#and i did pass <3 yay <3

[zouisexo]

.

[silvermeww]

for your Kalosian Woods AU, I have two questions! (1) what’s the direction you’re gonna take Amourshipping/Ash and Serena’s dynamic in? Their friendship along with the romantic subtext felt like it had a lot of potential in XYZ-proper but never really got utilized. And (2) how’re you gonna tackle Showcases? I’ve been meaning to work on a Showcase restructure but I’d love to hear your ideas :D

Hey there!!!!! For the first question, I 100% acknowledge the force of Serena’s crush on Ash in the XY series— even if I did tweak it so that she would fall after meeting him for the first time, watching him train for the Gym and having seen him fall off Prism Tower inspiring her to see him through tinted lens (and how it evolved from the admiration she had for him when they were kids so long ago). While XY anime itself had the weird notion of making everyone down for Ash (a terrifying scene after coming out of the professional haters of BW and literally every series before it) (ngl though I am a believer of the polycule + Bonnie idea lol, it exists in my heart), I can’t deny that side of Amourshipping even if I’m not a shipper myself or even much of a good writer for romantic relationships imo. In my AU I want to show how that love for him grows and eddies throughout the series: from their first meeting to taking up her own dream of showcases to seeing Ash lose himself in his endless hunt for strength— how she puts him on a pedestal because he was the first Trainer she knew, the strongest one she knew, and back then how she didn’t know better, relying on him instead of taking the risks herself and working with other people for a change. You’re absolutely right in the potential their relationship have in XYZ especially; with Serena coming to the tail end of her first Showcase season, ending up in the same place as before but with a totally changed perspective, and Ash fixating more than ever on being the best of the best, distancing himself from everyone else… and of course, all of that feelings and realisations coming to a head in Snowbelle, the Crisis, and the aftermaths. And also having both of them face each other at the end of it all and realising how much changed. I’m not really sure if I’m wording any of this right or if what I’ve said even makes sense heh, especially since I’m not too far ahead in this AU, but their friendship and that romantic subtext is definitely going to play a part in this series, and even if the plot details changes like the weather I’m going to do my best in keeping it as true to its potential as it should be (because a girl can be in love and also grow as a person, in spite and despite and even with it— you’ve just got to find the right angle).

(Also I’m going to have fun with that crush, so it might meet some light-hearted banter and miscommunications and all of that stuff. I mean, hey, these are kids on a journey lol. There are going to be awkward moments for everyone at some point, but they’ll grow past it as with everything else. Also fun memories. :P)

For the second question, wow, I’ve been giving it so much thought lol. I’m nowhere near the Showcases right now (although it is closer than what canon gave us in my AU) and yet it’s all I can do to plan for how it works. I have spitballed a few ideas with friends but for me (so far) I honestly want more of it to be outdoors. Showcases as a whole has this pesky problem of being a one-to-one copy of Contests but ‘declawed’ by having no battles, and it really gets me because if we’re discarding battles then we have to actually redefine Showcases as a whole— because the battle portion is the ultimate showing of precision and control with your Pokémon and their moves, which is what Contests are all about. Especially with AG and DP, we see examples of atypical Appeal rounds with Harley going for a more terrifying show of power, while Kenny (as :/ as a character as he was) goes for showings of strength— even though they are not ‘beautiful’ they still get to pass, because it really is about how your bond can perfectly translate to moves that can command the audience and grab their attention, naturally highlighting the Pokémon. With Showcases though, to me, they are more about creativity— about how a Performer can work with their Pokémon to get past certain obstacles which are based off a certain characteristic the Kalos Queen should have (the Theme round or whatever it was called lol) and then the Freestyle showing off what they uniquely bring to the table, their own brand, what they want to be remembered by (in which I thought that they could bring props to that originally but eh, that’s what my AU is for!). Sheesh, I went through such a big rant and I still feel fired up heh, but ig this is to say that since Showcases are about creativity, the outdoors location would be a great way to show how they deal with everything. On a sunny day, would they use Grass or Fire Types? Would they call out a Rain Dance and form a rainbow? Of course they wouldn’t actually have an open venue if it’s raining or snowing, but in different terrains can you see the characters stand out, I feel like. Also giving all sorts of Pokémon room like Flying or Ground. I have a bunch more ideas of course, about it being connected to PokéVision (still mad about how that concept got dumped) and having small events where people can get to know the up and coming Performers, getting hints for the Theme section so we don’t get the most unbalanced group of people and have a real competition (that always bothered me ngl), as well as other tweaks to that whole system. Showcases can be good in their own light, it’s just the rep of it being baby ‘only girls’ Contest (still thinking about the girls bit ngl) along with the stupid popularity bit of it (not that the concept is bad in and of itself, just that it should have a place and not be the be all end all of passing to the next stage) (it’s only good for the Freestyle, can I say that?) that makes it flop. Also because it came in so late and left so early. And the rivals kind of sucked because they weren’t given any time to grow. And the way Serena wasn’t challenged enough through them. So basically, I’ve got A Lot of thoughts about it and it’s going to be a headache to go through because it desperately needs a redesign to be viable in any way. But that’s the fun bit about an AU, isn’t it heh. Tell me about your ideas, I’d love to hear about them and thank you so so much for the ask!!! :D <33

[liesonthefloordramatically]

grades are IN so unless any of the 3 students who have missing work submit something in the next 20.5 hours, this wretched semester is finally OVER

[fatherforgivemeforihavesinned]

saw smth i did not agree with an injustice being done n at first i was silent for way too long but it cldnt n wldnt leave ne alone so eventually i spoke up n it was scary n im having post anxiety n i feel like i did smth wrong n the other ppl hate me n will judge me negatively but what they did was not nice n not correct so yh who cares if i cry now nothing gets done without a bit of discomfort ahaha

[autism-corner]

( ｡ •̀ ᴗ •́ ｡)

[bitchkay]

It's either being able to drive or having a job

Somehow you can't have both

[astrxealis]

good eve hope u all r well 😇😙💗✨

[notlongtolove]

time present and time past

spencer tried to explain einstein’s theory of relativity once. and now, with spencer beside you in bed, you think you finally understand what he was on about. because time is relative. and if he doesn’t wake up, this moment will never end, and maybe you can slow down time itself. this work is part of the burnt norton series

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: angst

content: situationship core. they argue. avoidant!-ish.

word count: 3.4k

note: i have a final in 3 days and thought now would be the perfect time to write and post my first fic. yay! anyways this is inspired by an old literature text i studied, einstein's theory of relativity and what not. a line: I’ll come to you before you call—Just to prove that I don’t come to you every time you call.

time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future, and time future contained in time past. if all time is eternally present all time is unredeemable. - t.s. eliot

You've never been one for physics, the numbers, the theories, the science of it all. But that’s never stopped Spencer from launching into explanations like a rocket whenever the chance presents itself. You would nod along, a smile on your face though whatever he's saying might as well be in a foreign language. 

He tried to explain Einstein’s theory of relativity once. Something about clocks, something about a kind of gravitational field. 

“Think of it like this,” he started, and you could almost picture him gesturing animatedly on the other end of the line. “I’m on the jet, and I run down the aisle in five seconds. From my perspective, that’s it—five seconds, straight forward, simple.”

“Hotch would kill you,” you cut in, biting back a grin at the thought.

“Just imagine it,” Spencer laughed.

“Okay, okay.”

“So, if you time me, and I make it down the aisle in five seconds—”

“Highly unlikely, but sure.”

“Angel,” he warned, but there was no real bite in it. He waited for your giggles to subside before pressing on, “but for you, watching me from outside as the jet moves, it’s not so simple. You’d see me running, sure, but you’d also have to factor in the jet’s movement. To you, I’m covering more distance because the jet is moving too, right?”

“If you say so...”

“Just focus,” he laughed. “Now, here’s where it gets interesting. The faster the jet goes, the bigger this effect becomes. If it were moving close to the speed of light, something wild happens—time for me, inside the jet, starts to move at a slower rate compared to your time outside.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, I do. I do.”

“Okay, so explain it.”

You paused, your lips twitching with suppressed laughter. “Uh… You can run faster than a jet?”

Spencer groaned, but he was laughing too. “Time moves slower for those in the jet because space and time are connected,” he said, his voice warming with excitement. "They stretch and bend depending on speed. It’s called time dilation. The faster you move through space, the slower time moves for you relative to someone standing still."

“...I think I get it?”

“Not yet, but you will.”

He promised to explain it more when he got back. But he never did. And so you never really understood it—at least, not until now.

Not until he’s lying in your bed again, your sheets tangled around him like they’ve claimed him as their own.

Einstein says that time is relative. He says that the rate at which time passes depends on an observer's frame of reference. 

The observer in this case—You. 

And if one observer moves at the speed of light, time will slow down for them. 

Spencer’s asleep beside you. His face is soft in the flickers of streetlight creeping through the blinds. They give you just enough visibility to watch the rise and fall of his chest and you wonder if he's dreaming. The sound of his breathing, steady, is the only thing keeping you tethered.

If you squint hard enough, there’s almost something domestic about the scene. You ignore the fact that this is the nth time you’ve done this because ignoring is easier. It’s easier to think about how he smells like his shampoo, and how his shirt is thrown haphazardly over your nightstand. A sight you missed more than you would admit. You think about reaching for it, but your hand stays where it is. You stay where you are—just watching, observing. Because Einstein said the rate at which time passes depends on the observer’s frame of reference. And if you stay still enough, maybe you can slow down time itself. 

You like moments like these. The simplicity of it. You tell your friends the same thing when they ask, their voices thick with judgment, their eyes too knowing. “We don’t do anything” you insist to the room of raised eyebrows. “We’re just hanging out, you know, as friends” you say, as if saying it enough times will make it true.

“Just hanging out?” “Yup.” 

“As friends?” “Yup.”

You know you’ve hit a new low when you have to pull the ‘hanging out’ card, but you take a sort of comfort in that fact. Because at least he’s not like those other guys, right? That’s your silver lining. That it’s not like that. He’s not like that. But in the quiet after, when his breathing is the only sound and you feel walls closing in you, you can't help but wonder which is worse: the thing that he is, or the thing you’re letting yourself become.

You reached out first this time. A small victory in the game you’ve been playing against yourself. There’s some semblance of control in it, you rationalize. If you’re bound to fall, tethered to this fate of always crawling back, at least let it be on your terms.

I’ll come to you before you call—Just to prove that I don’t come to you every time you call.

Come over. Made too much pasta. You texted. It’s an olive branch, a peace offering after a fight that had left you both frayed at the edges. A throw of the same old ball back to his side of the court where the game has dragged on far too long. Proof to him that you didn’t mean what you’d said, that you’re not done yet. That you’re still okay with this.

You can take it. 

The fight had been about work—or at least, that’s how it started. He’d mentioned a new trainee in passing, his voice light, almost too casual, as he spooned rice out of the takeout box. “She’s new,” he said, with a shrug. “Eager, maybe too eager. Emily says she’s a bit of a people pleaser.”

She. You watched him carefully, trying to read between the lines. 

“Oh?” you replied, keeping your voice as even as you could manage. Muscle memory. You’ve been here before. Just because Spencer wasn't one of those guys didn't mean you haven't had your fair share of them. 

You smile as you meet his eyes asking all the right questions. Where’s she from? How’s she doing?

He glanced up at you, surprised by your interest. Light work you thought. “Somewhere out West, I think. She’s doing fine—rookie mistakes, you know. She had a bad day last week, though. Got rattled on a case. Garcia said Hotch was too hard on her.”

“Poor thing,” you murmured, “Hope she’s feeling better.”

“Garcia thought I… thought she was pretty,” he added laughing, the words tumbling out like an afterthought. Like the words don’t hold the weight that he knows it does. 

Ah. There it is.

“Well, did you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, casual.

“She’s… alright,” he said, his tone too high, too quick. You didn’t miss the way he swallowed hard afterward.

“You’re avoiding the question,” you teased lightly, smiling even though your stomach was beginning to twist itself into knots.

“I’m not,” he countered, shoving another bite of food into his mouth. “You asked if she’s pretty, and I said she’s alright.”

“You’re totally avoiding it,” you said, laughing to keep the air light even as the knot pulled tighter. “Spence, you can just say it.”

“Say what?” he asked, eyes darting up to meet yours, then back to his plate.

“Just say it.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Admit that she’s pretty.”

“Okay.” He exhaled sharply, like the word had been dragged out of him. “I think she’s pretty.”

Oh.

There was something in the way he said that made your chest constrict. 

I think she’s pretty.

He thinks she’s pretty. Not like it was some objective fact, not something calculated or reasoned. Not that she was statistically pretty, backed up by some symmetry or math behind it. He just… thought so—No, he thinks so. Thinks. Present tense. Meaning as he’s sitting here, across from you, eating the takeout you suspected he’d purposefully ordered too much of, he thinks she’s pretty.

You stared down at your plate, your appetite long gone. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. You could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the distant murmur of voices from the apartment next door.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally, his voice softer now, hesitant.

“I’m fine,” you replied too quickly, a smile pasted on your face as you looked up. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. Pass the soy sauce?” He passed it without another word, but you could feel his eyes lingering on you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you finally said, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I’m not,” Spencer replied defensively, though his eyes stayed trained on you. “You’re just… quiet. It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve run out of things to say.”

“Is this because I said she’s pretty? Because I didn’t want—”

“Spencer stop,” you interrupted, setting your fork down with a deliberate clink against your plate.

“I wasn’t going to say it. You asked me to say it.” he countered. “And the term pretty is subjective anyway, I think you’re pretty too.” You stayed silent, not meeting his eyes. “Don’t be like that. You know I care about you.”

“It sure doesn’t feel like it.”

You knew you were being petty. Acting like a child who didn’t get their way, grasping at anything to make the hurt feel justified. But you couldn’t help it.

“You just—you talk about work, about—god, about pretty girls and I—”, You stopped, swallowing hard, trying to tamp down the words you weren’t ready to say. “I feel like I’m just… here. Someone you call when you’re bored or when you’ve ordered too much food or when—”

“That’s not true,” he argued, his tone sharp now, “You’re twisting it—”

“Am I?” you snapped, your eyes finally meeting his. They were wide, startled, but it didn’t stop you. “Because I’m starting to think this is exactly what it is.”

“Well, what do you think this is?” Spencer’s jaw tightened as his hands gripped the edge of the table.

“I don’t know,” you said bitterly. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“We’ve talked about this,” Spencer said, each word cutting deeper than the last. “You said you wanted to be friends. Friends do this. Friends have dinner. Friends don’t force someone to admit someone else is pretty and then make it all—I don't know, all weird after.”

You winced, his phrasing like a mirror reflecting every misstep, every conversation where you’d backed yourself into this corner. He’s not wrong—you had said you wanted to be friends. But he didn’t know the weight behind that concession.

You’d thought back to those late-night conversations. The ones where he’d laid out his reasons like a clinical diagnosis: I don’t have the time. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m not ready. So, you’d waited, convincing yourself that 'not now' meant 'not yet'. But eventually, you’d called it yourself, told him you should just be friends. A sad attempt at controlling a situation you were only ever destined to be hurt by. Because your own destruction should only ever be yours to wield—and you have to claim it before it can claim you.

He’d agreed it was better this way and you’d nodded along. Not because you believed it, but because it was a way to keep him in your life. A lifeline you clung to no matter how much it cut into your hands. But labels don’t erase what’s already happened. They don’t undo the stolen glances, the kisses in the quiet moments, the nights where you felt like the only two people in the world. They just build a fragile scaffold over it all, a flimsy way of holding up what’s already crumbling. Dating. On a break. Dating again. Friends. They pile on top of one another like a pathetic plaster over the hurt of what you wished things could be. 

“Right,” you said finally, the word brittle and sharp as it escapes your lips. Your voice was hollow as your eyes met his, daring him to flinch. “So I guess that means I can’t expect anything from you, right? No decency, no consideration, no… nothing. Because we’re not in a relationship. We’ve never been in a relationship. Right?”

“Don’t,” Spencer said quietly, almost pleading now. “That’s not fair. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”

“You’ve made it perfectly clear what this is,” you said, standing from the table, your hands trembling as you gathered your things. 

“Wait,” he said, standing too, “You don’t have to—”

“And by the way, Spence,” you cut him off, reaching into your bag and slamming the extra key he’d given you months ago onto the table. It clattered louder than you expected, echoing in the tense silence between you. “You can have this back. Because last I checked, friends don’t have keys to each other’s apartments.” You were acutely aware of the venom dripping in your voice but you pressed on, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And thanks for the flowers, but I don’t think friends go out of their way to buy a bouquet to make up for every friendly dinner they miss.” You didn’t wait for a response. You didn’t look at his face, didn’t want to see whatever expression he was wearing. 

But the satisfaction of that slam felt distant now. You think back fondly of the girl who had made her point so clear, so definitive. A line drawn in the sand. But winds blow and sand moves. That girl seems like a lifetime away from the girl you are now—the one lying here, beside him, again.

Spencer stirs beside you, a quiet sigh escaping his lips, and your breath hitches. You don’t want him to wake up. Because if—when he does, you know he’ll leave. But until then, in this moment of temporary serenity, you can pretend it doesn’t matter. You can pretend it’s okay. You can pretend you’re okay. 

After all, Einstein said that time is relative. If he doesn’t wake up, the moment will never end, and maybe—just maybe—you can slow down time itself. You stare at the ceiling, letting the minutes tick past, each one stretching longer than the last.

Your thoughts drift back to what Spencer had said. Time moves slower for those in the jet.

Well, if your apartment is the sky, then this bed is the jet. In the quiet of this moment, his warmth beside you, the faint smell of him lingering on the pillow—this is where time bends. The rate at which time passes depends on the observer’s frame of reference. Maybe you can trick the universe, make these seconds stretch into hours. Maybe, if you stay still enough, think hard enough, the world outside won’t come knocking. You can freeze this bubble of peace.

But the illusion is tenuous, and reality looms like turbulence on the horizon. Time doesn’t truly stop, you know that, we’re all forced to move on along with it. They say time waits for no man—least of all a broken-hearted girl. The clock keeps ticking, indifferent to your longing. Sooner or later, he’ll wake, and the bubble will burst.

You wonder how long you can keep this up. You’d just been talking earlier tonight, telling each other what had happened in the days you hadn’t spoken since the argument. The words had come easier than you expected, though none of them seemed to solve anything. Spencer had fallen asleep mid-sentence, right as you were recounting something trivial about your day. His exhaustion was written all over his face—the heavy pull of his eyelids, the way his head tilted slightly toward you before finally giving in. You’d paused, watching him, and the words you were about to say dissolved into silence. You hadn’t wanted to wake him.

The old you would’ve been angry, the frustration bubbling up into sharp words and accusations. The fight was always the same, well-rehearsed and raw: You always do this. I’m sorry. When are you not? I missed you. Then why won’t you stay? You know I can’t. You can. I can’t. It was less of a conversation and more of a script. It had long since stopped being about what either of you said; it was about how you said it and where it always led. It would’ve ended in a fight, Spencer’s guilt countered by your hurt, spiralling into a familiar standoff with no real resolution. 

But that was the old you. She’d had more fight in her, more fire to demand the things she felt she deserved. That fire has dimmed now, not extinguished, but banked low and steady, like you’ve learned to ration it. It’s not that the frustration has disappeared—it lingers, an ache beneath the surface—but you’ve stopped letting it boil over. Deep down, you know the real reason you didn’t start a fight tonight. It’s not just that you’re tired of fighting, though you are. It’s that you don’t know how much fight he still has in him. You don’t know if one more argument, one more crack in this fragile thing between you, will be the thing that makes him walk away for good.

And you’re not ready to find out.

So you let it slide. Not because you want to, but because you can. You’ve told yourself you’re strong enough to carry it—to make up the weight of his distance, his exhaustion, his inability to give you what you need. You let him sleep, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, and you tell yourself it’s enough. 

But Spencer shifts again, and this time his eyes flutter open. You freeze, your body tense, as if staying perfectly still might undo his wakefulness. 

“Hey,” he murmurs groggily, his voice thick with sleep. His arm snakes over your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief, fleeting second, you allow yourself to relish the warmth of his touch, the illusion of intimacy.

Then his hand moves. He’s reaching—not for you, but for his watch on the bedside table.

He checks the time, squinting in the dim light filtering through the blinds. And you know. You know what’s coming next. 

“I should go.” he says softly, his arm already retreating from where it had rested over your waist. He pushes himself up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

You sit up slightly, the sheets pooling around you, and force a small smile. “Okay” you murmur, the words feeling hollow even as they leave your lips.

Spencer’s already out of bed, reaching for his shirt and bag. The routine feels mechanical, practiced—a series of motions he’s repeated so many times it barely registers as something that could hurt you. He pulls the shirt over his head, adjusts the strap on his bag, and leans down to kiss your forehead. Friends, as if. You think.

It’s a fleeting gesture, a touch that’s supposed to mean something but feels more like a formality now. More perfunctory than tender.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he says as he straightens, glancing at his watch like he’s late for something more important. “You should’ve woken me up.”

You shake your head silently, not trusting that your thoughts won’t betray you. Don’t wake up. Don’t leave me. Don’t go. Instead you settle for, “You were tired. You should get some rest.” The weight in your chest feels unbearable but you press your lips into a tight, strained smile anyways. A silent permission for him to leave.

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Drive safe,” you say quietly as you walk him to the door.

“I’ll text you?” he offers, already halfway out.

“Okay,” you reply, the word barely audible.

And then he’s gone.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoes in the quiet of your apartment, final and unrelenting. You stand there for a moment, staring at the door as if willing it to open again, as if hoping he might turn around and come back. You know he won’t. 

You turn and lean against the wall, the cool surface grounding you, a poor substitute for the warmth that was just beside you. The apartment feels colder, emptier now, the silence deafening. The clock on the wall ticks forward, oblivious to your grief, dragging you further away from the moment he was just here. You feel stuck in place, a reluctant passenger watching the world rush forward while you’re left behind, stranded.

You think back to what Einstein had said and you think he’s got it all wrong. How if one observer moves at the speed of light, time will slow down for them. Because no matter how tightly you try to hold on, the jet doesn’t slow down. It won’t wait for you. The jet will keep moving forward, unrelenting, and him along with it. With or without you.

And as you stand alone in the stillness he’s left behind, you realize it’s always been without you.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

[xo100]

Baking cookies pt. 3- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando and Y/N confess their feelings, agreeing to take things slow, while Nina continues to brighten their lives.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1237

masterlist / community / request / previous ౨ৎ next

౨ৎ

The next morning felt different. Not in a drastic, world-shifting way, but in the small, quiet way things change when you finally admit how you feel about someone who’s been in your life for so long. The sun filtered through the curtains in Lando’s living room, casting soft shadows on the walls, and Y/N sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. She wasn’t thinking about the articles in front of her, though. Her mind was on Lando—and the kiss they shared the night before.

She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle way his hand had cradled hers. The memory made her heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Y/N’s head snapped up at the sound of Lando’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hair still messy from sleep. He looked comfortable in a worn T-shirt and sweats, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Morning,” she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly at the memory of last night.

Lando pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to her, dropping into the chair across the table. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward with that same playful glint in his eyes that Y/N had seen countless times—but now, it felt different. There was something deeper behind it.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Good,” Y/N answered, smiling. “You?”

“Best I’ve slept in a while,” Lando replied, his gaze locked on hers.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of their newfound connection hanging in the air. It was comfortable, but there was a spark between them, something quietly electric that hadn’t been there before.

But before they could say anything more, the familiar sound of little feet running down the stairs interrupted them.

“Daddy! Auntie Y/N!” Nina’s voice called out as she bounced into the kitchen, her curly hair wild and her face full of excitement. “I’m hungry!”

Y/N and Lando exchanged a quick glance before they both burst into laughter. The moment was broken, but in the best way—Nina always had that effect.

“What’s on the menu today, munchkin?” Lando asked, ruffling Nina’s hair as she climbed onto Y/N’s lap.

“Pancakes!” Nina declared with a big grin.

Y/N smiled, hugging Nina tightly. “Pancakes, huh? I think we can make that happen.”

“Yay!” Nina clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on Y/N’s lap.

Lando got up from his chair, heading toward the fridge. “Alright, team pancake, let’s get to work.”

As Lando started gathering ingredients, Y/N helped Nina down from her lap, and together, they got to work in the kitchen. It was something they had done countless times before, but this time felt different. Everything did.

The three of them moved around the kitchen with ease, like a well-practiced routine. Nina poured the flour, Y/N mixed the batter, and Lando flipped the pancakes, tossing in an extra bit of flair for Nina, who giggled with every flip.

At one point, Lando leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and teasing. “You know, I think you’re rubbing off on me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well,” Lando said, holding up a pancake with a lopsided heart shape in the middle, “I’m starting to get pretty good at these.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Sure you are.”

They shared another quiet moment of laughter, but this time, there was an undeniable tenderness in it. Lando’s hand brushed against Y/N’s as he passed her a plate, and she felt that same warmth flood her chest. The feeling that this was right, that they were right.

-

Once breakfast was done, the three of them sat at the table together, with Nina happily munching on her pancakes while talking animatedly about her day ahead. Lando and Y/N exchanged glances across the table, both of them silently reveling in the ease of this moment. It was just the three of them, but it felt like more.

After breakfast, Lando cleared the table while Y/N helped Nina get ready for the day. As they moved through their morning routine, the unspoken understanding between Lando and Y/N grew. They didn’t need to say anything just yet—there was comfort in the way they worked together, the natural way they fit into each other’s lives.

Once Nina was dressed and ready to play in the garden, Y/N found herself back in the living room, straightening up a few toys Nina had left scattered around. Lando appeared beside her, leaning against the couch as he watched her for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

“Y/N…” His voice was softer now, more serious.

She turned to face him, her heart beating a little faster. “Yeah?”

Lando stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take hers. “I’ve been thinking about us. About what this means.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes searching his. “Me too.”

“I know we haven’t really talked about it yet, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Lando said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Because this? This feels like more than just a moment.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling at his words. “It is more. It’s everything.”

Lando’s smile was soft but filled with so much emotion that it made Y/N’s chest ache. “I don’t want to rush anything, but… I want this. I want us.”

Y/N took a step closer, her free hand reaching up to rest against his chest. “I want that too, Lando. I want us to figure this out together.”

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. But there wasn’t any. Y/N was sure of this, sure of them.

“You know, Nina adores you,” Lando said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “She’s always asking when you’ll come over. And seeing the two of you together… It makes me realize how lucky I am.”

Y/N’s heart melted at his words. She had always loved Nina as if she were her own, and hearing Lando say those things only deepened her feelings for him. “I adore her too, Lando. And I… I adore you.”

His eyes softened, and before Y/N could say anything more, Lando leaned in and kissed her. It was soft and sweet, but this time there was more behind it. The promise of something new, something real.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. “We’ll take it slow,” she whispered. “For Nina. For us.”

Lando nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, slow sounds perfect.”

Just as they were about to kiss again, a loud crash echoed from the garden, followed by Nina’s triumphant shout. “I did it!”

Y/N and Lando both burst into laughter, stepping apart as they looked out the window to see Nina standing proudly next to a stack of garden toys she had knocked over.

“We’d better go check on our little troublemaker,” Lando said with a grin, taking Y/N’s hand as they headed outside together.

As they walked into the garden, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful. A new chapter for all three of them.

And it was exactly where she wanted to be.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also I’ve started a community feel free to join! Currently working on part 4! If you want to be tagged leave it in the comments!

Also currently heartbroken by Daniel leaving f1💔

*:･ﾟtags; @barcelonaloverf1life @fanficweasley @obxstiles @missnxthingg @trisharee @myescapefromthislife

[hanfourz]

baby, boo, my sweetie, darling ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

summary: what pet names they'd call you!

pairing: ot5 boynextdoor x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: <100 for each

warnings: none

note: first hc post yay!! prepare for more hcs to come ur way (bc i dont have time to work on anything longer rn - 🪼)

⟡ ݁₊ . sungho : darling, angel

sungho is just so sickeningly sweet, you are his weakness. he treats you with so much love and care so it’s only right for him to use the most loving petnames. you are his everything and more <3

”hey angel, i’m going to the store do you want anything?”

“wow, darling, you are beautiful.”

⟡ ݁₊ . riwoo : sweetie/sweetheart, my love

i think at first he’s a little shy about using terms of endearment around other people. but once he sees how much you like it (bc you get shy every time he does use them) he does it more often. just wants to see you happy forever.

“hi sweetie, i brought you a treat!”

“of course, my love. you don't have to ask to share my food, y’know?”

⟡ ݁₊ . jaehyun : baby/babe, honey, my love

he's overflowing with love all the time and it's only amplified when he's with you. would smother you in affection if he could. he uses almost all of them but he has favorites. truly thinks you're the most beautiful, amazing, wonderful, lovely person to ever walk this planet and needs you to know it.

“babyyyy, i miss you!! can we cuddle, please?”

“hi honey, do you wanna go get food with me? i’ll buy!!”

⟡ ݁₊ . taesan : babe, love

another one who's a little shy about it at first. prefers to love you quietly through his actions rather than his words. but he loves your reactions when he calls you something sweet. and you use them with him all the time (it nevers fails to make him blush) so of course he starts to reciprocate.

“hey love, can you pass me that? i wanna show you something i’m working on.”

“babe, did you listen to the song i sent you yet? i think you’ll like it.”

⟡ ݁₊ . leehan : princess/prince, angel

he loves you but he loves seeing you blush even more. he already looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky so it's no surprise to anyone that he rarely ever uses your real name anymore. you are his angel and thats final. treats you as such, as well.

“you look stunning, princess/prince, why are you worried?”

“you want a hug? well of course, my angel.”

[keyotos]

“please stay” after a nightmare from aventurine pls!!! i 🫶 how u write him hehe <3

the way that i am

summary ↯

aventurine's nightmare has him spiraling left and right. and also into you.

apart of the niche microtropes event!

word count ⎯ 3.5k

tana's thoughts ⎯ i am so sorry i got to this so late! i started working at a hospital this summer (working, not volunteering—BIG SHIFT YAY) so i've been a bit occupied!

aventurine doesn't even bother to look at the clock when he jolts up. his back is utterly slick with sweat—a feeling he detests. the room feels as though it's spinning slowly, then quickly, and slowly again. the cavity where his heart lies is pounding.

his fingers grip into the hotel sheets as a way to tether himself back to reality. but the attempt proves to be futile. his breaths have gotten even shallower before; aventurine begins to think that he may pass out from hyperventilation.

this is not the first time something like this has happened. aventurine knows what the protocol usually is. he'll be awake for a few more hours, and then eventually fall asleep for an hour before he has to wake up again.

however, this time it's different. swarmed by not only his childhood, but also red splotches covering his hands, rough metal, and thousands of eyes glowering down at him. everything overtook him—multiple topics all at one time, crashing down into his mind.

the hotel room was pitch black and frigid. the thin covers that the "5-stars" establishment provided did not render any heat whatsoever. not that it mattered to aventurine at the moment. his body felt like it was running a fever: how a nightmare could make him sweat, ache, and scalding was beyond him.

his sweat began seeping through his shirt, causing the material to stick to his skin. he needs it off.

aventurine didn't bother to turn on any lights (or use his phone light, even)—he doesn't think he could bare look at himself if he did. when dealing with nightmares, most people usually shake it off, distract themselves, and fall back asleep. but for aventurine, the waves of shame that wash over him are strong. dismay, embarrassment, and regret are some of the few emotions that crash into him left and right.

the mirror is hard to stare at after a nightmare. aventurine recalls one night—when he was a bit younger—where he turned on the bathroom light to wash his face. upon seeing himself in the fluorescent glint; a lethargic, sullen, and heavy reflection looked back at him. sunken eyes and cheeks that sink down to the floor—both paired with a sickeningly pale face.

he retched in the toilet shortly after.

aventurine put on some slippers as he stumbled on the way to the closet. luckily for him, it was right across from the bed, giving him easy access to change. however, the trip to the closet was still full of its' challenges: aventurine ran into the bed-frame multiple times, and almost tripped on his own feet.

yet, he managed to be successful as he hastily unbuttoned his previous shirt to slide on a new one. he would call it luck that he didn't run into the corner of the bed-frame.

aventurine didn't bother to finish buttoning up his shirt. his mind reeled to the next thing his body needed: a cold glass of water.

though the new shirt alleviated some of his discomfort, he was still running hot. sweat still beaded down his head, and he ran a hand through his damp, blond hair to straighten up.

with a bit more shuffling, his hands guided him to the door to leave his room. aventurine considered sleeping on the couch for the rest of the trip—not wanting to be back in that room for the next week—however he was worried you'd begin to question his antics.

you're smart. you catch on instantaneously and you're too quick-witted for your own good. sometimes, your big mouth gets you in trouble, but that's why aventurine is your partner: he's damage control. but your biggest flaw would have to be your nosiness. and aventurine—though he harbors no negative feelings towards you (except the minor annoyance)—is not ready to detail the specifics of why he planned to sleep on the uncomfortable couch for the remainder of the trip.

aventurine opens the door and tries his best to not slam it, just so he doesn't wake you. he rubs his eyes and yawns as he traverses down the corridor. his hands are scattered throughout the walls, and aventurine tries his best to not hit any corners as he walks.

there's a slight murmuring noise as he gets closer to the kitchen, and he pauses. there's a bright light being emitted, but it's not from the overhead light. aventurine slows down his breathing (which—is quite hard in his predicament) to better hear the sound.

aventurine's feet creep closer and closer, until he hears the noise suddenly stop. now would be a good time to go back to your room, he internally voices. but aventurine doesn't move. he's planted on the ground, anxiously anticipating what would come next. he doesn't know if it's due to shock from his nightmare, or because he was too exhausted to move any more.

"hey. what are you doing up?" you turn the corner, shining the light from your phone to see.

aventurine moves his hand up to cover his face from the light, "aeons, that thing is bright." you lower the brightness while aventurine puts his hand down. he continues, "you're going to go blind looking at that thing in the dark like this."

this is how it always goes. pretend nothing ever happened. no nightmares, no terrors, no deep-seated fears. aventurine was just tired, which wasn't exactly a lie.

he just hopes that you won't be able to see through it like everyone else does.

"i'm pretty sure that's a myth," you put your phone in the pocket of your shorts. the dark setting makes things a lot more intimate, aventurine thinks. he gulps—thankful for the darkness concealing it—and tries not to dwell on the topic for much longer.

"pretty sure that it's science," aventurine responds, leaning on the wall.

you mock him, repeating his words in a distorted voice that makes aventurine question what he is still doing here. yet, he doesn't leave. not even when you say, "since when do you know anything about science? aren't you a glorified tax collector? shouldn't you be worried about... tax evasion?"

the blond rolls his eyes, even when you couldn't see it. "it's basic knowledge, first of all. and i worry. how are you supposed to complete our mission if you can't see?" he lets out a yawn afterwards.

"yeah, yeah," you say, voice drawing out, "whatever. i know you just secretly care for me!" you tease, attempting to poke him in the shoulder, yet missing due to the lack of light.

funny, aventurine thinks. real funny.

"you also never answered my question by the way. what are you doing up?" you ask.

internally, aventurine sighs. he should've known that you would've circled back to that. he thought that exhaustion would cloud your judgement too (considering that it was 2:30 in the morning), but alas, it has not.

sometimes, he thinks that nothing could cloud your judgement, even if it was the strongest effort in the world. aventurine has always found it admirable, though he would never admit it.

"no reason. i'm just not feeling tired," he lies, standing straight up. it makes no difference really, because it wasn't like you could see him anyway.

"you lying liar who lies!" you laugh, "you just yawned like... thirty seconds ago."

aventurine brushes you off, "that doesn't mean anything."

"if you yawn that literally means you're tired," you exaggerate, "pretty sure that's science."

"do you really have to mock me at two in the morning?"

"um, is there ever a time to not mock you?"

aventurine groans. this time, not out of exhaustion. "how are you not tired yet?"

"i haven't gone to bed yet," you shrug, "like, at all." in the darkness, aventurine can see you fiddle with the string of your pajama shorts. "i've always been that way—abnormal. but i'm usually not tired in the morning, so i guess i'm fine."

aventurine hums in response. you talk quite often, but it's not usually about yourself. he leans back on the wall again, letting his head rest as you continue to tell him anecdotes about your chaotic sleeping schedule. this is your normal.

it's certainly not his. aventurine made sure to get eight hours (or more) of sleep each night. he had a routine—a perfectly constructed one, in fact—that would ensure he'd be rejuvenated in the morning. and it was good. it helped him forget; the focus on the ritual would subside any memories of his past that would haunt him.

like tonight.

although, it seems as though his nightmares are an abnormality as well, but he doesn't accept it like you do.

"i'm not gonna pry if you don't wanna tell me," he hears footsteps pattering closer to him. he still can't see you, but he knows you're close. his breath slightly hitches, just in case.

you continue, "but, i can invite you to what i was doing. you know, if you can't sleep either."

before aventurine could reject the idea, you open up your phone, the bright light blinding the both of you. you squeak a quick apology and turn the brightness down, just to where the both of you could see each other.

from his point of view, aventurine nearly has you pinned against him. his body is leaning against the wall, while his arm is propped up on it. you're below his arm, leaning against the wall as well; except, your head is underneath his arm.

you don't seem to notice the position the two of you are in, seeing as you are glued to your phone. in other circumstances, aventurine would've made a snarky comment about it, but the ability to speak was stolen away from him. there you are, right in front of him, obliviously scrolling through your social media. you haven't looked up, not even a glance.

part of him thinks that he should be grateful. tonight has been a rough night, and he's sure that he doesn't look particularly pleasant right now. his hair is tousled, blond strands mangled due to the earlier rustling. his eyes must be drooping, since he's not used to waking up during these hours.

but you don't notice whatsoever. you're here, aimlessly scrolling on your phone—searching up whatever (probably some kind of niche reference)—and not even looking up. and that's when the other part of aventurine comes in. why aren't you peering up at him? do you not feel his eyes boring into your body? can you not feel the rigidity of his stare?

aventurine would do anything to see you glance up: to see your breath hitch when noticing the position the two of you are in, or to finally see you be rendered speechless. he wants to see you hide away from his gaze, looking at anything except for him. then, he might able to come up with a remark as good as yours. only then.

he's torn between two halves of himself. you're his greatest relief tonight (shocking, as aventurine would usually refer to you as his greatest nuisance), but also his greatest fear. when he talks to you, aventurine feels like he's feverous: his heart rate increases when thinking of a retort to your wits, and he shivers with chills whenever you make wondrous and logical reasonings. but he's terrified of what would happen if you saw him—truly saw him. would you be able to come up with a witty response, or would you look at him with pity? would you pull back your punches, replacing your ardent jabs for dull responses?

aventurine didn't want to lose that.

"found it!" your excited voice knocks him out of his head. you click on a video of a wooden bowl filled with water and some blocks. or cubes. or spheres?

"um," aventurine peers down, "what is that?"

"wood soup!" you enthuse, scrolling through your social media to find more.

aventurine decides that he is lost. "wood... soup..."

"i don't see why you're so baffled by this," you shake your head, "it's not edible if that's what you're wondering. it's water and wood, ergo the name is: wood soup."

you pull the blond down a rabbit hole of wood soup videos, and aventurine becomes glued to your device with you. the two of you were definitely standing there for more than five minutes. you glance at him a couple times—just out of the corner of your eye—and aventurine has to suppress the urge to swallow every time.

"oh, oh," you pull up another video, "this one is my favorite!"

you've said that about ten times now. you definitely have not been keeping track, but aventurine has. sometimes, his gaze switches from your phone to you. you're distracted enough that you didn't notice him staring. aventurine silently thanked the aeons for "wood soup" being a distraction.

"this one is pretty good," aventurine murmured down to your neck. he occasionally felt his eyes sag, but blinked a few times to get rid of the fatigue. he rubbed his hand against his eyes to wake himself up.

"works like a charm, doesn't it?" you voice is soft when you give aventurine a slight smile. "these videos always put me to sleep."

you look up at him—actually making eye contact—and place your head on the spot on the wall directly under his arm. your arms are crossed over your chest, and you're biting down on your lip in an effort to not smirk or become smug.

aventurine knows this expression. it's your, "i was right from the whole time" expression.

and for a second, aventurine is scared. he should've walked back to his room earlier, instead of getting swooped up in your presence. judging by the expression you're donning at the moment, aventurine can tell you have him figured out. you were right about his lying earlier, and now you were gonna question him. and what was he going to say? what excuse was he going to come up with now?

would he tell the truth and reveal his most vulnerable bits of himself? what would you even think of that? what would you even say to that? aventurine admits, he's always wanted you to be rendered speechless, but not like this.

and what would you two be afterwards? not just coworkers, as aventurine wanted it to be originally. but you two are far away from becoming close friends. you are the person he needs by his side right now; you are one of the most important assets in the game he is playing. he can't lose you now.

and there's one more reason for aventurine's fears. though he will never admit it: he enjoys spending time with you. from a mission standpoint, you are one of his perfect partners. you balance him with your wit and observation, while he balances you with calculation and persuasiveness. but it's not just that. you're funny (annoyingly so) and you distract him. you make it easy to forget everything else when you're standing in front of him. sometimes, his heart races and all he can think about is you, you, you; every beat of his heart is a syllable of your name.

you make him feel normal. aventurine always knew he was abnormal, whether it was due to his eyes or status, he always knew. and then you waltz in, making sure that you are the weirdest person in the room. it makes him feel okay. safe, even.

safe. aventurine's heart is pounding out of his chest, waiting for you to say something. you make him feel safe, he realizes.

he can't lose you now. not like this.

you tilt your head, glancing up at his face. he watches as your eyes move from the furrow of his eyebrows, to his drooping eyelids, to his pursed lips, and to his slightly clenched jaw. you bite the inside of your lip—a sign that you want to say something, aventurine notes—and let a light sigh slip.

"rest up," you nod, placing your hand on his shoulder. your thumb brushes the fabric of his shirt, barely covering his shoulder. you're nearly touching skin. "you look like you need it," you quietly chuckle. if aventurine heard correctly, you muttered a soft, "yeesh," as well.

aventurine let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. you didn't say a thing. and that may be for the better.

you didn't pry, like you normally would. there were no additional questions. no follow-ups, no interrogations. your fingers brushed his shoulder and he had to make sure he wasn't going delirious from lack of sleep.

nothing was ruined. everything is okay. he is safe. it is a mantra he repeats in his head over and over. he had to make sure it was real. aventurine thought about pinching himself, but feeling your hand on his shoulder was enough evidence for him. your hand hasn't moved. neither has he.

aventurine's eyes are wide when he looks at you. you give him another small smile, "goodnight, okay? i don't wanna see you when i'm awake at 3 in the morning," you joke. "i have a feeling you get real cranky if you don't get your 12 hours of sleep."

first of all, it's 8. aventurine fought off the urge to correct you. this moment was too good to be true.

he couldn't go back to sleep after this. not when he'd be thinking about you and your hand all night. not when he knows that he'd be putting his own hand on his shoulder, recreating how you brushed it with your delicate ones. most of all, he felt like he couldn't fall asleep without you there with him. a chilling realization, he notes.

this is definitely one of the most craziest things he was about to do. insane, actually. when you're about to pull your hand off of aventurine's shoulder, he places his hand on top of yours, trapping it there.

"please, stay," he breathes. it's a shaky plead, and you can feel his hand tighten on top of yours.

"um," he looks around the hallway the two of you were in, "in my room."

you blink, "what?"

aventurine begins to chastise himself. this was a dumb idea. you shouldn't do this. run. but he continues, "could you stay with me in my room tonight?"

is this selfish? possibly. aventurine knows that you and him aren't close enough to share a bed. you guys haven't even shared a drink yet. but he needed you tonight. you help him feel safe. secure. okay. normal.

just for one night, could he indulge? he trusts you.

you blink a few more times. your chest has an unsteady rhythm of rise and fall. has he done it? are you speechless?

"uh. um," you pause. aventurine can tell that you're debating between yes and no. he waits, staring back at you. you bite back down on your lip, turning away.

"you know what. sure."

you and aventurine stumble over to his room in the dark. your footsteps are the only audible noise in the hotel room, and it invites an air of close intimacy between the two of you. he falls into bed first, with you awkwardly clambering in after him.

aventurine lies down like a stick at first. you are not much difference. your back is facing him, and you realize that the two of you cannot fall asleep like this.

you sigh and turn around, facing the blond next to you. it's awkward, for sure. anyone would probably be able to tell that neither of you has gotten into bed with another party before. but you've seen your fair share of movies, so you come up with an idea.

"turn around," you mumble. aventurine listens with no retort on his tongue. you gulp.

"let me know if you don't like this, okay?" you inch closer and closer to the man beside you, until your chest touches his back. you feel him tense, and you inch away a little. you bring your arms out in front of you and wrap them around aventurine.

aventurine's body is taut at first. he's stiff as a board, and you let go a bit to get him to relax. his hand slowly comes up and brushes over where your hand is. he grasps onto it—not as tightly as before—but a light touch, as if he was curious if you were still here or not.

"is this okay?" you whisper. your body is so close to his. you feel insane.

"yes," he responds. he isn't sure if he's capable of saying any more words. aventurine is already worrying that you can hear the way his heart his clamoring. he doesn't want to worry about nonsense spewing from his mouth as well.

your chest is pressed directly against is back. his instincts tell him to squirm away, but is body is telling him to stay right where he is.

later, when he feels your chest synchronize with his, he sighs. your head digs into his shoulder, and he's nearly about to fall asleep. his past nightmare has been forgotten. a topic for another time, he thinks.

you speak up again, your voice no louder than a whisper, "did you know that cuddling leads to an easier time falling asleep?"

aventurine lets out a light chuckle, "really? and how did you know that?"

"oh, i don't know. science?"

[lily-jaxk]

MC Twin AU - SYLUS'S Darling

"Pretty Dragon, do you have a name?"

". . . Does it matter?"

"Well, since I'm officially a damsel in distress, I should at least know what my cager's name is no? It's only fair!"

The young woman gives the dragon a dopey smile, raising her legs up so she could place her chin on it as she watched him. The dragon's tail idly swayed behind him, until a somewhat familiar word left his lips. "Stayrus."

"Stayrus...." She murmured, allowing the familiar words to fill her mind for the first time in years. She hadn't heard that name since █████. "Stayrus....I like it." A soft sigh leaves her lips and she stretches her legs out. "It's a bit hard to pronounce though. Can I call you a nickname?"

The dragon rises, and his unseen wings stir up gusts around him. "Call me whatever you want. But don't expect me to respond."

A grin grew on her lips. "In that case, Sylus, can I play with the silver tiara I spotted back there?"

"If that's what you wish."

The next time you woke up, you found yourself on a bed.

A very, very, comfortable bed.

You blink up at the ceiling, confusion clouding your mind. What happened? You remember being kidnapped, you remember finding out that it was Luke and Kieran who had kidnapped you, you met Sylus.

. . . . Wait.

You met Sylus.

Meaning. . . . . . .you were currently at Onychinus's base.

You sit up in a panic, wide eyes glancing around the room. Black walls, dark bedsheets, a soft light shining down on you, was that a gun on your bedside???

Yep. This was definitely Sylus's room.

Holy shit, how did this happen?

You hum and place your hand underneath your chin in thought. Ok, so, what even happened before all this? You were on your way home, you wanted to get a little midnight snack, someone grabbed your arm in a flash, and boom you were kidnapped.

What in the cliche gods was this!?

You groan and fall back on the bed. Why you? Did Sylus kidnapping you mean you had an Aether Core in your heart? That didn't make any sense though, you didn't have a heart condition. . . . .last time you checked at least.

Wait. Didn't he say something before you passed out again?

"Hello, darling. I'm glad to see you again."

A giggle starts to bubble out of your lips, and a dopey smile forms on your face. He called you darling! He called you darling!!!

. . . Why? He said you had met before, when? You would have remembered meeting a stunning man like him before.

So . . . . what in the world was going on?

"Hello, darling."

"Holy FUCK-" you yelp, snapping your eyes open to sit up straight again, turning your head to stare at the white haired man who was leaning against the door. Ok, so you had a few options. Option 1, act scared and hope he leaves. Option 2, act like MC.

. . . . Option 2 was a bad idea, so never mind.

Option 3! . . . . Flirt with him.

Yes yes, option 3 also wasn't a good idea, but honestly, maybe it was because you knew so much about Sylus, that the scare factor has worn off the moment you realized where you were. Also, he couldn't even kill you because you were MC's twin! Yay sibling perks!

So you make a smirk grow on your face and give Sylus a wink. "Hello, handsome kidnapper~"

This will be an interesting interaction.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | Sylus | 18+

Shorter chapter because instead of the 5 parts like Caleb and or Rafayel, this will have 8 parts plus Sylus and the 18+!

Tag list! - @young-adult-summer @sleepydang @rafayelsbeloved @fayy126 @huuvu @codedove @junrui @animecrazy76

[illbegottenfaith]

handwritten - theo nott x reader

yours and theo’s story as told through notes passed in class

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - came up with this quick idea to release some pent up creative energy while mulling over lucky pt 3. will prob make this an ongoing series for small ideas I can’t get fully fledged fics out of. easy to write, easy to read, enjoy!

tropes/warnings - fluff, a minor hinting at angst, newstudent!theo, estranged friends to lovers

word count - 1.5k

Monday, 10.07 am, Charms

Hey. You might want to pull your nose out of that disgusting textbook for once.

We’ve been over this. Just because you don’t understand something it doesn’t mean it’s disgusting. It’s very disrespectful.

What is disrespectful is you not paying attention to our year’s hottest new commodity - emphasis on the hot. I must say, he fills out that uniform quite nicely.

I’m sure he does.

C’mon, you’re not even a little bit curious? Just a peek?

Y/N? Hellooooooo? 

Oh my god. I know the guy.

???

What is he doing here? Last I heard he was being homeschooled.

Know him how??

We went to the same primary school. We were…friends.

Riiiight.

Don’t get any ideas. I haven’t seen him since I was ten. And he looked very, very different back then. Had a ratty sort of face. I can still kind of see it, actually.

Oh, Y/N, how could you say such awful things about his beautiful face! Oh dear, that bone structure…

Quiet, you. He’s really…grown. He’s so much taller now.

You know what you should do? You should offer to help him catch up.

On five years of school?

Oh, please, he was homeschooled. He had to have learnt some things. Who is he, anyway?

Theodore Nott.

Now that’s an Old Money name if I ever heard one.

Ivy. Be nice.

So? Is he? Old money, that is.

I…suppose so.

Are you sure you two were friends?

Yes. It’s been a while, that’s all. I just…wow. I can’t believe he’s here. Like, right there. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.

What happened?

He moved. I was starting at Hogwarts. We lost touch, it happens.

But now he’s back! Yay! Did you see those sinfully blue eyes of his?

Ivy, you have a boyfriend.

I know. Ivan agrees, by the way.

That he’s hot?

Yes.

He’s sitting on the other side of the room. When did you have time to discuss this??

Just now. Right in front of you. What did you think all that eyebrow-waggling was about?

I thought you were having a stroke. Merlin, the two of you are perfect for each other.

Don’t change the subject. He’s not gay, is he? Your friend? All the hot ones usually are.

I wouldn’t know, now, would I? I haven’t heard anything about him in years. Ivy, leave him alone. Please don’t harass the poor guy, sexually or otherwise. And quit it with the notes. He’ll notice.

How??? Has he got eyes on the back of his very nicely shaped head? He’s busy with Flitwick anyway.

Trust me, he’ll see. Nothing gets past Theodore Nott.

Monday, 2.15 pm, Potions

Well?????

Well, what?

The chat!!! Your chat!!!!!! With Mr. Theodore Nott!!!!!!!!

You have to quit it with the caffeine. You’re far too excitable after lunch.

The chat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was fine. It was…nice.

Uh-huh.

He goes by Theo now.

Okay. I’ll pretend I care about that.

It was all very casual, very superficial. It was really just us exchanging pleasantries. Oh, right. He asked me to accompany him to Quidditch tryouts.

You??? But you hate Quidditch.

I know.

Please tell me you didn’t say that.

I didn't. I just said I didn’t know much about it.

And?

He said that didn’t matter. He just wanted me there for moral support.

Then what was with all the turning red halfway through? You looked like you were going to combust.

Was it that obvious?

Ivan had some pumpkin juice ready, just in case.

It was nothing. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. He called me his good luck charm.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’re going to rip a hole through the parchment.

AWWWWW

So?? Did you say yes??

I said I’d think about it.

BOOOOOOOO

Come on, Vee. He’s been flying since before he could walk. He always talked about joining the big leagues, you know. He knows everything there is to know about Quidditch, so of course he’ll make the team. And it’ll have nothing to do with me.

But he doesn’t even have any friends yet :(

That’s because he hasn’t talked to anyone yet.

Y’know, Romilda Vane wanted to know why he was talking to you of all people.

What’s that supposed to mean??

Eh, you know. You can be a little…snippy.

I am NOT snippy.

There it is. The snippiness.

Whatever. It’s all so pointless. Come Thursday evening, he’ll have joined the Quidditch team and he’ll be hanging out with, y’know, those people, and we’ll be ancient history. He’ll make plenty of friends. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Okay. If you say so. Also, at lunch, I finally tried that thing you’re always talking about, “applying myself,” and I found this article on his dad in the library. From 6 years ago.

Don’t you want to know what the article said?

You could have mentioned he was a death eater, you know.

I don’t care about that, by the way. You used to be friends and that’s good enough for me. But, Y/N, he was arrested six years ago. And you haven’t talked to Theo in six years. But there isn’t any kind of connection between those, is there?

Y/N?

Do not make me throw this at you. I know how you feel about paper cuts.

Tuesday, 3.03 pm, Defence Against the Dark Arts

Where’s your friend?

?

You know. Who you’re always passing notes with in class?

You noticed?

Hard not to. It makes you all fidgety and annoyed.

Yeah, well, Ivy’s an annoying person.

I’ll take your word for it. What do you have after this?

Transfiguration.

Wow. That’s one of the harder ones, isn’t it?

Er, depends on who you ask, I think.

Still brilliant as ever, then.

Shut up. I’m not half the swot I was in primary school. 

I never thought you were a swot. You were just…enthusiastic.

That’s sweet of you to say, Theo.

Huh. I thought I’d always be Teddy to you.

We’re not ten anymore, Theo. I can say your name perfectly now.

That’s good. So, have you thought about it?

Thought about what?

The Quidditch tryouts. You’re the only person I know here so you have to say yes.

I don’t know. Some of the girls look pretty interested in getting to know you.

What?

Nothing. I guess I could swing by for a short while.

That’s my girl.

Thursday, 8.37 pm, Common Room

SO?????

He got in. Obviously. Was there ever any doubt?

Did he run up to you? Did he hug you? Did he pick you up and spin you around???

Witch Weekly is a bad influence on you.

Details, please.

He hugged me. Kind of. Nearly tackled me, he was so excited.

you are SO his good luck charm!!!!!!

Friday, 11.17 am, Defence Against the Dark Arts

Witch Weekly?

It’s not mine. I’m holding it for a friend.

Right.

Really, I am. Ivy’s a fiend for these but she has this Charms test coming up that she absolutely cannot fail.

I believe you. ‘Top 6 Magical Contraceptives for the Modern Witch’ doesn’t sound like your kind of reading material.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was only having a little fun.

I’m not embarrassed. Are you embarrassed?

Erm, no, but you’re very red. Do you need to see the Healer?

I’m fine. It’s just hot. And no one calls Madam Pomfrey ‘the Healer,’ by the way.

Ah. I see.

Is there a point to all this? Did you need to ask something?

Oh, right. What are you up to on Saturday night?

Saturday? Dunno…wanted to take a crack at that Transfiguration essay.

Excellent. I’ll pick you up at 8.

Oh?

It’s nothing. A couple of the guys on the team wanted to celebrate with drinks at Hogsmeade. Everyone’s bringing someone, and I thought it would be nice if you came. Being my good luck charm, and all.

Oh, Theo, you probably don’t know this since you’re new and all, but going down to Hogsmeade is only permissible on certain weekends. And only start a couple of weeks into the term, so not yet.

Did you just -? Oh my god, you did. You laughed at me. You laughed at my note. Out loud. You’re lucky you’re in Slytherin, you know. Snape usually goes absolutely ballistic if anyone interrupts his lesson.

I’m sorry, I forgot what a stickler you were. I just - I didn’t think I’d miss it.

Please, Theo, forget the drinks. I cannot in good conscience stand by and let you break so many rules. You’ve been here less than a week!

Guess you’ll have to keep an eye on me. Make sure I stay out of trouble.

Exactly.

Great. See you Saturday at 8.

Part 2

[ijenoyou]

A new day to love.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

warnings: not really i think ? lol just fluff and a bit of angst

note: yay another follow up of Ojos lindos !! i’m glad yall like it :3 if anyone has a suggestion for this storyline or if it’s a suggestions for another quino work im all earsssaa!!, remember english isn’t my first language so yeah if there’s any mistakes plz don’t mind them hahaha

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen Joaquín. His mother and grandmother took him away on a short vacation after he was discharged from the hospital. But it’s also been a while since the two of you have had a chat. You couldn’t face him, a part of you still angry at yourself for not being in full control of your own powers.

It felt all too overwhelming.

You lost sleep over it, training hard late at night until your body gave up.

“Why so quiet, uh?” Sam’s voice full with curiosity brought you back to reality.

You shifted on your seat at the kitchen aisle and sighed. You tried to avoid Sam’s eyes that seemed to follow every move you make, feeling your body start to feel physically uncomfortable at the question.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” You spoke, your voice came out with difficulty. “I was just dissociated, that’s all.” You tried to give him a smile but failed.

Sam lifted one of his eyebrows, giving you a questioning look. You hated when he did that, because at the end of the day, that would make you crack under pressure and tell him everything each time he did that.

“Is it Joaquín?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes found yours.

“No.”

He sighed. His own mind coming to terms about the fact that you were too stubborn to understand none of Joaquín’s accident was your fault. Or anyone’s for that matter.

“The kid’s coming back today. Did you know?”

Your whole body tensed up, your attention directed towards Sam, who was in front of you while holding an iced glass of water.

You nodded. “He texted me.” Your eyes traveled down Sam’s frame, letting them rest on his hands, following the droplets of water on his glass making your throat burn with thirst.

“A little birdie told me you’ve been avoiding him.”

You scoff after hearing him and stood up.

“Is that little birdie Redwing? You know how I feel about that thing.” You heard Sam laugh at your words.

“Joaquín himself told me, he said you’ve been ignoring every text he sends, I just wanted to know why.”

But, did you fully know why? The first thing that made your brain turn into a fuss was the accident but deep down you knew there’s more to it. And at that exact moment it all came crashing down to you.

What if your power got out of control and you ended up hurt them both?

Hurting Joaquín.

The thought sent a chill down your spine, making your skin explode with a coldness sensation all over it. Sam took notice of that, he saw the way your arms filled up with goosebumps.

“I can’t face him.” A second passed.

“Why?”

“W-What if I hurt him? What if I hurt you?” Distress plastered on your face. “I’m weak and to make things worse I can’t fully control what I do— it was me who failed Joaquín!”

He shook his head and stood up from his seat and walked towards you, he held your forearms in his palms and gave you a little squish for reassurance.

“You didn’t fail him— you won’t hurt us, you won’t hurt him.”

“You don’t know that.” You said in a whisper, instant tears filling your eyes up. “I don’t even know why am I so scared of myself. Before meeting him I didn’t even care of what had become of me after Tony’s death.”

Sam couldn’t believe your words, too stunned at them. The only thing he could do was offer you some sense of comfort, so that’s what he did. He gave you the tightness hug you’ve had since meeting him.

You didn’t know how to react.

You were used to people feeling sorry for you, a situation that became a routine after your father’s funeral. So it wasn’t exactly new what was happening but it felt nice. Sam was a new father figure to you, and you were grateful because if it wasn’t for him you would be living a very unhappy life under Pepper’s roof, living a foreign life with her and your half sister.

“Hey guys, I’m back!” Joaquín’s voice appeared from behind you and Sam. “Oh! And my family is here too!” Before you could leave Sam’s hold, two more voices began talking.

“Capitán América! Es un placer volvernos a ver.” An elderly woman spoke up and you finally let go of Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded. “The pleasure is mine, how was Las Vegas?”

“We loved it! isn’t that right mom?” She turned to another woman. After a few seconds they noticed you standing behind Sam, almost as if you were hiding from them— from Joaquín.

“Ms. Stark, right?” You nodded. “Oh! Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti” She began walking towards you and gave you a very tight hug that caused you to lose air in your chest. Assuming that’s Joaquín’s mother and grandmother, your mind began spiraling. Was he really telling them about you? Did they know you were avoiding him?

“Okay mom, let her go.” Joaquín said while gently taking his mother away from you.

You were about to speak when Sam clapped his hands loudly and smiled.

“Why don’t I take mom and grands on a tour around the base?” He asked them, making the two women smile with joy. Joaquín’s grandmother interlinked her arm with Sam’s and began walking away.

“So…” Joaquín trailed off. “Why are you avoiding me?”

You bit your lip and sighed.

It was sudden, the way you lost the ability to speak what was on your mind, it made you feel crazy. Why did Joaquín made you feel that way? You didn’t like him like that.

Right?

You felt him shift next to you. You ran your fingers through your hair to try grounding yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You finally dared to look at him in the eyes. “I’ve been overthinking a lot of things these days you were gone.” He softly nodded and you continued. “You make me feel a lot of new things and it scares me.”

He dared to step closer to you.

You could feel his warmth the way you did when you first met him.

“Why?”

“What I hurt you? What if one day my powers overtake me? Quino I’ve grown used to this, to us but I don’t what you to end up getting hurt because of me.”

He let a tiny gasp out of lips and got even closer to you. Joaquín thought he was turning crazy, because in what universe would Y/N Stark be confessing she cared about him— the way he cares about her.

“I don’t believe for any second that you would hurt anyone, or me.” He softly spoke as he reached for your hands. “You have the most beautiful soul anyone has, don’t even doubt it for a moment.”

His hands traveled up your arms just for them to rest at your jawline, he was holding your face in place with a steady grip. That action made your cheeks start filling up with color.

“I know what I’m getting into if that’s what you’re worried about.” He spoke while getting even closer to you, to your face. “Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí.” You laugh at his words and nod.

Because it was true.

When you saw him for the first time, you could already tell you would become very fond of him really fast. And that thought became even stronger when he was at the hospital with you taking care of him. You wouldn’t trust another person to help him heal. Even the doctor thought the same, he surprisingly gained his strength back in an incredible speed.

It was quiet for a few moments.

If you focused enough, you could feel his heart beating right through his palm, letting the beat sting your skin. As if that was your way of know he was alive.

With pleading eyes, his own face began reaching for yours.

“Stop me if you don’t—“

Right as you were on verge of kissing him, his mother’s voice appeared again.

“Mijo! Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela.” She said excitedly while looking down at her phone.

She then lifted her gaze from the device and saw the way Joaquín held your face with gentle hands.

“Mom!” He separated from you with a huff. “We were in the middle of a conversation.”

She laughed at his son and shook her head. “Right. What a lovely conversation.”

[ ]

You were now walking towards the exit next to the Torres’s family and Sam after you offered to make dinner for all of them. Sam was chatting with both women behind you and Joaquín while he stood at your side, leading the way.

His grandmother took notice of the way his hand would brush yours while walking, too shy to fully hold it. She smiled and prayed for his grandson to have the courage to do it and when he finally did take your hand in his she celebrated inside her own mind.

When all of you reached the Torres’s car, Joaquín turned around still holding your hand.

“Quino, please call if anything happens.” His grandmother took a step forward and smiled, he nodded his head while letting go of you for a brief moment to give her a very tight hug.

“And you, Mija, take care.” She gently said while tucking a strand of hair away from your face. “Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato.” A smile appeared on your face, Joaquín’s grandmother gave you a wink and hugged you.

After you and Sam said your goodbye’s to them, the both of you decided to step away from the Torres family for a moment to let them have a chat before they leave back home.

“I assume you and pretty boy are okay now, uhm?” Sam said with that cheeky smile of his.

You blushed at the same time your head turned towards him and laughed.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed you with his shoulder.

“I heard his grandma gave you the bendición.”

Now your face felt hotter.

“Stop it.”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“Alright Captain obvious, stop that or I’ll paint Redwing pink.” You said while fixing your gaze on Joaquín.

“Do it.” Sam simply said and shrugs. “Ladies like pink, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Now it was your turn to push Sam, but you did it with too much force you didn’t know you had, causing him to loose his balance and land on a bush that was next to him.

“Torres get your girl!” He shouted from the bushes.

But Joaquín, instead of helping him, only took out his phone and captured a picture of the way Sam’s feet could be the only thing seen in the bushes. You were captured laughing on the ground, noticing the struggle Sam had while trying to get up.

—

Es un placer volvernos a ver - It’s a pleasure to see you again.

Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti - My Quino wouldn’t stop talking about you.

Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí. - Since the first time I saw you, I knew you were made for me and I was made for you.

Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela - Look at the picture I took of your grandma.

Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato - My Quino never stoped talking about you, and I hope it stays that way for a long time.

[lvlybin]

✶ two times for the birthday bitch

summary   ༝༚༝༚ … Happy birthday to you! Your best friends always knew how to plan you celebrations that you would remember for the rest of your life, and the year you turned twenty wasn't any different.

one-shot ! ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა    ۫  ੭̲    haobin x 𝓯!reader ⊹ 𝔀c 4152 ( library )

爱    ࿁ ⠀ ˚⠀ warnings … unprotected p in v sex, effiel tower position, oral (f & m receiving), squirting, creampies & swallowing, food play (frosting), nipple play, teasing in public, mentions of marathon sex, implied overstimulation, pent-up tension between best friends, mxm content (kissing), the boys spoil you BAD, implications of a poly relationship, not proofread 18+ MDNI

✉️ yay a full fic! it's been a while since I've posted one of these... n e ways, my birthday was yesterday (the 7th) so this is an indulgent piece for me with my two fav idols <3

     You’d never been one to make a big deal about your birthday until Hanbin and Hao. Even now, with them as your best friends, it was never you who asked for significant events or large celebrations when it came to the day you were born–it was things they did simply because they loved you. And this year was proving not to be any different. The two of them had spent the previous night at your apartment, awakening you from your sleep as soon as the clock had hit midnight (they had wanted to be the first ones to wish you happy birthday) and once you woke up again, it was much later than your alarm was supposed to go off.

“We got your boss to let you have the day off,” Hanbin had mumbled to you as he remained cuddled into your side. You had still been half asleep, bed warm from housing your three bodies for the expanse of the night, and the mid-morning light cast a glow throughout your bedroom that wasn’t harsh on your eyes. It was your favorite day to wake up. “Can’t have our girl spending her birthday at her boring job.”

You had wanted to protest. Wanted to say that even if it was your birthday, it wasn’t an excuse to skip out on making money. But then your brain, still foggy with rest, remembered just how many sick days you had left and figured it would be fine to listen to your best friends and take the day off. Plus, hearing Hanbin refer to you as their girl made it worth it as well. Your relationship with them was difficult to describe. You were each the best part of the other’s life. The reason to be happy. Parts of a mirror reflected on each other. There were no labels on your relationship, but you all knew that you were in love with the other two. Maybe soulmates was the best word for the three of you. 

You rolled over in bed, tucking yourself into Hanbin’s chest as he lifted his arms to wrap around your upper half in a way that was more comfortable for you both. His scent never failed to consume you–the mix of a powdery, soft warmth that was somehow cold at the same time. One of your definitions of comfort, without a doubt. 

“What plans did you and Hao make f’me today?” you slur quietly, mouth pressed against the skin of his neck. You know it wasn’t your imagination when a small shudder passed through him. He played it off though, one hand coming up to try and tame some of your hair that was messy from sleeping.

“Why would I tell you though, hmm? Wouldn’t that ruin the surprise?” Hanbin was teasing you, he knew you disliked surprises. You groaned, the sound vibrating against the sensitive nerves of his neck, causing a laugh to escape him. “Fine, fine…” He shifted against you, propping himself up on one of his elbows against your satin pillowcase as you lay back down against the bed. The sight of his eyes looking at you with such warmth makes your heart ache with affection, similar to how his pupils dilate; you’re sure your heart increased in size when you looked at him. “Hao’s getting you breakfast right now, and then we’re gonna hang out here for a little. We’re gonna take you shopping in Cheongdam-dong and then we have a reservation at your favorite pottery place… We booked dinner at your favorite restaurant, and when we come back to yours, we’ll have a little party.” 

They made a big deal out of your birthday, but you’d grown to love that as much as they did.

That much was clear as Hao returned to bed with a brown paper bag consisting of all of your favorite pastries from your preferred bakery that was right across the street from your apartment. They knew that you liked to have your space to yourself while eating, so Hao had found his way into Hanbin’s arms as you helped yourself to all of the delicious goodies he’d brought you. And after, the eldest out of the three of you leaned over, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“Happy birthday.” You could practically taste the buttered dough of the croissant he’d eaten.

If you had it your way, you’d spend every morning like this one: with the two people you loved the most, watching as Hanbin fed Hao bites as you lounged in your bed until the clock ticked past 11 a.m. Hanbin, always the one to keep you both on schedule, was finally able to coax you and Hao out of bed shortly after the last pastry was eaten. You’d all gotten ready together, Hao having to practically fight Hanbin off of you to be able to do your skincare for you, before you got dressed. They might as well have begged to pick out your outfit for you, but you had denied their request (only with a promise for them to dress you for dinner). And dressed in your favorite sweater and a cute miniskirt to match, Hanbin had tied your shoes for you and they’d led you out of your apartment.

You knew for a fact that they had already bought you presents. So you weren’t really sure why it seemed like they had challenged each other to see who could spend the most money on you. It had started relatively small–Hapa Kristin, Acne Studios, and Olive Young, but now, they were debating over which Saint Laurent dress would match best with the Cartier pieces they’d just bought for you. A small sigh leaves you as you sit on one of the velvet couches in the changing room. 

“I like the black one more,” Hao protests, referencing the long silk dress with the dark color. The open back was pretty and it fit your body beautifully, so you wouldn’t have been upset if they’d gotten it for you. But Hanbin points towards the dress you’re wearing now.

“This color looks good with her skin, though.” The beige dress you’re wearing is the same fabric as the black one Hao is talking about, and the shape is similar. Hanbin looks to you, “You pick. It’s your birthday.”

You think for a moment. There was something about the black one that made you feel, well, sexy. And when you pictured attending dinner with Hanbin and Hao later, that’s how you wanted them to see you–sexy enough to finally make a move. “The black one.”

As you walk into the fancy restaurant later that evening, that’s exactly how you feel. Especially with the two hottest men you’ve ever seen on each arm. After Hanbin pulls the chair out for you to sit, Hao orders some kind of white château wine that the three of you begin to drink instantly after putting in your requests for food as well. 

“What would I do without both of you?” you muse as you sip at your wine. Hao reaches over, brushing a strand of your curled hair out of the way of the simple yet elegant Cartier necklace they’d bought you that day. 

“Probably be coming home from work.”

You roll your eyes at Hao’s words, suppressing a small laugh. But when his fingers brush against the bare skin just above your chest, you shudder softly. You’d lost count of how many presents they’d gotten you today, but you wanted to be greedy. You wanted more. Specifically, you wanted them. So, you set your wine glass down, one of your hands going under the table to rest on Hao’s thigh. The corners of Hanbin’s mouth turn down a little and his eyebrows furrow as he watches Hao tense up. 

“Do we have anything planned after dinner?” Your hand rubs against the soft material of the slacks Hao’s wearing. Almost up to his dick, and then back down to basically his knee before your fingers could brush his crotch. “You guys didn’t plan a whole surprise party, did you?”

“Nope, we learned from last year,” Hanbin says, his eyes staying on Hao as the older man’s lashes flutter. You squeeze his thigh, making Hao’s eyes widen briefly. “Are you okay, hyung?”

“I’m fine,” Hao mumbles before his hand grabs yours under the table. You smirk a little, thinking he’s going to push it away, only for his hand to guide yours to feel his hard-on. It’s your eyes that widen this time. When you try to pull your hand away, Hao just grips it harder, pressing it against the bulge in his pants. “Better than fine, actually.”

“Alright…” Hanbin trails off, still glancing between the two of you. You’re sure your face is at least a shade darker than usual, and suddenly, you’re grateful for the dim lighting in this restaurant. 

You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself. “So we’re just going back to mine after dinner?” 

Hanbin hums in agreement. “We have one more present for you.” You don’t miss the way the corners of Hao’s mouth twitch into a smile at Hanbin’s words. When he finally lets your hand go, you know the night is far from over.

By the time you return to your apartment, your body is practically thrumming with need.

Hao, being the tease he is, had proceeded to mess with you for the rest of dinner. Rich words whispered in your ear that made the tension in you increase as Hao’s hand tangled in the silk material of your dress. Every now and then, he would’ve scrunched it a little, his touch still burning even through your clothes. And now, with Hanbin’s hand on your exposed lower back, there was a need in you that was only growing by the minute.

You try to distract yourself, though, as Hao passes by you and Hanbin in the entryway of your apartment, the younger beginning to usher you in the familiar direction of your bedroom. “One more present?” you ask, Hanbin’s pinky brushing against where the dress meets your lower spine. The open back made you unable to wear a bra with this dress, and the scoop was so deep that it almost exposed the top of your underwear. 

Hao pushes the door to your bedroom open, only one of your bedside table lamps on from when you were getting ready for bed earlier, casting a golden glow throughout the room. Your bed was still unmade from this morning, and the scene was so cozy that part of you just wanted to lie down and sleep after such a day. But the other part of you–the throbbing between your legs, said otherwise.

“One more present. You can sit down, YNie, I’ll go get it.” With that, Hanbin quietly leaves your room as you sit on the edge of your bed. Hao’s quick to stand in front of you.

You trace your eyes up his frame–how good he looks in those black slacks with the matching jacket, how his hair’s slightly ruffled. How he’s still hard. “D’you win your little bet with Binnie today?” Hao doesn’t say anything, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you as he begins to remove your heels. 

“Of course I won. Only wish that Hanbin would’ve let me get something for him too.” You hum softly as one shoe comes off, and Hao’s fingers massage the arch of your foot to relax it after walking around in heels all night. “I think I won whatever game you were playing at dinner too.”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hao’s plump lips are in the shape of a tiny grin at how you’re acting coy. “Dinner was amazing. The food was great as always.” Hao chuckles at this, slipping your other heel off.

“You’re just asking for it now–”

Hao’s cut off as Hanbin carefully opens the door to your bedroom again, and in his hands, one of the prettiest birthday cakes you’ve ever seen with glowing candles lit on the surface. Your heart softens immediately at the sight, whatever teasing you’d been engaging in with Hao fading. This was probably the most intimate you’d ever been with them. “Happy birthday,” Hanbin whispers as he moves to sit next to you on your bed. “Make a wish.”

You’re quiet for a moment, closing your eyes as you pretend to think of a wish. But you know what you want. You open your eyes, taking a deep breath before blowing the candles all in one go with only one thought in your mind: Let me be theirs and let them be mine. Officially.

Hao cheers softly for you as Hanbin laughs. You can’t help but smile as well. Best. Birthday. Ever. 

“It’s red velvet. Your favorite,” Hanbin says, taking the cake from your hands as Hao waves a hand over the smoke unfurling from the candles. A spark of excitement goes through you.

“You guys are literally the best…” You glance at Hanbin’s hands. “But, um, how are we gonna eat it?” An expression of realization passes over his face.

“Ah, I– forgot the plates and stuff in the kitchen.”

That doesn’t stop Hao, though. He reaches across your lap, smudging his finger through the whipped frosting on one side of the cake and holding it up to your lips. You look at him, that charged energy from earlier slowly returning to your veins. 

“Go ahead.”

Maintaining eye contact with him, you take hold of his wrist, guiding his finger into your mouth. Sweetness from the frosting explodes on your taste buds, and underneath, the skin of Hao’s finger is soft and almost as sugary as the cream. You swirl your tongue around the digit before slowly pulling it out of your mouth. “Delicious.”

Hanbin’s there before you can even process it, smearing frosting across your bottom lip before his lips are crashing against yours. Distantly, you know he’s handing the cake off to Hao to put on your bedside table, but you couldn’t care less about the dessert anymore. You can feel all of the pent-up emotion in the kiss–the longing, the tension, the love. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, licking the frosting off before entering your mouth again to tangle with yours. A small noise escapes you as his hands find your waist, gripping onto the dress they’d bought for you as Hanbin guides you to lie back. 

When Hao’s lips find your neck, you’re practically moaning into Hanbin’s mouth.

There had been a few kisses throughout the years between the three of you. Of course there were; it was bound to happen, considering you’d all been in love with each other since you met. Tension had always been a staple in your relationship, especially when you were all under the influence. But now you were grateful for the practice because, as a result, you knew exactly how each of them liked to be kissed. Plus, you had a feeling that after tonight, though, you’d be getting your birthday wish.

Hanbin finally pulls away, panting softly as he watches you tilt your head back to give Hao more room to lightly suck the sensitive skin of your neck. The sounds you’re making already have a feeling akin to obsession growing in his gut, if that were possible. Hanbin reaches around Hao, carefully pulling his jacket off his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor before he begins unbuttoning the older man’s shirt from behind as your body writhes against the bed. Your thighs rub together desperate for friction against your clit, and one of Hao’s hands comes up to force them apart. 

He only pulls away from you when Hanbin tugs at the collar of his shirt, taking it off of Hao just like he had with his jacket. It feels like whatever breath is left in your lungs is stolen from you as Hao turns his head to kiss Hanbin. You never thought the sight could be so erotic. Of course you’d imagined it before, but this was so much better than any of your fantasies. You sit up a little, removing your arms from the straps of your dress to free your breasts. At some point during their kiss, Hao had gotten Hanbin out of his top too.

Eventually, they separate as well, turning their attention back to you as you lie back again.

“Look at you…” Hanbin breaths as he settles on your left side and Hao on your right. Almost tentatively, his thumb brushes over one of your nipples–both of the nubs already tight and sensitive with arousal. “We’re sorry we kept you waiting so long for us, pretty. We’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

You can only nod in agreement as two of Hao’s fingers capture your right nipple, rolling it between them gently. Enough to give you the sensation you’d been craving for, but not enough for relief. “Hyung,” Hanbin whispers as he lies next to you, mouthing at the top of your breasts. “Wanna get some more of that cake?”

And then, after a moment, more of the frosting is spread over your body. This time, over your right nipple, only for Hao to cover the nerves with his mouth immediately after, sucking the bud in a way that has your back arching off the bed with a loud gasp of his name. “Oh!” One of Hanbin’s arms wraps around your waist in a gesture that’s both meant to be comforting and as a way to keep you still. The feeling of both of their tongues working over your tits has your pussy clenching around nothing, an absurd amount of wetness gathering in your underwear. 

Hao begins to kiss his way down your body, his fingers leaving the whipped frosting from your birthday cake behind for Hanbin to lick up with his tongue. You’re practically trembling beneath them as Hao’s fingers tuck into your dress and your underwear, slowly pulling them down at the same time. When you’re finally bare for them, they can’t help but stare at the apex between your legs for a moment, making your face flush.

“Please–”

“Don’t have to beg, darling, it’s your birthday after all,” Hao interjects, his pointer finger gliding smoothly over your sopping, swollen clit, making you gasp sharply. “Just trying to decide what we should do first.”

But it seems like Hanbin already has an idea as he gestures for Hao to settle between your legs. Only for him to copy the action as well. Your legs are stretched wide over their shoulders, accommodating room for the two of them, and the sight of them looking up at you has you hiding your face in your hands. Hanbin chuckles, reaching up to pull your hands away.

“None of that.” And Hao presses a kiss to your inner thigh before both of them dive in. And if you thought both of their tongues on your tits felt good–this was heaven. You’re honestly not sure how you’re able to last more than a few seconds as Hao occupies himself with your clit, rolling the bud around with the tip of his tongue, causing your hole to leak some of your juices out onto Hanbin’s waiting tongue. Merely teasing you before his tongue pushes inside of you. All of it is sloppy: how wet you are, how you’re still trying to squirm under them and their ministrations, how you can’t decide where to put your hands. But them? They’re perfect as always, working together with a teamwork only the three of you seem to share. 

“C-Close!” you call out only after a few minutes, but how were you supposed to hold on longer than that? These were the two men you’d been in love with for years eating you out like your cunt was the birthday cake that was somewhere nearby. And fuck it, it was your birthday. You could have whatever you wanted. With a final cry of both of their names, gushes of your release are squirting onto their faces, and Hanbin and Hao are more than happy to lap it all up. 

You barely have time to catch your breath before they’re flipping you over and Hao’s taking the spot in front of you on his knees. Your arms feel weak under you as you do your best to hold yourself up, but with the aftershocks of your orgasm going through you, it’s difficult. Behind you, you hear the sound of a belt buckle, and you can only assume that Hanbin’s removing his pants. Hao looks down at you. You pout up at him.

“You’re gonna make me do it?”

“Of course I am, darling. Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean I’m going to unwrap every present for you.”

So, you remove the rest of Hao’s clothing as Hanbin settles behind you, his hands pulling your hips up so you can feel his thick, hard length sliding along your slippery folds. The sensation already has you moaning. That, along with the sight of Hao’s pretty, long dick in front of your face. You jerk him off a little, his eyes falling shut as his full, pink lips part a little. You smirk a little. They’re the same shade as the tip of his cock.

“Take a deep breath f’me,” Hanbin instructs behind you, and you listen, only to feel like your cunt is being practically split in half.

“H-Hanbin!” He shushes you softly, holding himself still as he lets your body adjust to taking him. You can feel everything. Every vein and every twitch as your cunt sucks him in greedily. To try and quiet yourself, you open your mouth to finally let Hao push into your mouth. 

The weight of him on your tongue is incredible, and the taste of him has you pushing your hips back towards where you’re impaled on Hanbin’s dick even if you’re not fully adjusted yet. You’d been waiting for them for years. You didn’t want to take anymore time for them to fuck you. Thankfully, Hanbin seems to get the message as his hips rock forward, setting a slow pace that’s deep enough to have your head spinning. 

One of your hands wraps around the part of Hao you can’t fit in your mouth. Hanbin may have had the thickness, but Hao certainly had the length. Relaxing your jaw and doing your best to remember to breathe through your nose, you look up at Hao to silently communicate with him to use you. And the message is most definitely received with the way his hands tangle into your once perfectly styled hair, rocking his hips towards your mouth in the same way Hanbin takes you from behind. 

This seemed too good to be true–having them on both sides, fulfilling everything you’ve ever wanted (including your pussy). But it was real. That much was clear with how quickly you were already heading towards the edge again. You cry out around Hao’s dick, sweat clinging to your skin as the sounds of your messy pussy fill your bedroom, something strangely satisfying. You feel stuffed to the brim, Hanbin’s dick forcing your gummy walls to mold to the shape of his heavy cock as Hao fills your throat. Yeah, this was heaven.

Hao groans above you, being much louder than Hanbin, whose hands are going to leave bruises with how tightly they’re gripping your hips. “Come on, birthday girl. Give us another one,” Hanbin pants. Your hand had long left the base of Hao’s dick, opting to scratch at his thighs as your thoughts slowly left you–your brain fuzzy and too fucked out to do anything but take it.

With another muffled whine, you’re cumming on Hanbin’s dick, triggering both of their orgasms as well. Hao’s, from the way the vibrations of your throat felt around him, and Hanbin’s, from your walls clenching down on him like you were trying to milk him of everything he was worth. The sounds of their orgasms fill the room just like the sounds of fucking, and when Hao pulls out of your mouth, you weakly swallow what seed hadn’t been shot straight down your throat. 

They give you a moment to catch your breath before you’re speaking up, voice scratchy and quiet. “Best birthday ever.” Hanbin chuckles behind you, giving your ass a small pat.

“Yeah, yeah, we love you too.” You hum happily at that, feeling wholly satisfied as your eyes begin to fall shut. Hands hold onto your shoulders, pushing your back up against Hanbin’s chest, but you don’t think anything of it until you feel the tip of Hao’s dick brush against where Hanbin’s still nestled inside of you. 

“Which one is that… two? Got a few more left, baby, gotta get to the number you turned today.”

[lilhughesy]

So my conrad request is basically the scene in season 1 where they (jeremiah and conrad) go to pick up the girls after they go skinny dipping but reader is there too and drives home with conrad?and smut but it could also just be fluff if you want

i’ve got you, always | c.fisher x reader

a/n: yay!! another conrad fic :) <3 thank you so much for the request, i loved writing it and i hope you enjoy. i had it super fluffy at first but it kind of took its own turn so i hope it’s ok. also, thank you to everyone for all the support for my writing recently — you guys make my day and i can never thank you enough. i love you all truly!

warnings: slight angst, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and swearing.

—

“are you fucking kidding me?!” taylor screams, putting her forearms onto the dock and searching, “i knew those girls were fucking bitches!”

belly and i swim towards her, “what happened?” belly asks,

“your fucking snake friends took our clothes and ran off, that’s what!” taylor hisses, “all that’s left are our phones.”

“they did what?” belly panics, lifting her high high enough to see the dock, “oh my god.”

i feel my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach and the colour in my face drain away. i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping in hopper’s cove but i did it anyways since taylor and belly along with belly’s friends were going.

“what do we do?” belly asks us, frantically looking around for a possible solution, “there’s a boat cover we could use!”

“are you fucking joking?” taylor scoffs, shaking her head, “absolutely not.”

“i’m calling conrad,” i tell them, grabbing my phone and clicking his name on speed dial.

i hear the girls bicker by me as my hands shake, bringing my phone to my ear, “c- conrad? i need you.”

“where are you?” he asks, concern laced into his voice. i briefly explain the situation as my lip quivers, “please hurry”

“i’ll be there as soon as i can, lovie. hang tight.” he promises before hanging up.

i turn to the girls and tell them that conrad is on his way while belly says that jeremiah is also coming. we patiently wait for what feels like hours in the water. i could feel my hands shaking as i keep myself propped up on the small dock since my legs were exhausted. my eyes were welling up with tears from anxiety — only hoping conrad will get here soon.

after what felt like hours, we heard a car’s engine running and then stop. he’s here.

“bells, n/n, oh my god,” jeremiah pants out, “i came as soon as you hung up.” he tells belly, “conrad is here too.”

on cue, conrad comes up behind jeremiah while holding a plastic bag of clothes, “nicole gave these to me. i hope everything’s in this.”

“thanks guys,” belly says sheepishly, “do you mind turning around?”

their eyes go widen in embarrassment but quickly turn around while taylor, belly, and i climb up onto the dock. we sift through the plastic bag, handing each other our clothes.

i quickly pull on my dry clothes onto my wet, water dripping body. i pull my drenched hair into a messy bun, with water droplets crawling down the back of my neck. the night breeze was freezing on my body. i shiver and close my hands into tight fists in attempt to stop the shaking.

taylor and belly are soon fully dressed again, in somewhat the same state as i was but much more collected than my embarrassed self.

“okay, you can turn around,” taylor tells the two brothers. they face us and motion us to follow them towards the cars.

“i can’t believe that they did that” jeremiah says, his arms crossed over his chest.

taylor scoffs, “i do, i literally called it that they were all bitches.”

conrad lets belly and taylor pass him to follow jeremiah, he gives me a small sympathetic smile and puts a comforting arm around me, “come on.”

we reach the two cars, belly and taylor whispering to each other, “we’ll ride with you, jere.” belly tells him before herself and taylor climb into the jeep. taylor gives me a quick wink before closing her door.

“see you two at home?” jeremiah asks conrad, who nods. the jeep soon pulls away onto the pitch black road and heads towards the fisher summer home.

“you okay?” conrad asks, facing me, “i’m sorry that happened, you didn’t deserve that.”

his hand is on my shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles against the material of my shirt. i couldn’t even focus, and not in the typical sense when i’m around him. it’s usually butterflies, racing heart rate, heat on my cheeks, but this felt nearly the exact opposite.

it felt like my heart was being squeezed, my stomach was churning, and my stupid hands wouldn’t stop shaking. my vision was slightly blurry from the tears that were threatening to fall.

“you’re freezing,” he breathes out, “hold on”

he turns away and rummages around in the backseats of his car. conrad turns back to me and hands me a grey hoodie, his hoodie, “take this.”

i slowly take it from his hands, trying with every ounce of my strength to stop the shakiness of my hands. i didn’t want him to see the anxious state that i was in. it was such a stupid reason to be anxious anyways, taylor and belly were completely fine after getting their clothes. pissed off maybe, but not acting the way i was.

i have his hoodie in my hands but i don’t put it on.

“lets get you home, love.” he says but i can barely hear him with the ringing in my ears.

conrad starts walking towards his side of the car, assuming that i was also getting into the vehicle — but i feel frozen. stuck in one place.

why was it getting harder to breathe?

conrad’s hand is on the small of my back and my heart rate spikes up to an unbelievable high level, but not in that way. something is wrong, and my chest is hurting.

my hand goes to my sternum of my chest, slowing rubbing it as my breathing picks up. my body was trembling and my chest was rising and falling at a concerning pace.

“babe?” he stands up from his seat. my legs felt weak yet everything else felt heavy, why is it heavy? i feel myself collapse towards the gravel, but i don’t fall.

conrad was able to get to my side quick enough to prevent me from falling. his strong arms wrapped around me, “hey… hey, what’s wrong?”

i shake my head repeatedly, “i- i-” i stutter out and it’s hard to speak, my throat feels dry and it hurts.

he cradles me on the side of the road, “sh, it’s okay. nice and slow, what’s going on?”

“i c- can’t breathe” i tell him, his finger interlace with my shaking ones. he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them,

“you’re okay, love,” he says softly, “you’re having a panic attack.”

my eyes widen, i’ve never had one of those before. i shut my eyes in fear. my breathing doesn’t slow down for a moment, if anything, it feels like it’s going even faster now.

“look at me,” he whispers, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, “baby, look at me please.”

i open my eyes to look into his blue ones, “breathe with me, okay? nice and slow.”

i watch as conrad takes a deep breath, i try to but i don’t think it’s even possible to breathe.

“in,” he inhales, i attempt at copying his actions by taking a breath of air in, “and out.”

exhale.

my breath trembles out of my lips, he slowly nods, “just like that, in…. and out.”

we take a few more deep breaths together, until mine regulates again. conrad smiles at me, “there you go, now do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

i swallow, “i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping with the girls, i don’t fit in with them. they’re all so pretty and fun and everyone loves them. i’m nothing like them.”

a tear slips from the corner of my eye, conrad is quick to wipe it away, “so, i thought if i did it then maybe i’ll be like them. i thought they liked me too, fuck’s sake i’m so gullible. they all left! with me naked in some stupid cove.” i cry out, burying my face into my hands.

“oh, baby,” conrad coos, “sh…” he places a kiss on my hair.

he pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my torso and placing his chin on my head, “you don’t deserve that, and you’re perfect the way you are. i don’t want to hear any of that ‘no one likes me’ shit, ok? because i do.”

“wh- what?” i ask, looking at him with watery eyes.

“i think you’re amazing just as you are,” he repeats, “you’re my y/n, i don’t want you to be one of those debutante sheep. i love you as y/n.”

my heart fills with so much love, i reach up to pull him into a kiss. he kisses me back immediately, his hands trailing up from my waist to cup my face.

“lets go home, yeah?” he asks after pulling away, “lets get you showered and into some comfy, warm, and dry clothes. we can cuddle and watch a movie. sounds good?”

“sounds perfect.” i blush, i finally pull on his grey hoodie. it falls to my mid thigh and it smells like him; cologne, cigarettes, and ocean water.

conrad helps me to my feet and opens the car door for me, “oh, and conrad?”

he looks down at me and hums, “thank you for coming to get me.” i say to him.

“i’ve got you baby, always.” conrad responds with a kiss before closing the car door.