes later, pressing a cold washcloth against your head. The sudden coolness surprised you, and you slightly sat up from your laying position on the couch to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. 

 Minho took a seat at the end of the couch, near your feet, a plate of food in his hands. For his meal, he was having a rather bland-looking sandwich, with a green apple sliced thin set off to the side. 

 “That’s all you’re having to eat?” You raised an eyebrow at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him. 

 His gaze was already on you even before you met his stare, as he bit into his sandwich. “Don’t pass judgment on my habits when you hadn’t eaten anything until just now.” 

 “But I’m the one who’s sick here…” You protested, shaking your head in disapproval at the lack of food on his plate. He was a growing guy, always in the gym, always straining his body for work. He needed to eat enough to fuel himself properly. Changbin was always harping about such things to the boys, but especially, your boyfriend. Since, as Changbin put it, ‘he never seems to get enough macros in for his height and weight range.’ Whatever the hell that meant. 

 To that, Minho said nothing, merely biting into his sandwich once more. His silence only made you more agitated with him, and that, coupled with your slightly-pounding migraine and your drowsiness only helped to add fuel to the fire. 

 “I”m worried about you, Min… you need to eat more if you want-”

 “You’re worried?” He suddenly let out a dry, humorless scoff. And instantly, you recognized his tone. In the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor shifted. It changed from the intensity he had from caring for you, to the intensity that he always got whenever he was worked up. Whenever he was worked up about you, and your safety. “I’m the one who’s fucking worried here, Y/N!” He practically burst out in a loud voice, throwing his plate down on the nearby coffee table in his sudden exclamation. 

 “Minho-” You began in a soft voice but you were quickly cut off by his raising voice once more. 

 “Do you have any fucking idea how scary it was to get a call from you this morning and have you practically fighting for your very life to not pass out right then and there?” He ran a few frantic fingers through his hair, clutching at the roots, slightly bending over, and resting his elbows against his knees. “Because damn it- I was practically shaking from all the worry. And then I come home and find you literally naked and sopping wet and crying and-” Just then, his voice cracked, his words fading off into the distance. 

 And in the next beat, you were moving. Towards him, so that you were right up in his personal space. You took hold of one of his hands, pulling it away from tugging at his locks of brown hair. Squeezing your fingers between his own, you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand. 

 “Baby, I’m so sorry… it’s my fault that everything became such a big mess. I didn’t have to take such a long, hot shower.” You admitted, giving his skin another kiss. 

 Minho pulled his head up just then, as it had dropped between his hunched shoulders in his distress. His eyes slid over to yours instantly. “Don’t apologize, none of this is your fault. You were only trying to relieve your symptoms, I get it.” He held onto your hand a little tighter, like in that moment, he needed to be grounded in the reality of you. That you were still there with him, still living and breathing, albeit tired as hell and ill to the bone. But still, there nonetheless. “And please, just... don’t leave me, okay? I can’t lose you, baby… I can’t…” His voice became a tiny whisper at the end of his words, misery flashing across his face, radiating deep in the way that his eyes softened at the sight of you, his brows creasing with the tears that he could never seem to shed. 

 “Min, I have the flu… not the damn plague.” You laughed, lips grazing his hand again as you placed another peck against his skin. “And of course, I’m not going to leave you.” 

 “Good, because I’m never going to leave you either.” And suddenly, he was taking hold of you, pulling you onto his lap and burrowing his face into the crook of your exposed neck. He blew raspberry kisses against your heated skin, making you burst out into a fit of giggles. You kicked your feet up into the air, trying to escape him as his nimble fingers tickled you at your sides. 

 And all at once, just for a few minutes, he helped you forget about everything - about your sickness, the discomfort, and the fatigue. All of it. Helping by kissing away the swarthy thoughts and tension-filled temples. 

 Later that day, your fever finally broke. The medicine seemed to kick in just in time and helped to completely take away your headache. Your throat still felt dry and scratchy, but continually downing warm cups of tea was slowly helping that. You and Minho spent the day lounging around the apartment, watching random reality shows that were playing on the tv, and indulging in a whole pint of chocolate ice cream an hour before bed. 

 But despite having all that sugar and caffeine right before laying down, you found that sleep threatened to take over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

 “Will you go in to work tomorrow?” You asked, laying on your side and facing your boyfriend as he sprawled out in the bed just a little ways away from you. 

 “I don’t know… I hope not.” 

 “The boys will need you, baby. I think you should.” 

 After all, he was an integral part of the team. He couldn’t simply disappear from Stray Kids for even a few days and not have them feel the lasting effects of his absence. 

 “Let’s not worry about that and just focus on going to bed, okay?” He reached out to you, clutching onto your hip and pulling you towards him. 

 When your forehead was comfortably rested against his bare, muscled chest, you peered up at him with a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks for taking care of me today, honey. I don’t deserve you…” 

 He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his voice rumbling with sleep as he spoke, “I’ll do anything for you, kitten. And of course, you deserve me- I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” 

 Without another word said between the two of you, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. Your boyfriend's comforting scent washed over you, seeming to soothe a tender spot inside of you, and all at once, you were falling fast and hard into a deep slumber. 

 The first thing you noticed when you awoke the following morning was that for once in what felt like an eternity, the blinding morning light shining through the bedroom curtains didn’t automatically make you feel like shit. Instead, it helped to place a content feeling deep inside your heart. 

 And the second thing that you noticed when you awoke the following morning was the fact that your boyfriend was still in bed. 

 He had both arms wrapped around your waist, and when you dragged away from his chest, a muffled groan fled from his slightly-parted lips. 

 With a glance at your nearby clock, you noticed how it was well past the time that he usually got up for work. 

 Minho cracked an eye open from the shifting of your figure, a lazy smirk blooming across his mouth at the sight of your eyebrows raising on your forehead in surprise. “Guess I won’t be going in to work after all…” He said, voice husky with sleep. 

 You squirmed in his arms until you were loose enough to get a good look at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and suddenly, you thought that perhaps the huskiness of his voice wasn’t just from sleep. “Why are you staying home today? I thought you said you were going to go into the office.” 

 Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, that same smirk was still on his face. “The sore throat woke me up in the middle of the night.” 

 A loud groan bubbled up and out of you, as you scrubbed a frustrated hand across your face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

 “Hey- well, at least you’re feeling somewhat better now… that way, you can take care of me when I nearly pass out after a hot shower.” 

 With that, you shoved at his shoulder gently, sending a glare his way. “This isn’t funny, Min. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to me- shouldn’t have kissed me! Now you can’t go to work for God knows how long because of this stupid flu!” 

 He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, batting away your worries like he didn’t have seven other boys who depended on him, like he didn’t have a whole company counting on his work, like he didn’t have millions of worldwide fans anticipating his presence. “Eh- to hell with it all, I was bored with work anyway. And besides, I cannot ever stop myself from kissing you, baby. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s hardwired into my brain as a daily need to function.” He gave you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes exasperatingly. 

 “You're so stupid,” you grumbled, hating the idea of seeing him go through the same pain you went through. You had survived the worst of it already, but you wouldn’t wish it on anyone - not even your worst enemy. “Well, you better promise that you won’t be a pain in my ass and actually accept my help when you need it.” 

 He shook his head noncommittally, “I shall make no such promises.” You felt a hand clutch at one of your sides, just as he was pulling you against his warm body once more. “Now, c’mere and give me a kiss.” 

 You smiled against his mouth, melting into his hold as he pressed kiss after soft kiss to your lips. 

 Because even though now you were both sick, 

 At least you had each other. 

 And at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered…

 That Minho had you, and you had him. 

 So even despite feeling like a literal ball of hot, steamy garbage baking in the summer heat, 

 You felt like, at that moment, you could whether anything in life - any storm coming your way, any curve ball thrown at you, any toxic person coming into your path, 

 Just as long as you had him by your side. 

 As long as you had Lee Minho, your beautiful, loving, eccentric, doting boyfriend, you’d be just fine. 

 Fin.

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[nameuserlee]

“You don’t need to be so cautious. I won’t break.”

You know the drill. This is the latest compilation of Sylus’ lines, from interacting with him at the café. I’ve made it my mission to spread his words. Part 5 (links back to part 4, and so forth.)

“There was a shooting star just now. You didn’t clasp your hands together, so you missed your chance at a wish.”

“Aren’t you tired of standing on your tiptoes? Would like me to ask someone to bring over a stool?”

“Even when you sat on that bar stool, your head barely reached my shoulder.” (I’d flex my height all the time too if I were him, I get it.)

“Are you trying to balance a coin on my collarbone or something?”

“Is this supposed to be comforting? It’s an odd sensation. Only the weak seek comfort. I don’t need it.” (In response to a head pat.)

“My head hurts now. Keep patting it.” (Yeah, that’s what I thought, you big softie.)

“I’m not sleepy. But I want to close my eyes when you do this.” (Patting his head.)

“When you’re sad, you can always lean on my shoulder.”

“You can lean on me whenever you want. Don’t hesitate.”

“A person’s fingers are far away from the heart, but they say all fingers are connected to the heart. Isn’t it strange?”

“Are you feeling cold again? Move a little closer. And hold my hand.”

“You should wear a blindfold next time we play. Let’s see if you can still find my hand.”

“Are you interested in this? Well, you’re welcome to visit my bedroom after dawn, kitten. If you dare.”

“This area has experienced severe injuries. But all wounds heal eventually.” (In reference to his abdomen/waist.)

“In cases where you can’t carry a gun, your body becomes your best weapon.”

“Emotions can easily affect a person’s decision-making, don’t you think?”

“I won’t flatter or lie to you.”

“Movie villains always wear masks. But in real life, masks don’t need to be physical.”

“What does my face look like in your eyes?”

“You don’t need to read my palm. I don’t believe in destiny but in myself.”

Okay. Now, I really think this is gonna be the last compilation for a while. Over 100 lines compiled in total, and there’s STILL a bunch I could include, but I feel like the ones I have left are less interesting/more common, so we’ll let them be for now.

Sylus is such an intriguing and compelling character, and I love how much of his personality shows through all of these lines, and how he’s much more complex than what his archetype would lead you to believe. From fluff, to serious, to cheeky, romantic and flirtatious lines, this man does it all.

The brainrot is, and will continue to be strong.

[f0xgl0v3]

How does one Elias Bouchard hold his Pipe/The overall murder scene

Tw this like entire post is about the proper way to hold a pipe if you wanna effectively hit someone with it several times repeatedly :3 also spoilers for MAG 80

Guys I am simply a writer and this is just for writing and thought experiment purposes, none of this shall or should be applied to real life and it’s just for the haha extended sounds of brutal pipe murder-

What has come to my life-? I’m talking about Elias Bouchard and how he holds the Pipe to murder people- I, there will be actual Percy Jackson stuff soon. Maybe talking about Camp Jupiter and armor and gear and stuff or something however,

Everyone draws Elias with really weird hand positions on the pipe-? That’s a weird thing to say and the art is fantastic but if your beating someone with a Pipe then there seems to be a way I always thought in my head-

Let’s, for the sake that I’m halfway through season 4 consider the only Pipe murder I am currently aware of would be Jurgen Leitner’s, we can work with this. Elias is standing over him at the other side of a desk while Jurgen is seated I believe-? There are a couple ways we can go about this,

1) Elias hits him while they both are in the neutral position at the desk

2) Elias walks over to Jurgen’s side during the conversation and hits him then

3) Jurgen stands up from his chair and then Elias hits him.

I have had to listen to the sound clip so many times for this- I- okay. So, the beginning of the murder still is Jurgen talking, I think audibly a bit worried. I’d like to make the assumption that while Elias is like “bird stuff always a risk about death” that is when the pipe is revealed, Jurgen is taking the moment to try and reason with him and I think 2 and 3 are the most viable due to the sound they use. In 1’s scenario Elias wouldn’t get enough strength in that first swing (due to the desk being in the way, and Elias most likely having to lean over the desk to try and get a strong strike.

Then, the sound- I believe Elias initially hits Jurgen from the side of the head, think like the same ‘row’ that your temples are on, that vague side of the head. Jurgen is heard with a grunt by the first hit; we don’t hear him fall or anything (which makes me suspect it could be a situation of Elias walking over to the other side of the table) and it doesn’t really sound like Elias moves where he hits very much- continuing to strike that original spot; otherwise we’d likely hear the crunch of bone. Am I making the assumption that the sound design would include the crunch and that I would know what hitting a skull with a metal pipe is, oh yeah totally.

Now, that settles how I think this entire thing played out, Elias revealing the pipe as he walks over to the side, Jurgen looks up in old sad man still seated and is trying to reason with Elias, maybe he even attempts to get up and that is when Elias strikes in the right side of his head (just what makes sense to me, it could be the left either it wouldn’t matter much) and repeatedly hits there 11 times (yes I counted the strikes we hear, no I don’t have anything better to do with my time because I’m putting off writing a script) before like dipping or whatever.

Now, the pipe posture if you will. I see so many drawings of Elias’s hands like this,

Raised, and for all intents and purposes from an art sense it’s rad. It’s a dynamic pose and stuff, and of course this is not a critique on artists (who are way better than me) and how they want to draw this fictional man hold his pipe. However this is my brainrot talking on the ‘hey I think this is how he’d get the most effective swing’ because I’ve listened to two seasons back to back and I no longer have a brain.

But; Elias Bouchard wants the most bang for his buck so to speak. I think holding the Pipe like the tried and true baseball bat would provide this. Elias holding it like in my very bad diagram is good if he’d want to poke or stab someone with the pipe, but it’s really effective if you can get that swing in. So yeah, baseball style; hands together near the end of the pipe and over a shoulder or even over his head if you want to be silly with his posing.

Uh, haha okay. I’m sorry but the rot is all consuming and I’ve been thinking about him a lot, also like Peter Lukas and a bunch of the other sillies but this kinda- forced itself out while I was looking at art of the scene. I, uh, :3 that’s all. I like thinking about the mapping and layout and planning of scenes like these and how the visuals might’ve looked if there were visuals. I promise I probably won’t make any more posts like this for a solid while (however, talking about Bryce Lawerence and my thing in SoN are-imagining that he was the one to kill Gwen… maybe.)

[operation-steal-chans-laptop]

Okay, hear me out,

Soft dom! Changbin who grabs you as soon as you step out of the shower with just your bathrobe covering you and takes you to the living room without giving you a chance to get dressed, all while softly kissing and caressing you, the usual nice and quiet evenings you guys spend together

Changbin who sits onto the couch first and then sits you down on his lap, your back against his chest as he finds the sensitive spot behind your ear and makes sure to give it extra attention while he softly grabs and caresses your tummy and its pillow soft rolls

Changbin who unties your robe and is so well aware of how sensitive your tits are for him and uses it to his full advantage to while he holds you firm with his other big strong arm in his lap while you get more squirmy and needy for him

Changbin who then feels up your folds and smirks at how wet he's gotten you within minutes, calling you his good, needy girl as he keeps going, watching you slowly go further deep into your subspace while rubs your wetness all around, with your head lolling back onto his shoulder

Changbin who calls your name out and tries to draw your attention to him to ask you to open your eyes but you're too far gone to hear him over your moans so he stops for a few seconds, just to slap your pretty cunt next and chuckles a little as he watches your eyes snap open and focus on his face. He then grabs your face while squishing both your cheeks and makes you look a little to your left, for you to finally look at the full-length mirror he got fixed next to the tv unit, as you watch his eyes viciously trained onto your cunt through the mirror

"I possibly could never get enough of how pretty you look in my hold like this, all vulnerable, fuzzy, and fucked out for me. Its only fair you get to have a look at yourself like this too princess"

~~~~~~~~~

Bruh the changbin brainrot is so fucking real my brain is mush rn because of this man

Also can I get an anon emote?

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!? Thank you for blessing me with this!!!!!!! I really don’t have much to add to it because practically perfect, but here’s what I can contribute to this masterpiece <3

—

Your head rests on his shoulder, watching yourself in the mirror, admiring the way his hands grab hold of your waist and how his biceps flex as he helps you grind on him. You watch how his body rolls so fluidly up into yours and they way his grip tightens as he gets closer to release. Once again, your eyes begin to flutter shut. Changbin’s breathy grunts fanning your ear and sweet praises rolling off his tongue, “look how good you take it. I fit in you so well, don’t I baby? It’s like we’re meant for each other. Doing such a good job for me. So pretty” After a while, you can’t hear his praises anymore your pleasure all consuming as you near your high.

—

Of course you can get an anon emote! Choose whatever one you’d like sweetheart <3

[reasonablerodents]

rattie! because i am a petulant child with incurable brainrot, i am going to request you test out a little hotchgan. an argument ending in a kiss is so good, hotch having to apologize and morgan accepting the apology with a kiss is top shelf, but i'm not picky. as long as it is the two of them.

A fresh piping hot hotchgan argument and kisses, just for you!!!! I hope I did them justice!! Despite never writing them before, I really enjoyed it! Very soft and tender and ready to do anything for the other <333

Whilst I may not be a hotchgan scholar, I feel like when they argue, it seems to pretty much be only out of genuine concern for each other, which is what I was trying to go for here!

Bring It On Home To Me

Aaron Hotchner/Derek Morgan, Established Relationship, Make Up Kisses

* * * * * * * * * *

“You said that you’d only be another hour,” Derek points out when Aaron finally gets home, three hours later than he’d promised.

“I know.” Aaron says with a sigh, setting his briefcase down on the kitchen table and going to the fridge, looking for the leftovers he knows will be there.

“It would’ve been better three hours ago.”

“I know, Derek.”

“Then why didn’t you come back three hours ago?”

Aaron presses a few buttons on the microwave, a little bit harder than he needs to. “I was busy,” he mumbles, watching the plate spin around instead of the disappointment on his boyfriend’s face.

“You’re always busy.”

“And you’ve always been aware of that.”

The tone is far more bitter than he had meant it to be. No sooner have the words left his mouth, he cringes internally. He was the one in the wrong- he hadn’t even texted Derek to say he’d be late. Aaron’s not even sure why he’s arguing.

The microwave hums.

Derek traces the kitchen tiles with his toe.

Aaron picks at his fingers.

He knows it’s up to him to fix this.

“I’m sorry.”

He can sense his boyfriend moving closer, so he turns around, finally meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d walked in. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look as upset as Aaron had feared- instead, his soft brown eyes are filled with concern. Derek grasps the hand that Aaron’s been picking at, holding it in both of his own.

“Thank you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m not mad at you, Aaron. I’m just worried. I know how you get, and it’s not good for you. You’re gonna stress yourself out, end up hurting yourself.”

Aaron’s just about to say something, but Derek keeps on talking.

“I know how hard the job can be, okay? But I’m not gonna sit back and watch as it takes you over again. I need Aaron, not Agent Hotchner. And Aaron needs to come home when he says he will.”

How he had even managed to end up with a man so understanding was completely beyond him- and he hadn't even had to look outside of his team to find him. When he replies, his voice is a little tighter than usual, a small lump in his throat constricting his vocal cords.

“You’re right, Derek, I’m sorry.” If Derek notices the way his voice shakes a little, he doesn’t say anything, just soothingly rubs circles into his boyfriend’s hand with one of his thumbs. Aaron swallows. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron leans in then, gently catching Derek’s lips with his own. It’s slow, tender, full of unspoken promises.

I’ll do better. I’ll look after myself, and I’ll make more time for you.

Derek drops the hand he’s holding in favour of wrapping his arms around Aaron instead. His embrace is strong, always is. He hugs like he never means to let go, but it’s never cloying, only ever comforting.

I know. I just don’t want to see you struggle. I’ve always got you.

The microwave beeps.

Aaron pulls away first, but he laces his fingers behind Derek’s waist, keeping him close. “Thank you for making dinner,” he murmurs. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I’ll even cook dessert.”

“Mom’s apple pie?” Derek smiles.

“Mom’s apple pie.”

[bambinella]

Cuddles and Therapy

A/N: The LIS brainrot continues, so it was the original game's turn. I'm still in love with Chloe and Max so I simply had to write for them. Art belongs to this amazing artist! Enjoy!

Summary: It's been six months since the events of Arcadia Bay and Max still struggles with nightmares and guilt. Chloe is determined to make her feel better.

Warnings: Spoilers for Life is Strange ending, hurt/comfort and fluff/tickling!

I'm not sure if it's still a spoiler since the game came out in 2015 but oh well

Word Count: 2822

“Chloe!” Max cried out as she shot up straight, startling both herself and Chloe who had been laying next to her on the bed.

“Woah Max! Are you okay?” Chloe asked, sitting up straight as she looked at her girlfriend. Max, like all the previous times when she had either awoken from a nightmare or had been yeeted back to reality after time traveling, immediately threw her arms around the teen and hugged her tightly.

“Oh Chloe!” She nearly sobbed, burying her face into Chloe’s shoulder. It had been six months since the events of Arcadia Bay, and for the entirety of those six months Max had been plagued with guilt, anxiety and fear, which resulted in some of her worst nightmares of her life. Even without her ability to rewind time, which she swore never to use again unless it meant saving Chloe, she was forced to relive the same horrible day over and over again in her dreams. Jefferson kidnapping and drugging her, the tornado swallowing Arcadia Bay whole and everyone in it. Everyone who she had doomed to die. But worst of all? The overwhelming feeling of loss when she thought about Chloe being killed. All that she had endured was nothing compared to the thought of living without Chloe.

Chloe was used to Max’ nightmares by now, and while she herself didn’t really suffer from them, she really hated seeing Max in such pain. So she gently wrapped her arms around her smaller girlfriend and rocked her back and forth while gently running her fingers through her brown hair. It took a few minutes, and plenty of sobs, but Max eventually calmed down. She buried her nose in the crook of Chloe’s neck one more time to inhale the comforting scent before pulling away. Chloe was alive. Chloe was here with her, and they were safe. Everything was okay.

“Sorry about that,” She mumbled, slightly embarrassed by the sudden outburst now that she had calmed down. Chloe playfully rolled her eyes.

“Of course you would say sorry for having a nightmare. C’mere,” She said, suddenly wrapping an arm around Max’ shoulder as she pulled the two of them down to the bed, spooning her from behind.

“Chloe!” Max giggled, the sound making Chloe’s heart flutter with joy. When Max tried to sit up again, two strong arms wrapped around her and trapped her in the hug.

“Nope, not happening. You’re staying right here with me,” Chloe declared, her breath tickling Max’ neck which made her giggle again.

“Oh no, what ever shall I do now?” She said sarcastically, yet smiled widely. She turned her head to place a kiss on Chloe’s arm, who hummed approvingly.

“Want to talk about it? About your nightmare?” Chloe asked, and Max’ smile faltered slightly. Even though she had calmed down and was happily laying in Chloe’s arms, the dream still left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was the same thing over and over again, however, and she didn’t want to bother Chloe with it. Again. So she shook her head.

“Nah. I’m fine,” She said, causing Chloe to huff in disbelief.

“Who do you think you’re fooling?” She said, and while Max couldn’t see it she could practically feel the roll of her eyes. Chloe released her from the hug, only to settle down on Max’ hips so she could look down at her. While her girlfriend was smiling at her, her eyes were still puffy and she could see the worry and sadness. So she merely raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to bother you with it. I struggle, that doesn’t mean you have to,” Max mumbled, avoiding eye-contact with the blue haired teen. 

“Maxine Caulfield, you have about five seconds to tell me, or else…” Chloe smirked, reaching down to softly poke the front of Max’ ribs. The brunette yelped in surprise and couldn’t hold back her choked giggles, her hands immediately grabbing Chloe’s wrists. It was futile, however, as Chloe was much stronger than her.

“Okay okay I’ll tehehehell!” Max laughed, and Chloe stopped to look at her with a smug yet soft smile, to encourage her. She sighed. “It’s the same nightmare I always have. It starts with Jefferson… shooting you in the head, then kidnapping me to the dark room, and it ends with the town being destroyed.” Chloe’s jaw clenched as she thought of her mom, before quickly shaking her head. She’d mourn later, Max needed her now.

“I’m sorry you have to go through that again and again,” She said softly, not sure what else to say. 

“No matter how you twist it, I’m still responsible for that storm. I’m the reason the entire town got wiped out. And while I took peace with my decision a while ago, I still feel so guilty for all those people that got killed by the tornado. But at the same time, if I didn’t use my powers or chose differently you would have died and I simply cannot have that, I can’t–”

“Hey shhh, it’s okay,” Chloe cooed, leaning in to press her forehead against Max’ while gently cupping her cheeks. It was so unfair that Max still suffered like this, especially after everything she’d been through. She couldn’t imagine being in Max’ position, having to make such terrible and difficult choices.

“It’s not okay, Chloe,–” Max sighed, yet before she could continue spiraling down that negative way of thinking, Chloe laid herself on top of her. This never failed to calm her down.

“You know what’s not okay? The fact that you had to make decisions like that. You’re 18, Max, you shouldn’t have been given a responsibility like that. You didn’t ask for your powers, but you got them anyway and know what? You handled it the best you could. You used them to help people and do good. You’re a good person Max, and you’re amazing. Don’t you ever forget it,” She said, cuddling into the younger teen.

“... Thank you, Chloe,” Was all she could say, wrapping her arms around her. Sometimes she really needed to hear those words out loud, especially after a nightmare like that. They cuddled in a comfortable silence for a while, until Max gently tapped Chloe’s side.

“As much as I love your cuddles, I can’t feel my legs like this,” She said lightheartedly. Chloe could immediately tell that Max was feeling slightly better, and smiled.

“Hmm I don’t know, I’m quite comfortable like this,” She grinned, earning a playful slap against her tattooed arm.

“So that means I’m going to be trapped in this hug-prison forever?” The brunette questioned with a raised brow. Thinking about it, it didn’t sound that bad after all.

“Depends. Are you going to turn back into Super Max, or remain Sulky Max?” Chloe teased as she sat herself on top of Max’ hips again, earning a gasp from the younger girl.

“I’m so going to hit you! I’ll have you know that I’m not sulking. And even if I was sulking, it’s not like I want to be in a sad or sour mood, y’know, my brain just doesn’t listen to my demands,” She huffed.

“Well, then maybe I should have a little chat with your brain,” Chloe said with a playful eye-roll and a smile. Max couldn’t help but laugh at that. At this point she was concerned Chloe’s eyes would roll out of her head if she kept it up.

“How do you think you’ll convince my brain if you don’t have one yourself to begin with?” Max smirked, making Chloe’s jaw drop.

“Oh getting sassy are we? Now I’m definitely having that chat! Say your prayers, Caulfield!” She grinned, wiggling her fingers in the air as she loomed over the brunette. Max gasped as she realized what Chloe was going to do.

“Wait! Chloe wait! No dohohon’t!” Max giggled as she held her hands up in defense. Chloe shook her head at her fondly.

“Max you’re so fucking adorable, I’m not even touching you yet! After all these years, you’re still you,” She smirked, easily slipping past Max’ defense to tickle her sides. The teen arched her back and immediately let out a steady stream of giggles.

“Chloehehehhe! Stohohop!” She cried out, grabbing hold of Chloe’s arms. Similar to before, it didn’t help her at all.

“Stop? Oh but I’m just getting started,” Chloe smiled widely, playfully clawing at her stomach. Despite wearing her pajamas, the thin cloth of her t-shirt provided zero to no protection at all. 

“Aahhahahaa!” Max squealed and kicked her legs on the bed, trying to find a good grip so she could buck her girlfriend off. Oh who was she kidding, even without being a giggling mess it was impossible to beat Chloe in strength. She had no chance.

“All I need to do is flood your brain with happy thoughts, right? So I just gotta keep tickling you! I know you loved being tickled when we were kids, so I’m pretty sure you still love it now, right?” Chloe teased. That little! 

“You’re sohohoho meehehehean!” Max whined at the teasing, hiding her blushing cheeks behind her hands. Chloe had always been too good at reading her, even without super powers. Chloe grinned at that.

“Oh you think I’m mean yet? Just you wait~” She promised, sending butterflies straight to Max’ stomach. Since Max had raised her arms to hide her face, she took the opportunity to flutter her nails under her arms. 

“Nohoho! Not thehehehere!! NO! OHOHO CHLOEHEHE!” Max wheezed and immediately slammed her arms to her sides, trapping the invading hands in place. This was, of course, all part of Chloe’s plan, as she simply kept wiggling her fingers.

“Not there? But Max, my hands are stuck! I can’t move on if you keep them like this,” Chloe teased, wiggling her nails a bit faster into her hollows. Knowing she didn’t have any other option, Max gathered all her strength and lifted her arms up so Chloe could pull her hands free. To her surprise, she did pull her hands away, only to grab Max’ wrists and pin them down over her head with one hand. 

“Oh come on! You tricked me!” She playfully cried out as quickly caught her breath, looking up at Chloe who smirked right back at her.

“Max, Max, Max. Not only are you just as ticklish as before, you also still fall for the same tricks I used when we had tickle fights as kids. Or maybe you fall for them because you know what’s coming, hm?” Chloe asked with a knowing smile and a raised brow. Max could swear she was blushing even harder than before. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” She mumbled while looking to the side of the bed to avoid Chloe’s stare. It really didn’t help that Chloe still remembered all those details, AND all her tickle spots. So unfair.

“Oh really? Because I think you still love being tickled by me, and I don’t think you want to win this fight,” Her girlfriend said smugly, her free hand slowly forming a claw while descending towards Max’ ribs. Said teen started to giggle in anticipation, yet her struggles were only half-hearted. They both knew Chloe was right.

“You suhuhuck! NononoOHOHOHOO!” Max quite literally jumped out of her skin as the hand gently shook her ribs, making her arch her back again. Oh god that tickled!

“Even if you don’t admit it, we both know it’s the truth. Luckily for you, I don’t need you to admit it, I just need you to laugh!” Chloe declared with an evil laugh.

“I CAAHAHAN’T! AAHAHAHA! CHLOEHEHE STOP! STOHOHOHOP!” Max howled with laughter as she finally couldn’t take it anymore. Chloe had let go of her wrists in favor of yanking her shirt up so she could tickle her stomach with both hands, her long nails raking up and down the exposed skin. While Max truly loved Chloe’s tickles, she really couldn’t handle this specific tickle attack right now. The older teen smiled and finally pulled her hands away.

“You okay there, Super Max?” She asked, brushing the hair out of Max’ face. The brunette panted yet held her thumb up, a smile present on her face.

“You still suck,” Max giggled, almost immediately shrinking under Chloe’s playful glare.

“Still sassy huh? You never learn, do you?” She said with mock disappointment as she shook her head, before leaning down to gently nibble at her girlfriend’s collarbones. 

“Nohohoho! No! I’m sohohorry! I take it bahaahhack! I give I gihihihive!” Max was dying with giggles as Chloe placed ticklish kisses and nibbles all over her collarbones. Her blue hair only added to the playful attack as it brushed side to side against her neck, making her tap out instantly.

“That’s what I thought,” Chloe replied smugly as she pulled away, laying down on her side so she could look at Max with a softer expression. “Truce? I won’t tickle you anymore, I just want to hold you for a while,” She smiled, holding her arms open as an invitation.

“You’re a mean person, Chloe Price. Lucky for you I love you, so you’ve been forgiven for all your crimes,” Max said with a giggle as she crawled into Chloe’s hug.

“Oh lucky me, what would I do without your mercy?” Chloe chuckled, idly tracing her fingers over Max’ back. “Can I ask you a question? It’s… it’s kinda serious though,” She added, which made the brunette look into her eyes.

“You can ask me anything,” She assured, placing a hand on Chloe’s arm.

“Well it’s just… I’ve seen you struggle time and time again with all that has happened, and I just keep wondering, what if you hadn’t been put under so much pressure back then? I mean, not that I’m not grateful or anything, it meant the world to me! It’s just that–” One moment Chloe had been asking the question while hugging her girlfriend, next moment said girlfriend was on top of her. 

“Chloe Price, tell me you’re not about to ask me what I think you’re about to ask me.” Max said sternly, looking into her eyes. 

“I–, uhm, maybe?” Chloe said, her cheeks heating up slightly. She wasn’t used to seeing Max like this. “I just can’t help but think that all those people in Arcadia Bay deserved a chance to live, more than I did. Hell, I almost died like four times in one week. So… if you could go back in time, knowing what you know now, would you make a different choice?” She asked. This question had been burning inside of her for a long time now, and she simply had to ask.

“Chloe, I want you to know that even though I suffer from the consequences, I do not regret a single choice I made. You’re my first priority, Chloe, you’re all that matters to me. Yes of course I feel horrible for everyone that got caught in that storm, but… but you’re simply more important to me. I’d sacrifice the world to save you, I don’t care what I’d have to do. We’re meant to be together, you and I. And if I had the opportunity to make a different choice, I wouldn’t. I want to be with you, and only you,” Max said, gently holding the sides of Chloe’s face as she looked into her blue eyes. Chloe remained silent for a while before pressing her forehead against Max’, closing her eyes as a single tear ran down her cheek.

“I’m yours for however long you want me, Max. I’ll be by your side forever. I promise,” She said. The brunette leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek, her thumb gently rubbing the tear away.

“I’ll keep you to that promise, girlfriend,” Max said with a smile.

Another comfortable silence as they cuddled, with the occasional sniffle from either of them. This was their way of healing over all the traumatic events they’d been through. Therapy was way too expensive. Max broke the silence again, this time with a chuckle.

“I didn’t know you were this mushy,” She teased, earning yet another eye-roll from the blue haired teen and a flick to her forehead.

“I’m not mushy, shut up. If anyone’s mushy, it’s you,” She mumbled, yet smiled.

“Well in that case we’re both mushy then. Speaking of mushy,” Max sat up next to Chloe, looking at her with the most mischievous expression Chloe had ever seen. “It’s about time I had a chat with your brain.”

“Wh– wait, Max no!” Chloe cried out, yet didn’t even have time to defend herself as her girlfriend pounced on her. Max was determined to remove all the self-doubt out of Chloe, and get some revenge while she was at it.

Life was still very much strange, but at least it was also good for now. 

[multiwreckedmess]

Oral Assistance

Summary: Desk buddy with your boyfriend Yeosang Pairing: Yeosang x gn!reader (no pronouns/terms of endearment used) WC: 1,250~ (h-how?) CW: Smut, no plot. As always specific TW are under the cut

AN: Omg the oral series rides again! Yeosang brainrot strong. Gaming brainrot strong. Once again, not edited, purely indulgent, meant to be just for fun for me to get over being a perfectionist and just get work out there. Sorry for grammar/spelling mistakes. Check out my masterlist for more of this series or for more polished works!

TW: Slight voyeurism, slight corruption??? Maybe?? SLIGHTLY sub!Yeosang. Prior established relationship. Please do not do this without the expressed consent of the parties who may overhear. IDK as this is not a particular kink for me but in all sexual acts consent is EXTREMELY important. This is a work of fiction, not a guide for how things should be handled.

“Excu-wait-what are you doing?” Yeosang stutters, blush creeping up his neck as he struggles to maintain focus on his game. Your hand rests on his crotch, casually cupping him in his boxers. Giving him your best doe eyes you reply, “nothing.” “One sec guys!” He calls before lifting the arm of his mic. His eyes remain glued to the screen in front of him as he steals glances at you, forefinger clicking away. “I’m in the middle of a game,” he gulps. You can feel him stirring in your palm. “Okay? I don’t mind,” you let the tips of your fingers graze him over his boxers, “that is, if you don’t mind?” His cock twitches expectantly. It’s hard to contain your smile.  “Yes! No. I don’t mind. I mean I’d like it very much. Yes. I want.” Stumbling cutely through his thoughts, his biceps tense and teeth grit as his avatar is pulled into the center of a very violent mauling from the enemy team. As suddenly as they attack its over, his screen goes grey and he flexes his fingers. Leading his head back the noise that comes from him starts as a frustrated groan and morphs into a delicious half moan half growl as his lids flutter shut. “You sound so pretty my Yeosang. Even when you’re upset.” His cheeks flush at the compliment, head angling away from you, embarrassed, his little heart-shaped birthmark highlighted perfectly. Eyes closed with his hair splayed out on his headrest his jaw looks impossibly sharp, cheekbones chiseled. Truely a living statue. With a small smile he gestures his chin at you expectedly, pursing his lips into a shy kiss which you indulge with a soft peck.

Close to his headphones that you can hear he is still in voice chat, muted, but able to hear his teammates bantering and the timer counting down his imminent respawn. With a wicked grin you slide between him and his computer, butt scooted back on his knees and chest leaning close so he can see over you. “YEOSANG! EARTH TO YEOSANG!” You hear someone shout, “Yer up mate!” The tips of your fingers graze over the skin just above the elastic of his waistband, reading the pattern of ridges and veins that lead you down below the belt. Opting to nuzzle into the side of Yeosangs neck. “I love you so much, Yeo.” He barely chokes back a moan as your fingers trace the veins on his member. Throbbing and fattening up in your hand Yeosang bravely lowers his mic to his mouth. “Hey guys I think-I think I have a migraine coming on...” he fumbles awkwardly through his excuse. A chorus of boos coming over the voice chat. “I can finish out this round...but...” he tries to placate them, still frantically clicking on the screen to direct his avatar as you play with him. It really doesn’t take much to get him going, your soft hands making their way up and down, nails just barely grazing his shaft, it’s enough to ruin his actions per minute in a real way. Not to mention the semi strangled position he has to put himself in to reach the mouse and keyboard. Putting a finger to your lips and winking you slide off of him, disappearing to the dark under the desk. In turn he scoots to the very end of his gaming chair and locks it from tipping backwards. The band of his sweatpants easily slips down enough to tug his cock over it. Restricted by the table top hovering ominously above you, you improvise, taking just the tip into your mouth with your head on his thigh, letting your hand work the unattended area of his shaft. Yeosangs eyes roll back, his teams tight formation slipping as he strains to take a peek down at exactly what you are doing to him. “Are you FUCKING KIDDING me dude?! oh shit-Yeosang, shit-sorry-your migraine-” an explosion of expletives over comms as a teammate is picked off by the enemy team. “Shit, shit, fuuu- so sorry guys-” Yeosang tries to disguise his moans as pangs of pain. He hopes that the noise filter works in his favor for once, hiding the occasional quick slips of groans that manage to escape. You hum and swirl your tongue around the head, a move you know is sure to get a vocalization from him. The bang of his fist against the table top is enough to make you giggle as you continue to tease him.  Yeosang is playing his absolute worst and still the teams are tied neck and neck. Frankly at this point he doesn’t really care who wins or loses just that the game ends quickly so that he can rip off his headset and fully enjoy himself. He can barely move his mouse effectively, misclicking several items and ruining his meta. “Whatever,” he thinks, “just blame it on vision spots or something.” Meanwhile his team is requesting a draw from the other players, who repeatedly deny it. “Guys I just-I just don’t know that i can do this-so sorry-gonna-have to take-deserters-” he can barely hold it together between words. Thighs shaking his cock is impossibly heavy with need, leaking salty precum with every lick, swirl and pop of your lips. “Triple-kill.” The glossy robotic voice announces over the headphones. The penalty this time is 1.5 minutes of waiting, unable to fight back against the enemy team. For once instead of hyper focusing and strategizing Yeosang slams his mic up to mute himself and jets away from his desk. You crawl after him, undignified on your hands and knees. “I need to cum please pleasee please-” he pants broken pleas until he’s red in the face. Smiling you finally take him all the way into your mouth, his hips thrusting in short erratic bursts. The sight was everything he’d be unable to fight back to focus on the game. Your eager eyes peering up at him, happily sucking at his swollen cock. Absolutely lewd slurps and gulps coming from your ministrations. The swirling shame and excitement of doing something so risky and taboo mixing in the pit of his stomach. Short explosions of breathy moans follow in time with his hips, unable to push past the tight ring at the back of your mouth. It would be easier if he’d just grab the back of your head to push you just that centimeter more but you knew at least for now he wouldn’t dream of it. Instead you make due, grabbing his clothed ass and forcing your head down the rest of the way, nose flush with his pubic bone. Yeosang sounds just as sweet when he climaxes, normally bassy voice hitting a high strangled gasp. His knuckles whiten as he pushes off the seat of his chair, cock pulsing streams of hot cum down the back of your throat. You eagerly gulp it down, the tense and release of your muscle milking the remininents before releasing him with wet pop.

“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?” “Hope that shit was worth it bro- I swear to god if we rank-” “-damn it SOUNDED worth it though-” “-no wonder he’s sat at base-” “MY GUUUUYYYYY GET IT YEO!” In his haste the arm of the mic had caught the usb charger and not fully docked in the upright, muted position. The pressure of the bent usb cable slowly working the mic back open, Yeosang would have a lot of explaining to do.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

OMG YOU FOUND HIM IN THE VIDEO?!?

I was afraid they didn’t put him in at all! :O

I guess it makes sense though? He’s not part of this event, but he’s still a prominent character in the game, so I was a bit disappointed that he wasn’t chilling with anyone. :/

BUT THEN I REMEMBERED (no offense, Childe my love) he literally doesn’t have any friends 😭 Like all the harbingers lowkey hate him and he lowkey hates them back. He’s only really interacted with Yoimiya, Xinyan, and Zhongli?

Like Yoimiya and Xinyan definitely aren’t that close to him. They kinda just hung around him because he was in an event with them? Then he’s only friends with Zhongli, but it doesn’t make sense for them to hang out because Zhongli was hanging with the other archons.

But then I tried thinking about who he COULDVE hung out with and???

It’s not like with Albedo and Tighnari, they were clearly hanging out because they’re both intelligent and we’re probably talking. Or like with Itto and Cyno, they both share the common interest of playing Genius Invokation TCG.

Like no one who was there would really wanna talk to him? 😭 Even though he seems so easygoing, he has NO friends :(

Sorry, Childe brain rot. I love this funky ginger man. I’m sad that he has no friends 😭 He needs a hug and maybe a kiss… AND MAYBE A PARTNER WHO WANTS TO CUDDLE HIS FLUFFY LEGACY

Okay sorry again, brainrot over XD

okay place your bets everyone, which Pyro lady will Childe befriend next? my bet's on Yanfei because she's cool

oh oh oh but this is making me remember a brainrot i had a couple days ago- reuniting with Childe during Lantern Rite

hear me out, you're from Liyue and met him when he was stationed to do Harbinger duties, and you ended up spending a lot of time together, eventually falling in love. Childe adores you so much and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, but after the Liyue incident and Osial getting summoned he’s shipped off to Inazuma so he doesn’t cause more unrest- the other Harbingers don’t particularly like him, except maybe Pulcinella, and you can’t exactly go with him since the Harbor is your home

so tearfully you say goodbye to Childe and Foul Legacy, because you love them both and they love you, too

Childe sends you letters as often as he can, but it’s difficult since he’s trying to keep you a secret- people knowing you’re the Eleventh Harbinger’s lover could very well put you in danger. it hurts missing him this much, your heart breaking into pieces whenever you’re alone, but you have to stay strong because you know he’ll return eventually, when work permits him to

he promised to return by Lantern Rite. he promised

Childe’s gaze trails across the Harbor, seemingly admiring the lights and ribbons that decorate every door, but in truth he’s only looking for one person- you. it’s been so long since he’s seen you in person- Archons, how long has it been, exactly? too long, and both he and Foul Legacy know that. his heart thumps erratically in his chest, strangely nervous- would you be angry with him? worried about his time oversees? he couldn’t deny that he didn’t love when you fussed over him, but your fretting and fear broke his heart

or perhaps you’ve just forgotten him by this point- he wouldn’t blame you for it

“Childe!”

and there you are, standing a few feet away and staring in awe, like you didn’t truly expect him to show up. the Harbinger simply smiles, a soft, gentle smile reserved only for you, and opens his arms. in a few moments you’ve dashed over into his embrace, squeezing him tightly and fighting back joyful tears as he chuckles, hand already petting your hair

he’s back- he’s back and he’s with you, and you’re reunited

you drag him away somewhere quieter, out of the crowd in case anyone recognizes him but also because Foul Legacy is chirping insistently in the back of his head, wanting nothing more than to take control and wrap his claws around you for the first time in months- the Abyssal monster is even clingier than Childe, and the moment you’re alone there’s a burst of Electro, Foul Legacy towering over you

to anyone else it’d be terrifying, but you simply beam and press your cheek into his gentle palm, reveling in the happy croons and purrs that slip from his mouth. with a quick sweep Foul Legacy holds you in his arms, head pressed against his chest so you can still admire the fireworks. your hands wind into his lilac fluff, idly petting and combing it with your fingers as you stare up at the sky, happy and content

and Childe and Foul Legacy are finally home