#especially one with such a dramatic emotional shift

[leopardmask-ao3]

Day 8 - xBCrafted

Drabble for @hermitadaymay.

“A’ight, people. So there's been a bit of a discussion lately on which hermit is the oldest. Etho, maybe? Stress? 

No. It's me. Good ol’ xB- I mean, what’d you think? The guardian bits are for show? They keep me alive. I've been around since the Before Times. I remember when there were six sentient races, instead of, like... three and a half. I had... I protected one of them. For as long as I could...

...Sorry. I just... It would never have been enough...

...I just gotta make sure... I take extra good care of my hermits now. Yeah.”

[camzeecorner]

TEACH HER 18+

part two here

pairing : matt, chris, nate x sub!femreader

Summary : Nicole spends time with her friends. Matt, Chris, and Nate. During a casual hangout, the conversation shifts to sex when Nate shares his secrets, prompting Matt and Chris to join in. Noticing Nicole's silence and confusion about the topic, they decide to enlighten her that night, exploring various aspects of intimacy and how to discover pleasure in her own body.

warnings : virgin reader, no p in v, eating out, fingering?, cum eating, squirting, pet names, boob sucking, praise, manipulation if you squint. lmk what I missed!

﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡

The soft glow of string lights illuminated Nicole's room, casting a warm ambiance that enveloped her and her friends. The walls were adorned with posters of their favorite bands, and the faint scent of vanilla candles filled the air. Nicole sat cross-legged on her bed, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness as Matt, Chris, and Nate sprawled across the floor and her desk chair, laughing and joking.

“Okay, okay, so who wants to go first?” Matt grinned, leaning back with his hands behind his head. His confidence was palpable, and it made Nicole both admire and envy him.

“I’ll go,” Chris said, his voice steady. “So, there was this one time at a party…” He paused for dramatic effect, glancing around the room as if the walls themselves were listening. “I was talking to this girl, and things were going great. We ended up sneaking away to a quieter spot. You know how it goes.” He chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “We kissed, and then, well… one thing led to another.”

“Dude, no way!” Matt interrupted, his eyes wide with excitement. “Did you actually—”

“Yeah, we did,” Chris admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “But it was so awkward! I mean, I had no idea what I was doing. I was just trying to remember what I’d seen in movies. It was like a comedy show gone wrong.”

Nicole couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room easing a little. But as the conversation continued, she felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her.

Nate, who had been quiet until now, shifted in his seat. “I think the first time is always awkward,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “I remember mine. It was with my girlfriend, and I was so nervous. I kept overthinking everything—like, what if I messed it up? What if it hurt her?” He looked at Nicole, his expression sincere. “I wanted it to be perfect, but it turned out to be… well, not what I expected.”

“What do you mean?” Matt asked, his curiosity piqued.

Nate sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It was just… there was this pressure to perform, you know? I wanted to impress her, but I ended up just feeling lost. We laughed about it afterward, but in the moment, I felt like I was failing.”

“That’s so relatable,” Chris said softly, his heart aching for him. “I think we all put so much pressure on ourselves, especially when it comes to something so intimate.”

“Exactly!” Matt chimed in, his tone shifting to a more serious note. “I mean, it’s supposed to be this amazing thing, but it can be so confusing. I’ve had my fair share of awkward moments too. Like, once I tried to be all smooth, and I ended up knocking over a lamp. Total disaster!”

The room erupted in laughter, but Nicole could sense the deeper emotions beneath the surface. She shifted uncomfortably on her bed, twiddling with the loose strings on her blanket.

Nate glanced at Nicole, his expression shifting from casual curiosity to concern as he noticed the turmoil behind her eyes. It seemed she had withdrawn into a world of unspoken thoughts since their earlier chat. The air felt heavy with unshared words, and he sensed she was carrying an unseen weight. Leaning in, he broke the silence gently. “What about you, Nicole?”

When he said her name, it was like a lifeline pulling her back from her thoughts. She blinked, momentarily lost, as his warm gaze brought her back to reality. With her heart racing, she took deep breath’s collecting herself.

She giggled softly, glancing down at her lap. “What about me?” she asked in a quiet voice. She was unsure of what they were discussing and if she even wanted to know. Feeling lost throughout the conversation, she tried to piece together their words. The atmosphere seemed to shift, growing colder against her skin. She fluttered her eyes up to look at the boys.

She could hear Chris laughing silently at the earlier remarks. Matt looked at her, clearing his throat and sitting up straight. “Your first time... what was it like?” She met his gaze, completely confused by his question. “My first time what?” she asked, not grasping what he was getting at.

The boys giggled lightly. “Your first time having sex...” Chris said cheerfully, tilting his head to the side. She felt her cheeks heat up under their stares. She had thought they were just teasing her.

She felt like she was sinking into her mattress, completely hopeless. Her ears heated up and rang slightly. “...I don’t know what that is...” she spoke quietly.

Nate’s eyes widened in disbelief at her comment, his mind racing to process what he had just heard. Matt stifled a giggle, pressing his lips together to contain his amusement. Chris, on the other hand, stared at her with an unreadable expression, his brow furrowing slightly. “Wait...” Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward with curiosity. “You’re telling us that you’ve never had sex?” She let out a frustrated sigh, shrugging her shoulders as irritation bubbled up inside her at the awkward direction of the conversation.

“I guess... I don’t even know what sex is...” she said, turning away from the boys and shifting her body at an angle to avoid their gazes. Embarrassment washed over her like a wave, making her feel small and excluded from the conversation. “You never had the sex talk with your parents?” Nate asked, still in utter shock, his voice tinged with disbelief.

She flipped onto her back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in the texture of the paint. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she shut her eyes, trying to block out the world around her. “...No... is that bad?” she spoke in a frail voice, the vulnerability evident in her tone. Chris licked his lips thoughtfully before getting up and walking toward her bed, settling beside her with a quiet intensity.

Chris ran his fingers through his hair, turning to face her with a serious expression. She sat up, bracing herself for what he was about to say. “It’s not exactly good to be unaware of it...” Chris began, choosing his words carefully to ensure she would understand. “Sex is something you should know about; it’s an important part of life.” She listened intently, absorbing every word he spoke. “What is it?” she asked, glancing around the group for answers. Matt and Nate exchanged looks before shifting their focus back to Chris, who met their gaze, ready to clarify further.

The boys were in shock, their minds racing as they processed the reality that they would have to teach their best friend about sex. They weren’t upset with her; instead, they felt a wave of empathy wash over them. They understood the constraints her parents had placed on her. Strict Christians, her parents had meticulously guided her down what they deemed the “right path,” which meant shielding her from the outside world. This overprotection kept her away from people, boys, and the very concept of sex, leaving her unprepared for the realities of life that everyone else seemed to take for granted.

“Sex is something...” Matt began, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temples as if searching for the right word. “...valuable,” Nate chimed in, finishing Matt's thought. Chris nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he recognized the weight of their conversation. The atmosphere was charged with the importance of what they were trying to convey, and the boys knew they had to get it right for her sake.

“Okay, Nicole, listen,” Chris began, his voice steady yet gentle, trying to ease the tension in the air. He shifted slightly, ensuring he had her full attention. “Sex is a natural part of life, something that happens between two people who care about each other. It’s not just a physical act; it’s also emotional. When two people decide to be intimate, they share a connection that goes beyond just their bodies.”

He paused, searching her eyes for understanding before continuing. “It’s about trust and respect. You should feel safe with the person you choose to be with. It’s important to know that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready. There’s no rush; it’s a big step, and it should never feel forced.”

Chris took a deep breath, wanting to make sure she grasped the concept fully. “When people have sex, it can lead to different things—like a deeper bond or even starting a family. But it also comes with responsibilities, like being safe and considering the feelings of everyone involved. It’s not just about pleasure; it’s about being responsible and caring for one another.”

He looked at her earnestly, hoping she could see the importance of what he was saying. “So, if you ever have questions or feel unsure, talk to someone you trust. It’s better to be informed than to go into it blindly.”

“Someone I trust?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes darting around the group for support. The boys nodded encouragingly, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. “Well... I trust you guys,” she finally admitted, her voice gaining strength.

Nate’s head snapped up at her words, surprise etched across his face. “What are you saying?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with intrigue.

“I mean... I know you said it’s between two people, but... I trust all of you. Why can’t we all have sex... together?”

Matt suddenly choked on his drink, caught off guard by her bold question, his eyes widening in disbelief. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air as the boys exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond to her unexpected proposal.

Matt sucked in a breath, his expression serious as he prepared to speak. “It’s possible...” he began, his voice steady but cautious. “But that’s something you really need to be sure about.” He glanced at Nate, who nodded in agreement, his gaze focused intently on Nicole.

“Especially for your first time,” Nate added, his tone softening. “Those moments are meant to be special, something you’ll remember forever. It’s important to think about what you truly want and how it feels to share that with someone.” The atmosphere grew heavy with the significance of their words, each boy acutely aware of the weight of the decision they were discussing.

“I am sure,” she spoke up defensively, her voice firm and resolute. Frustration bubbled beneath the surface; she was tired of being treated like a child. If others could explore the pleasures within their own bodies, why couldn’t she? Curiosity sparked within her, an eagerness to learn more about the complexities of intimacy.

“Doll, you really have to think about it,” Chris interjected, his tone serious as he ran a hand down his face, a gesture that revealed his concern. The weight of the conversation hung in the air, and he searched her eyes for understanding, hoping she would consider the implications of her decision.

“Please,” she spoke up, her voice tinged with desperation. She was willing to do anything to convince the boys, her heart racing as she laid it all on the line. The boys exchanged glances, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Matt smirked, his expression playful as he shot them the ‘I say let’s do it’ look, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Chris rolled his eyes at his brother, a mix of exasperation and concern on his face. “If we do this...” he began, his tone serious as he locked eyes with her. “You have to be honest with us, okay? Tell us if you’re hurt, uncomfortable, or if it’s too much. If you want to stop, just say ‘purple.’” His gaze bore into hers, emphasizing the importance of trust and communication in this moment.

She sat up, her excitement palpable as she nodded her head rapidly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “What do I do first?” she asked, her voice filled with eagerness. Matt and Nate began to rise, making their way over to her bed, their movements confident as they took seats close by, creating an intimate circle around her.

Chris, however, moved with a gentle assurance, placing a hand on her arm and pulling her slightly toward him. “Be patient, okay?” he spoke in a calm, soothing voice, his tone a grounding presence amidst her excitement. She nodded softly at his words, feeling the weight of his reassurance settle within her.

Chris gently pulled her small frame closer, guiding her to sit between his legs. He hooked his own legs around hers, creating a secure space as he spread her legs slightly apart. The unexpected movement caught her off guard, and she let out a soft giggle, the sound light and playful in the air as she adjusted to the new position.

Chris wrapped his arms around her waist, his fingers playfully dancing just above the waistband of her small shorts. A gasp escaped her lips at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through her in a way she had never experienced before. She squirmed slightly, trying to shake off the unfamiliar sensation that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Nate, observing her movements, couldn’t help but smirk to himself, amused by the tension in the air.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Nate asked, his gaze locking onto hers. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back against Chris's chest, seeking comfort in his presence. “It feels uncomfortable,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly as the words slipped out.

Matt bit his lip, intrigued. “What’s that, doll?” he prompted, leaning in closer. “My private area…” she whispered, her cheeks flushing as she spoke. “Yeah?” Chris replied, his voice low and seductive as he leaned in to her ear. “Mmhm,” she groaned, the sound escaping her lips, filled with a mix of confusion and unexpected thrill.

“You wanna know why?” Chris hummed softly against her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine as he peppered gentle kisses on her delicate skin. She nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. “That’s because…” he whispered, his voice low and intimate.

With a teasing touch, he slipped his slim fingers into her shorts, grazing the fabric of her panties, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “..you’re wet,” he finished, his words hanging in the air, thick with tension and desire.

She hummed at his touch, a wave of relief washing over her as the sensation coursed through her body. “I’m wet?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, small and uncertain.

Matt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the fabric of his pants tighten around him. “Yeah, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re soaked,” he replied, his tone revealing a mix of surprise and intrigue.

She loved the feeling of his fingers tracing against her core, each delicate stroke igniting a fire within her. She forced her hips upward, desperately seeking more of his touch, craving the connection that sent shivers through her entire body.

“Look at you… you’re getting all wet from a little touch…” Chris whispered teasingly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. She felt her eyes rolling back in pleasure, completely lost in the sensation, unable to get enough of the intoxicating feeling. But just as the waves of ecstasy began to build, Chris suddenly pulled his fingers away, jolting her out of her trance and leaving her yearning for more.

She looked up at Chris, her eyes shimmering with a sad and desperate expression. “W-…why’d you stop?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with longing. Chris met her gaze, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he replied, “Why don’t we let Matt have a turn…” His gaze trailed up to his brother, the air thick with unspoken tension.

He slid from underneath her, smoothly taking Matt’s spot next to Nate, the shift in weight creating a palpable tension in the air. Matt climbed into Chris’s former position, settling back into the familiar space he had occupied moments before. As he ran his fingers up and down her thighs, he could feel goosebumps rising on her skin, each gentle caress igniting a spark of anticipation that danced across her body.

His fingers found their way back to the place where she ached most, sliding in a slow, deliberate motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. She tipped her head back, her mouth falling open in a breathless gasp as little pants and fragile breaths escaped her lips. “Matt…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm,” he hummed softly in response, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He could feel the effect he was having on her, the wetness on her panties growing, a testament to her desire as he continued to tease her senses.

He slipped his hand into her underwear feeling the cold wet feeling on her folds. “Oh matt..” she moaned grabbing his hand. “It’s okay.. you’re okay.” He spoke to her. He started with slow strips, going up and down her folds. She bit her lip shutting her eyes.

He started moving his fingers in a circular motion, making her legs twitch beneath him. He was going at a painfully slow pace, making her heart race and chest rise. He sped the movement of his fingers up slightly.

“Does that feel good?” Matt asked in a teasing voice, his tone playful yet intimate. She nodded her head, too overwhelmed to form words, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. A tightening sensation gripped her lower stomach, each wave of pleasure intensifying as she struggled to keep her composure.

“My… my stomach…” she squealed, a mix of surprise and pleasure in her voice. She could feel her stomach caving in, a sensation both foreign and exhilarating. The unfamiliar way her body was reacting left her breathless, as if every nerve ending was on fire, igniting a whirlwind of sensations she had never experienced before.

“You’re about to cum,” Matt spoke in a soft, enticing voice. He quickened the pace of his fingers, moving even faster, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She yelped, arching her back in response to the overwhelming sensations. In a moment of instinct, she closed her thighs tightly, but Matt gently pushed them apart, his touch firm yet reassuring, keeping her exposed to the rising tide of ecstasy.

She was panting heavily, her breaths coming in rapid, uneven gasps as her vision blurred at the edges. A wave of shock coursed through her body, making it difficult to focus on anything around her. Every muscle felt tense and heavy, as if weighed down by an invisible force. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, a numbness creeping in that left her feeling both exhilarated and disoriented. “You came,” Matt giggled, his voice light and teasing, cutting through the haze of her sensations.

She opened her eyes slowly, the world around her coming into focus as she tried to regain her strength, still riding the waves of an intense high. “Did it feel good?” Chris asked, his voice soft as he reached forward to caress her leg gently. “It felt really good,” she replied, her voice cracking from the emotions and tears she had let out, each word tinged with a mix of vulnerability and relief.

Matt pulled his hand from her giving his fingers a lick. He moaned at the tatse of her juices. He was in pure awe. “You tatse so sweet baby.” He smiled down at her. “Here” he placed his hand to her mouth allowing her to suck one of his fingers. She was unsure of what to expect. She moaned at the taste. It was sweet like a rich honey. “That’s what you taste like” she sucked his finger clean releasing his finger with a pop sound. She looked at the boys, “what do you tatse like” nate smirked at her comment, “that’s for next time, todays about you and your pleasure”

Nate rose to his feet, striding purposefully toward her. Matt shifted away, returning to the chair he had occupied just an hour before, leaving the space between them charged with anticipation. Nate gently guided her body until she lay flat against the soft surface of the bed, adjusting her position to bring her closer to the edge. He sank to his knees on the plush carpet below, a sense of devotion evident in his posture. With careful hands, he lifted her legs and rested them on his shoulders, creating an intimate connection that spoke volumes without words.

Nate's hands glided up and down her thighs, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through her. He flashed a gentle smile that lit up his face, then leaned in to plant soft, lingering kisses along her skin, each one a tender caress. As he inched closer to the delicate inner part of her thighs, the air between them crackled with a mix of anticipation and intimacy, making the moment feel electric and alive.

“M’gonna take these off, okay?” he said softly, his voice laced with a gentle reassurance. With deliberate movements, he grasped the waistband of her shorts, slowly pulling them down in one smooth motion, revealing her underwear beneath. As he continued, he slid both the shorts and the fabric underneath down together, his touch careful and respectful, creating an atmosphere of trust and intimacy.

He gently grazed his fingers over her core, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. In that moment, he couldn’t help but be in awe of her; she was stunning, perfectly sculpted in every way. A soft whine escaped her lips at his touch, the familiar warmth and wetness returning, intensifying the connection between them.

He slipped a finger through her folds, the slickness igniting a flutter in his heart that he couldn't ignore. He craved more, the desire overwhelming him. Wasting no time, he dove in, taking a bold lick that made her cry out in surprise and pleasure. Her legs instinctively clamped shut, trapping his head between her thighs, but that only fueled his determination to continue.

He kitten-licked her, savoring the sweet, intoxicating wetness that filled his senses. A deep groan escaped him as he gripped her thighs, his fingers sinking into her soft skin, pulling her closer as he lost himself in the moment.

“Oh g-god—” her breath hitched, caught off guard by the sensation of two mouths suddenly attaching to her. Matt and Chris sat across from her, their lips exploring her neck with a fervor that sent shivers down her spine. She hadn’t even noticed them move, completely enveloped in the unexpected pleasure that consumed her.

Matt bunched her shirt up, pulling it off her with a swift motion. They gazed at her bare chest, their eyes filled with a mix of admiration and mischief as they exchanged smirks. Wasting no time, Chris and Matt leaned in, their mouths eagerly sucking at her smooth skin, feeling her buds harden beneath their warm, teasing lips.

Nate was eating her like his last meal making sure to lap up every juice. He was so addicted to her taste. Her pure innocence was gone for sure. He was thrusting into the air being in so much pleasure himself. He was desperate to find some friction. She was shaking uncontrollably not knowing how much more she could take. Nate was eating her so well she was sobbing uncontrollably. She was sure she would be limp tomorrow. She whined as she was rolling her heat on his face feeling his nose brush against her.

Nicole let out a desperate scream as a wave of sensation coursed through her, tightening her stomach once more. The feeling of Chris and Matt’s mouths skillfully working on her chest, paired with the intoxicating pleasure of Nate’s tongue, sent her spiraling toward the edge. She felt as if she might explode from the overwhelming mix of sensations, each touch igniting a fire within her that she could barely contain.

She tangled her fingers in Nate’s hair, a desperate attempt to pull him away as her chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. “I-I’m… I’m so—” Her words faltered as she felt her breath hitch, her gaze fixating on the liquid spilling out of her. In a frantic effort to close her legs, she felt Nate begin to softly pat her aroused heat. A loud scream escaped her lips, tears streaming down her face as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed her.

As Nate ceased his movements, she struggled to catch her breath, her chest heaving with each labored inhale. Matt and Chris pulled away, detaching their lips from her skin, their expressions a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. They all sat up, breathless, the air thick with the remnants of their shared intensity, each of them trying to regain their composure in the aftermath of the overwhelming experience.

“Well… that was…” Matt began, his voice trailing off as he processed the sheer shock of the moment. Nate, with a playful grin, was licking the remains of juice that had spilled onto his face, savoring every drop. “I’d do that again,” he laughed, the sound light and carefree.

Nicole laid limply on her bed, a blissful smile gracing her lips. “You okay?” Chris asked gently, running his fingers through her hair, his touch soothing. She nodded softly, her heart still racing. “That was really nice,” she admitted, her smile widening. “Can we do that more often?” She glanced around at the group, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

They exchanged looks, a silent understanding passing between them. “Sure,” Matt replied softly, his hand caressing her cheek, a tender gesture that deepened the moment.

“I think it’s safe to say I really enjoy sex!” Nicole joked, a playful grin spreading across her face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she sighed, clearly reveling in the lighthearted atmosphere.

﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡

A/n: wow.. this one was so intense!! lmk if u like the smut content, lowk enjoy writing it!!

[pucksandpower]

Family Feud

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

Summary: Max thinks it’s bad enough that his sister is dating his emotional support rival … but did they really have to rub salt in the wound by making him want to puke on national tv?

Warnings: 18+ content mildly implied

You take a deep breath as you walk onto the Family Feud stage, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. You never expected to be here, about to face off against your brother and his Red Bull Racing teammates in a battle of wits. But when Fred Vasseur talked to you about potentially doing an episode of the show for charity, you jumped at the chance.

Especially since it meant spending time with your boyfriend.

You glance over at Charles and he winks at you, his smile making your heart flutter.

You could stare into each other’s eyes all day so you force yourself to look away and turn to face the host Steve Harvey as he introduces the teams.

“Welcome to Celebrity Family Feud!” Steve announces. ��Today we’ve got two Formula 1 teams ready to compete. Let’s meet the teams!”

Steve starts with the Red Bull Racing team. “We’ve got Team Principal Christian Horner, Red Bull drivers Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez, and AlphaTauri drivers Daniel Ricciardo and Yuki Tsunoda!”

The crowd cheers as the guys wave. Max shifts awkwardly, clearly not comfortable being on stage. You stifle a laugh, knowing he would rather be anywhere than here right now.

“And the Scuderia Ferrari team,” Steve continues, “led by Team Principal Fred Vasseur, with drivers Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, Chief Technical Officer Y/N Verstappen, and reserve driver Antonio Giovinazzi!”

You and your teammates greet the audience. As you pass Max, you ruffle his hair teasingly. “Ready to lose?”

He swats your hand away, rolling his eyes. “You wish.”

Steve explains the rules and then it’s time for the face-off. You and Charles step up to represent Ferrari while Daniel and Max come forward for Red Bull.

“Alright, we surveyed 100 people, top five answers are on the board,” Steve says. “Name something you do to get pumped up before a race.”

You ring the buzzer just before Max. “Listen to hype music!” You shout.

“Listen to hype music!” Steve repeats. “Let’s see if it’s up there!”

You hold your breath as the board flips, revealing your answer in the #2 spot. You and Charles high-five triumphantly.

“Alright, Red Bull, you can steal if you have a better answer,” Steve prompts.

Max thinks for a moment. “Visualize winning,” he tries.

“Good answer, good answer,” Steve nods. But it’s not there. You grin at Charles, knowing Ferrari has taken round one.

The game continues, both teams battling it out trying to guess the survey answers.

You and Charles can’t resist teasing your brother every chance you get.

“What might a Formula 1 driver do to unwind after a long race?” Steve asks next.

You buzz in with a sly smile. “Make love to their partner!”

Charles doubles over laughing as Max makes gagging noises, his face turning bright red.

“Wooowee, let’s see if our survey takers agree! Is making sweet sweet love to their partner on the board?” Steve chuckles. Unbelievably, it shows up as the #4 answer.

“Yes!” You shout, kissing Charles on the cheek. Max is shaking his head, looking like he wants to disappear. You blow him a taunting kiss, which just makes him cringe more.

“Red Bull, you gotta come back from this,” Steve says.

“Uhhh ... play video games,” Daniel guesses but the large red X that appears on the screen shows that Ferrari maintains the lead as you head into the final round.

“Alright, this is for the win. Ferrari just needs 9 points to end this right here,” Steve announces dramatically. “Name something you might find in an F1 driver’s motorhome.”

Charles rings in first. “Condoms!” He calls out, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laugh as Max lets out an anguished yell. “Stoooooop!”

“Survey says ... number three answer!” Steve announces. “Ferrari wins!”

Charles grabs you in a celebratory hug, spinning you around happily. You kiss him deeply, not caring that Max is fake vomiting behind you.

You break apart from your boyfriend, glancing back at Max still pretending to gag.

“Ugh get a room,” Max complains.

“Don’t worry, we plan to as soon as we get done with this,” you wink.

Max looks utterly disgusted as always.

“Alright folks, time for the Fast Money round!” Steve announces. “First up for Ferrari is Charles Leclerc!”

You blow Charles a flirty kiss as he takes the stage.

“Name something an F1 driver might eat before a race,” Steve begins.

Charles shoots you a shit-eating grin before winking at the camera. “Their beautiful girlfriend.”

You giggle as Max turns an unnatural shade of red alarmingly similar to your Ferrari branded shirt.

“Let’s see if the survey agrees!” Steve turns to the board.

No match but you don’t care.

Charles fires through the next few questions.

“Name something you’d pack for a race weekend.”

“Handcuffs,” he laughs at Steve’s scandalized expression.

You pretend to fan yourself while Max bangs his head against the podium in agony.

The buzzer sounds and Charles finishes strong. You give him a hug as you take the stage instead.

“Name something associated with F1,” Steve says.

“Fast cars and sexy drivers,” you reply with a wink towards Charles.

Charles blows you a kiss. Max looks ready to walk off stage or stab a mechanic with a fork.

You hope it’s the first option. One mechanic stabber in the family is more than enough, thank you very much.

You match Charles’ style, giving mostly normal answers until …

“Name something you pack for a weekend trip.”

You tap your chin playfully. “Lots and lots of lingerie.”

Charles whistles and cheers as you curtsy. Max is nearly crimson with embarrassment.

“And that’s the game!” Steve concludes. “Congratulations to Ferrari for their big win today on Celebrity Family Feud! $46,000 will be donated to Racing For Kids on your behalf.”

You leap into Charles arms, kissing him deeply. “That’s how it’s done, schatje!”

“We make an unstoppable team,” Charles smiles, dimples on full display, and you swear that some of the women in the audience swoon.

Max just shakes his head as he stomps to the exit. “You two need Jesus.”

But you’re too busy gazing adoringly at Charles to notice. Winning the show was fun but the real prize is having the love of your life by your side.

[swarvey]

how they react to you getting hurt | sdv x g/n reader (part one)

part two

a/n: nothing like a little bit of angst. (but a lot of fluff, of course.)

—

elliott

nearly faints when you come home all bandaged up

he's always been confident in your strength, and you've never really gotten that banged up before

so when he sees your arm in a sling, he practically has a heart attack

definitely plays the "who did this to you" card because he's so dramatic

you pray that your husband is asleep as you open your door as quietly as humanly possible, tiptoeing inside your home. it doesn't help that your dominant hand is in a sling, but somehow, you manage to make it to the bedroom without waking elliott up.

just as you think you'll make it into bed successfully, he shifts, eyes fluttering open.

"y/n? did you just get back?"

he reaches over to turn on the lamp.

"wait—!"

"what in the world."

you let out a sigh of defeat as elliott's eyes turn into saucers, his mouth agape as he looks at your injury. as much as you adore your partner and everything he stands for, you know how dramatic he tends to be, especially when it comes to you.

"elliott, please, i promise it's nothing," you try, but he slowly gets out of bed and makes his way across the room to you. "seriously, i'm fine!"

"darling," he starts, his voice scarily quiet as he lightly grabs your shoulders, "who did this to you?"

"what?" you want to laugh, but you also want to see how far he's willing to take this. "what are you talking about?"

finally, emotion fills his eyes as he begins to scan your body for other wounds, acting as if you just came back from fighting a war.

"was it a monster in the mines? were you snuck up on? or worse," he gasps, "was it a person? was my darling attacked by our own kind? tell me, dear, say the word and i'll track them down to the ends of this earth!"

you can hardly take him seriously in his plaid pajamas, but you also feel so lucky to have someone care about you to this extent. emotional tears are even welling in elliott's eyes as he gently pulls you to his chest, holding you as close as he possibly can.

"i don't know what i would do if you were wounded severely, love," he says, kissing the top of your head. he pulls back to look at you deeply in the eyes, suddenly serious. "now, tell me. who, or what, did this?"

"a fishing rod."

". . . what?"

"i strained my shoulder pretty bad while fishing, so harvey said i should wear this sling for a week until it gets a bit better."

"ah, i see." elliott nods, avoiding your gaze as you laugh. "well, that doesn't mean my darling shouldn't be spoiled!"

you let out a cry of amusement as he sweeps you off your feet, laying you gently down in bed and placing the blanket over you snugly. he turns the lamp off before joining you, laying on his side so he can pull you to his chest.

"that was a bit dramatic, wasn't it?" he whispers.

"not at all."

harvey

worried out of his mind

you’re the last person he ever wants to see in his clinic

will absolutely overplay your injury unless you stop him

(though it is nice to be doted on)

"hey, harvey."

you watch as harvey's head shoots up in surprise, knowing that he isn't expecting you this early. typically you would do some work throughout the day before stopping by around lunch to see him, but the clock had just about hit noon. you had decided to take an early trip to the mines as your lovely husband promised to take over your farm chores for the morning — though, thinking back on it, maybe you should have just slept in.

"are you back from the mines already, dear?" he asks, turning to look at you. "that was quick—" he stops in his tracks.

you look at him sheepishly, wincing as you tighten your grip around the cloth wrapped around your injured arm. a hint of blood seeps through it, and you can practically see harvey pale.

"listen," you start, "before you freak out, it's not that—"

"sit, i need to take a look at it right now," he orders, urgency filling his voice. you sigh as he grabs your hand and leads you to the examination table. "how did this even happen? you're usually more careful than this," he scolds, slowly beginning to unwrap the cloth as you do your best to explain.

"i took the elevator pretty far down the mines this morning," you explain, biting your lip in pain as the makeshift bandage fully comes undone. "there were a few monsters i had trouble dealing with. i guess this is what happens when i skip out on my morning coffee."

harvey frowns, shaking his head. "now is not the time for jokes." he shakes his head, gently taking your arm in his hands and looking at your wound. "what if it had been worse? what if you couldn't make it back up, and got trapped? or, worse, what if you got an infection?" he pauses, and you can see all the scenarios running through his head. "then we'd have to transport you to the city's hospital, i'm nowhere near equipped enough to handle that. should i be ordering more supplies?" his eyes widen, his hand hovering over his lips as he continues to ramble on about different ways your story could have ended. he doesn't even notice the exasperated look you're giving him.

"and then i'd have to take over the farm, at least for a while—"

"harvey," you laugh, grabbing his shoulders. he snaps out of his daze, his eyes meeting yours once again. your heart melts at the worry that glazes them. "what matters is i'm here, right? so why don't you properly bandage me up and i'll stay here for a bit, just in case."

he clears his throat, a dust of red printing his cheeks as he nods. he turns to grab some disinfectant and a roll of bandages.

"right. good idea, honey. but, as your doctor," he adds, and you groan at his words, "i say you need to avoid the mines for the next week in order to heal properly, and no extensive farm work, either."

"seriously?" you grimace as he applies the disinfectant before thoroughly wrapping your wound. "who's going to take care of the crops and the animals, then?"

your heart skips a beat when harvey places a soft kiss on top of your bandages before hugging you to his chest. he rests his chin on the top of your head, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.

"your loving husband, of course."

shane

immediately begins to panic internally when he hears you're at harvey's clinic from emily

sounds angry, but his eyes deceive him — you know he's just worried

tries to act all tough, but he can't help being a bit more protective over you than usual

"what the hell were you thinking?" he questions sharply, barging into the clinic with no greeting. you stifle a laugh at his appearance — from the looks of it, he had just woken up from a nap, his hair touseled and jacket half thrown on. "why didn't you come get me?"

"i told emily to let you know, since i was a little busy trying not to pass out," you joke, but you quickly realize your mistake when he all but shoves harvey out of the way to give you a look over. "shane, i was kidding—"

"how hurt are they?" he demands, his attention turning to harvey. "do they need time to recover? should i do anything?"

the doctor raises an amused brow before replying, "don't worry, the cut on their leg didn't even need stitches. the wounds should be completely healed within a few days. y/n," he turns to you, a kind smile on his face as he takes off his stethoscope, "take it a bit easy for now, alright? at least until your leg is completely better."

"thanks, doc." as you move to stand, you're shocked as shane wraps an arm around you, helping you get on your feet. "what are you . . . ?"

he doesn't meet your eyes. instead, he guides you to the door, a frown imprinted on his face. you hear maru hold back a gasp at the scenario in front of her. harvey nudges her to stay quiet, though it's clear the two are more than amused at the situation at hand.

"didn't you hear him? you need to take it easy," he snaps, and you can see him starting to blush.

"shane," you start, the two of you making your way through the plaza, "you hate PDA." yet, his arm is still wrapped tightly around you as he guides you towards the farm.

"shut up," he grumbles, pulling you closer to his side. "it doesn't count if it's doctor's orders."

you laugh, leaning into his side. you like the change of pace, it's refreshing — not that he'll ever admit this ever happened.

"well, maybe i should get hurt more often, then."

"don't even think about it."

-

lmk if you guys want more !

[animehideout]

So you did the JJK guys turn ons. What about their turn offs?

JJK Men Turn-Offs

a/n: Thank you anon for this request, I hope you like it ❤️

Ps: If you don't see your request posted yet it's because I'm still working on them, thank you for your understanding my loves 🫶🏻✨

Characters: Gojo Satoru / Ryomen Sukuna/ Toji Fushiguro/ Nanami Kento/ Geto Suguru/ Choso Kamo / Ino Takuma.

Check out JJK Men Turn-ons here

Gojo Satoru: Poor Hygiene.

I see Gojo as someone who gives attention to details, to himself, his partner and in general.

He's someone that values aesthetics.

He's into self-care and likes to spend money on expensive body lotions, perfumes, nice and elegant clothes.

So poor hygiene is an immediate red flag for him, as it contradicts his preferences for cleanliness and order.

Satoru takes pride in his appearance and expects the same from people around him especially his partner.

So a partner lacking efforts in matching his level of cleanliness and appearance is a turn off for him especially with the importance he places on the way he presents himself.

Satoru believes that taking care of oneself is a form of respect for others, so for him, lack of hygiene is considered as lack consideration.

Poor hygiene disappoints him a lot and would definitely distance himself.

Ryomen Sukuna: Inability to satisfy his sexual desires.

Driven by his desires and lust, once his partner screws up, it's over.

He has a dominant and assertive nature, wanting everything to go as he wishes.

He has high expectations and puts big emphasis on his sex life.

So his partner's / love interest's inability to satisfy his desires or refuse to do some wild crazy shit that he wants, would frustrate him and make him angry.

Sukuna won't disappoint his partner, he's literally the best at sexually pleasing them, so it's crucial that he's equally pleased and satisfied.

If his partner fails to fulfill his needs then it might trigger his impatience, making him less tolerant.

He places big importance on mutual enjoyment, if he senses any imbalance, then he's end the relationship without hesitation.

Toji Fushiguro: Being A Drama Queen.

Toji is a straightforward and rational man.

He values smartness and efficiency, so making excessive drama or overreactions is a major turn-off for him.

He prefers logical thinking and conflicts solving over unnecessary emotional displays .

Toji is a prudent man and sees easily through dramatic actions or words any attempted manipulation from his partner.

He prefers a partner who can handle their emotions maturely and independently without causing a fuss.

Constant drama might make him feel bored or like he's dealing with a child and not a grown up adult.

For him exaggerated reactions, nagging are a waste of time, a headache stimulator and get on his nerves.

He prefers a chill, simple and laid back partner.

Would definitely distance himself without further engaging in the the relationship/ situationship.

Would feel second hand embarrassed if his partner makes a scene.

Nanami Kento: Arrogance.

There's a difference between being self-confident and being arrogant.

The first one is a turn-on for Nanami, the second one is an immediate turn-off.

That line that separates them "attitude" makes a huge shift in the way he perceive his partner.

He finds arrogance off-putting.

He prefers a partner who is grounded and modest; traits that align with his own reserved nature.

Being an introverted man, Nanami tends to communicate in a calm and polite manner, with an arrogant partner the balance of his communication style would be disrupted.

An arrogant partner would talk down to him, which is very demeaning.

Politeness and mutual respect are necessary for Nanami, and arrogance can come across as dismissive, he finds that unappealing.

Nanami wants a genuine connection with his partner, where both of them are sincere, caring and responsible.

And arrogance brings with it selfishness and this doesn't align with how he pictures a stable, romantic relationship with a calm and harmonious environment.

Geto Suguru: Lack Of Ambitions And Negativity.

For a man with very big dreams, lack of ambitions is pathetic.

He wants a partner to push him forward and not bring him down with their negativity.

Geto believes in constant striving for improvement and excellence, so having a partner with no dreams would definitely get into his way and waste his time.

He pities people who are too basic and too simple and sees them as weak and burden in earth.

For him only people who are willing to make an impact on society are worth living but the purposeless ones are just a waste of oxygen.

The lack of purpose means lack of personality for him, it would make him instantly disconnected and disgusted no matter how much he would be physically attracted to that person.

Geto envisions a romantic relationship as a collaboration towards achieving mutual common goals.

So lack of ambitions and negativity would hinder the formation of thus goal-oriented relationship.

If a person isn't willing to change, push boundaries and challenge themselves, then Suguru wouldn't even bother to spend another second with them.

Choso Kamo: Talking To Other Guys.

Choso is a loyal man with a protective nature.

He prefers quality over quantity, having a loyal partner would mean the whole world to him.

A partner who engages in unnecessary or flirty conversations with other man ( even at the beginning of the relationship) would definitely make him really sad and turn him off at the spot.

Choso appreciates a reserved partner who only has eyes on him, so a gf/bf who likes to be the center of attention of other guys and constantly talk with them would make him break up with them to protect his heart and peace.

Choso wants undivided attention, he is willing to give the world to his partner, cut off all unnecessary connections if his partner feels jealous or uncomfortable and he wants the same.

Trust is crucial for Choso, and once his partner breaks that trust then it's over.

Ino Takuma: Dry Replies.

Ino is a man who thrives on his partner's affection and attention.

So dry replies would definitely make him sad and question hus partner's feelings towards him.

Ino likes to engage in lively conversations that flow effortlessly, from sharing how was his day to his plans for tomorrow.

So being constantly faced with replies that lack enthusiasm or effort are huge turn-off for him.

He puts too much effort in the relationship so he expects the same from his partner.

Ino appreciates a partner who expresses themselves openly, and also good listener who is willing to comfort him and tell him thay everything is gonna be alright.

And receiving cold replies would disappoint him and push him away, making him think that his partner is careless about him.

Also when sharing memes. Humor is important to Ino, so dry and dull answers would make him feel embarrassed and awkward.

He cares too much, he deserves someone who would give him the attention and care he needs.

So distancing himself from a dry partner would save him his energy and save him from overthinking.

[lis-likes-fics]

Dramatic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x adhd!bau!Reader Word Count: 2.9k words Warnings: Social anxiety, character with ADHD, crying, emotional hurt/comfort... A/N: I embarrassed myself a little bit and that day will haunt me forever. Enjoy!

Spencer slows as he comes up on your desk. He furrows his brows and looks around, noting your absence with a confused look on his face. Closing his book in his hand, he shifts it under his arm and turns to Emily opposite your empty seat.

Before he can even finish his inhale, she's already speaking. “Last time I saw her, she had to go print something out.”

“When was that?”

Emily looks away from the bright light of her screen in favor of checking her watch. “About fifteen minutes ago?” She shrugs, “I assume she got caught up with something.”

She spins around in her chair in a rather dramatic manner, turning to face JJ in the desk behind her. “You seen my desk buddy anywhere?”

“Printer.” She doesn't even look up.

“That's what I said.”

JJ hums a little. “She probably just got distracted.” She looks over her shoulder at Spencer for the first time, though not for long. “I'd check the printer.”

With a spark of genius, Emily's brows lift as she turns back to her screen. “If she's not there, she could be with Garcia.”

JJ just points her finger over at Emily and hums, still lounging back in her chair as her focus glares at whatever she's filling out at her computer.

“Thanks, guys.” Spencer sets his book down on your desk, turning on his heel to find the printing room where you have supposedly been hanging out for the past fifteen minutes.

He doesn't know what would keep you that long. You're not social enough to have gotten caught up talking, and your distractions are so easy as to keep you from returning to your desk (especially not when Emily is there to keep you company).

Plus, you hate the printing room. The printers are practically always running, and there's this weird clacking noise from one of the machines that unnerves you every time you have the misfortune of having to listen to it.

As he expects, you're not there. There's one guy standing in front of one of the printers, beating his hand on the side to get it to work. Other than that, however, you're nowhere to be found and Spencer is starting to worry.

Realistically, he knows that he shouldn't. You're in a building surrounded by FBI agents, and you're smart enough to know exactly how to tip someone off if you're in trouble. You're so smart, you'd realize there was danger long before it actually hit (because you pay too much attention to little details and sometimes forget about the more obvious things in front of you). He's lucky enough that any UnSub striking the FBI is likely too intelligent not to be meticulous.

But anyway, it doesn't matter because you're not in danger, and maybe you're just with Penelope or using the bathroom or (not in the break room, he already checked) or even–

Shoot.

“Hi.”

Penelope’s door was open, so he let himself in with a gentle knock on the door. Derek is there. He's leaning against one of her desks as she works. They're talking about something Spencer suspects to be too suggestive for his interest.

“Oh!” Penelope turns around in her seat with so much enthusiasm. She almost seems amazed as she looks upon him. “Spencer Reid, coming to visit me. Hello! How are you, my little knick knack?”

Derek chuckles, gesturing for him to join the two with a charming smile.

“I'm good,” he says. He asks about you.

Penelope’s brows join together as she shakes her head. “Oh, I don't know,” she answers matter-of-factly. “I have not seen her. Why? Is she okay?” Her worry creates a crease at her brows that deepens with every second that her question is unanswered.

“You lost your girl, pretty boy?” Derek gently nudges Spencer's shoulder.

“Not lost, just…” he shrugs, “misplaced.”

He hums. “She hasn't come by, no. Last time I saw her was early in the break room with you.”

Spencer scratches the back of his neck. Sorting through his mind about all the places you could be. If you left the building, you would've told someone, so you're definitely still here. You don't have any meetings either, so he's genuinely confused as to where you could possibly be hiding.

“I was hoping I'd find her here.”

Penelope raises a suggestive hand. “Well, I can look on the cameras, if you want.” She wheels around in her chair. She's already tapping away on her keyboard with a loud clickity-clack. “I'm sure we can find her somewhere in here.”

“When did you last see her?” Derek asks.

“I saw her at her desk twenty one minutes and thirty-seven seconds ago, but Emily said she went to the printing room about fifteen minutes ago.”

Penelope mutters to herself as she types in her perimeters. “Okay. Printers, fifteen minutes. And…” She clicks her tongue. “There she is!”

Spencer feels a wave of relief at seeing you standing by one of the machines. You're popping your knuckles, staring dutifully at the printer like you're determined to grab them and go.

“Okay, waiting on papers. Let's fast forward a bit, and then…” Penelope’s as fast as the cameras as she watches you leave the room with your stack clutched to your chest. Your gaze is following your feet, which are taking you down the halls and in the wrong direction of your desk.

When you turn into a room, all of them are a little confused. Derek most of all. “My office?” He turns to Spencer with a furrowed brow. “What's she doin’ in my office?”

“Cameras don't show her leaving. She should still be in there right now.” Penelope adjusts her glasses on her nose, turning back around.

“That’s odd,” he mumbles. “Thank you, Garcia.”

Spencer's already locked into his task when he turns around without another word. Derek calls him, interrupting his alertness.

“Whatever you do,” he tilts his head like he's warning him, his eyes narrowed playfully as he smirks, “keep it PG in my office, okay?”

Spencer almost blushes at the notion. Penelope smacks him square in his chest, looking up like he's scolding Derek for his behavior. But he only raises his hands high in surrender. “Hey! Mama, I'm just jokin’,” he laughs, his face split into one of his charming smiles. “I'm playin’!”

Spencer purses his lips in that dorky way that you always say you love. He excuses himself in favor of finding you. The path to Derek's office is an easy and familiar path. He ends up opening the door not long after.

He doesn't see you.

Spencer's eyes sweep the office once more and find Derek's chair further away from his desk than it's meant to be—that is, if he pushed it in properly to begin with.

With a gentle sigh, he takes slow, quiet steps to round the large desk. He kneels when he gets to the other side, feeling the worry dissolve and take another shape all within the same second.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice is so soft, this quiet little whisper that doesn't stir you too much.

You have your arms wrapped around your knees, your face buried away within them. You don't move, and you don't seem to be crying, so at least that isn't an issue. Your voice is muffled by your arms.

“Hi.” You don't look up. “How’d you find me?” you mutter, still not moving from your position.

“Penelope.”

You sigh, finally lifting your head. “Penny.” He almost laughs at the way you say it, like you're accusing her of a crime.

“Can I join you?” he asks gently.

You nod without a word. Spencer moves to sit across from you. He's so long, it takes quite a bit of maneuvering to fit himself into the small space. He's slouched over like some real life origami. His legs have no choice but to reach all the way over into your space and box you in with him. You don't mind much.

He lets you both sit in silence for a while. You seem to really need it. He doesn't decide to speak until you finally look at his face, your eyes flitting across it like you're trying to find something.

“What's wrong?”

You shake your head, looking away again. It breaks his heart to watch the way you huddle into yourself. “It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid,” he protests kindly. He reaches a hand out to cradle the back of your leg. His hand is warm, it feels good even through the fabric of your slacks. “Not if it's making you feel like this.”

You don't respond. Spencer's mouth twitches to the side. He taps your leg lightly. “What happened?”

You sigh, taking a moment before you lift your head to see him again. There's a tiny crease in his brows. His eyes are narrowed just a bit. He's genuinely concerned, and it makes you feel bad because the reason you're upset is so…trivial.

“We deal with death every day, and most of the time, I come out of it okay,” you say under your breath, shaking your head at yourself, “but this is what gets me.”

“What's ‘this’?” he presses gently.

You lick your bottom lip and speak slowly. “I went to print some papers, and this lady walked up and waved at me, so I waved back at her and…”

He thinks he knows where this is going. “Yeah?”

There’s an element of self-depreciation when you respond, and your words from earlier echo sadly in his head at the thought that you might be hearing it, too—it’s stupid. “Well, it turns out, she’s not even waving at me. She’s waving to this other lady standing next to me.” You shake your head, looking down as if to remember something. “And she kinda, like…gave me this look.”

“Was it a mean one?” He hopes not. He loves you too much for someone to be giving you mean looks. He wants you to feel safe and happy, and you don’t.

You shake your head. “No, she looked…maybe a little confused or even, like…apologetic, but it was a look.” He watches you bury your head again, hiding away in your embarrassment. “I should not be hiding because of a look.”

Spencer sets a reassuring hand on your knee. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed about something like that.”

When you lift your head again, he can see tears you’d tried so hard to keep back shining in your eyes. His heartstrings tug behind his ribcage. He thinks you’re gonna kill him one day. “I know!” you sniffle, refusing to let any of your tears spill. “I know, but I do, and it’s ridiculous.”

“But…” he says, like he isn’t finished, “it’s also perfectly okay to be embarrassed about something like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and looking to the side again. “Please.” A tear spills over, and you catch it quickly. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard. He’s worried you’ll draw blood. “I overreact or underreact to literally everything. When are my feelings ever reasonable?”

He would scoot closer if his body structure allowed it, but, alas, he is too long. “All the time. They never stop being reasonable,” he reassures. He sighs gently, wanting so badly to make sure you know how much he adores you. “Can I hold your hand?”

You look back at him, swallowing thickly as you slowly raise your hand for him to take. It means a lot, actually, that he wants to hold your hand. Too many germs. Your chest feels warm with your adoration of him. He gives you a smile, and you almost hide for a different reason.

Holding his eye contact is so hard sometimes. He has such pretty eyes, it’s a shame how hard it is to look at them when you get like this. You want to kiss him, to let him know.

Instead, you just squeeze his hand. “She probably already forgot it happened.” You chew on your bottom lip. “And I’ve been hiding under Derek’s desk for the past, like, ten minutes because I can’t forget about it.”

Spencer doesn’t want to tell you that it’s been twelve minutes and sixteen seconds. You hide your face once again more, dramatically this time. “This will haunt me forever.”

His lip quirks but he tries not to smile too much. “Hey.”

“I know. It’s childish.”

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” he smiles. He ducks his head in the hopes of catching your eyes, but he waits for you to look up first. “You know what I’m going to say?”

You do look at him. He’s so sweet, now you can’t look away. “What?”

He leans forward, feeling his back spine stretching as he does. His large hand sets against your cheek, and you lean into the warmth. He gives you a smile that you call charming, though he probably wouldn’t agree. “I love you.”

You can’t help it. The way he makes you feel is reminiscent of a teenager who just shared eye contact with her crush. He wipes your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, clearing away any water left behind by the few tears that had escaped your clutches. “Stop,” you giggle, turning away.

He guides your face back. His grin is this huge, mushy thing on his face that squints his eyes until his lashes kiss. “Never,” he mutters affectionately. He loves to see you smile. “I love you. Especially when you care a little too much about an accidental wave.”

You catch him in his words, raising your brows accusingly. He’s helping your anxiety tremendously, and you probably won’t realize it until you’ve fully recovered. “So you agree that this is stupid?”

He laughs, shaking his head quickly. His voice, not as soft anymore, is filled to the brim with his happiness “That’s not what I said. I’m saying that I love you because you’re so amazing, and I want you to know it.” He traces the underside of your eyelashes, reluctantly slipping his hand off your cheek. “No matter how many times you wave at someone who isn’t actually waving at you.”

You’re still giggly. “Spencer.” You shift your legs, not without difficulty, to sit in a criss-cross position. Spencer mimics you (with even more difficulty than you). He has to bend down a little so he’ll fit.

“It’s the truth.”

“Well…” you try to dull your giggles to a simmering bubbly feeling in your chest, “I love you, too. Even when I think you’re crazy for loving me…” You think about that for a moment. “Especially when I think you’re crazy for loving me.”

Spencer holds your cheek again and pulls you in for a kiss. You savor this one, your noses brushing affectionately as you do. Spencer doesn’t kiss you at work.

“Will you come back to your desk with me?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours.

You nod gently. “Yeah.”

Spencer smiles, pecking your cheek. He lets go of you to untuck himself from under the desk. He has to stretch his body out before he offers his hand for you. You take it, hoisting yourself up to stand next to him. “Those are mine.” You gesture toward the papers on Derek’s desk as you brush off your pants.

He doesn’t wait for you, he just scoops them into his hands. “I’ve got them.”

“Thanks,” you grin. He sneaks one more kiss, this one to your temple.

You look up at him and hold your arms open, a quiet request. Spencer’s happy to answer your request, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that pulls you closer to him than you feel like you’ve ever been. He takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and sighing longingly.

When you pull away, you walk with him. His hand hangs down by his side, and you glance at it as you brush your pinky with his. He smiles, but he doesn’t look over at you.

It’s been hardly ten seconds since you left the office, and your phone is ringing. You furrow your brow, fishing it from your pocket and glancing down at the screen. You sigh gently, silently appreciating her because she means so much.

You put her on speaker. “Penny?”

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” she asks immediately, her voice full of worry. You glance at Spencer, who still doesn’t turn to you. He’s smiling, though, so you know that he knows you’re watching him.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” she asks. “I can go to you. I’ll bring the squishy that you like!”

Your voice fades into a laugh. “I’m okay, Pen, really.”

“Did my desk help?”

The way Derek’s voice sounds when he speaks up makes you flush a little. You keep your voice level, still looking up to stare at Spencer. You trust him not to let you run into anything as he suppresses his smile with the thin line of his lips. “Yes, Morgan, it was very nice.” You raise a brow. “Am I going to hear Prentiss next?”

He laughs. “Just li’l ole me.”

“And me. I’m still here.” Penelope makes you laugh.

“Goodbye, both of you.”

“Bye, honey bun.” “Bye!” You hang up on them.

Spencer’s warmth seeps into your side. You resist the urge to lay your head on his shoulder because you’re supposed to be professional at work. Instead, you sigh and let your pinkies brush. “I love our friends.”

Spencer smiles. “Me, too.”

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic @princess76179 @hc-geralt-23 Dr. Reid taglist: @swwanlake Tag yourself here...

[shuenkio]

Rewrite the stars | PJ.s 🍂

Paring: Jay x Male!reader | Genre: Angst but fluff.

Synopsis: the man who once broke your heart, decided that he will make a change between you and him, to form the love once again.

Cw: nothing just two exes getting back together.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A-N: This was way back in June so it's a bit 🤏 cringe and many dramatic scene you'd discover, again I'm still develop how to express character emotion:> .

Years of dating with Jay crumbled in a blink of an eye when m/n saw him with a girl on a date with his gift that m/n gave him during his birthday. M/N calmed down, trying to process what's truly happening. We can't judge a book by its cover, but the moment M/N saw Jay press a soft kiss on the girl's cheek, it's over.

There's no explanation for this. M/N's tears break down unconditionally; he wants to go there and scream at Jay's face and ask why he would do such a thing to his boyfriend here. That's the ugliest memory you had of him. Nevertheless, since I love him very much, he can't seem to let him go.

Not because of his wealthy status; it's because he loves him so much from the bottom of his heart that he swears he would do anything for Jay. However, Jay had asked M/N to break up with him, and with no more heart in those eyes that once used to be, the adorable expression he made just for you when he talked about his day is no longer in this broken relationship.

Begging for him to stay would just make you pathetic and blinded by love. When m/n has decided he has to let him go, the person who's once been the love of his life is now leaving for their own good. Are all of the memories and promises nothing to Jay? The question seemed unspoken without an answer, clenching in his chest painfully in sorrow, along with the hurtful words that haunted your sleep every single day.

"Let's break up"

—5 years later, after  M/n graduated and found his true passion with his dream job. He was no longer stressing about nonsense; he got everything at the age of 25: money, a car, a house, importantly, a job. chapter of his life wherein he can get whatever he wishes for. I worked as a designer, making tons of exquisite and high-quality collections of luxurious clothes and dresses that hit the market every single time they were launched.

His name soon became the hot topic in society; not only did he walk with the trend, he was also loved by everyone with his relatability and kindness. Moreover, during the week, while he was spending his time at the spa, M/N got a call from his manager saying that there'll be a new member of a top-tier design team who wishes to work with you, especially as one of the co-workers. This was not new, nor is it difficult to handle, but what was coming for you was a blind spot.

The time has come; M/N is now in a meeting room, waiting for the new guy who is eager to work with him so much. He wonders who it could be, as a top-tier designer in this city will make an appearance in front of you at any moment soon. The glass door was opened by a pair of hands, and his manager came in with the taller man behind in his black suit. Everyone in the room stood up as a sign of respect except M/N.

He was so lost in thought at the new face behind his manager. He is quite familiar. M/N refuses to care if he's scolded by the supervisor, yet who cares? The whole group settled down in their own seats, and due to M/N sitting across from the table, he began to focus on the meeting instead of giving his attention to that guy.

"Everybody, Meet Jay Park! He will be working with us from now on, as a designer, of course, just like our gem, M/N. Haha, and it looks like this gentleman is here. I look forward to working with you. How do you like that m/n? " It was horrible the unrequited attention on you was your least favorite thing you thought would never happen; the uncomfortable shift in your seat explained everything.

"Very well, Mr. Park. So then, since I've already seen him, I'll take my leave. Please excuse  me." Once m/n knew who he was, he spared no time before leaving the place immediately. A glance on Jay's face, flashing back all of those nightmares once again. I don't know if it's because of work or something else, but deep down, a part of him said Jay is probably planning to take you back. How annoying.

Ever since the first meeting, of working together with your ex, M/N got nothing but troubling. Whenever Jay had time alone with M/N, he would always bring up the past topic all over again. He was truly sorry for his actions—for hurting you and for cheating on you with another girl. Jay swears he would wear his skin to the bone just for you to accept him once again.

However, it was such a bad move. Due to how much popularity M/N had, there's some reason you thought he would come back for you just because you had fame. Along with the sudden request to get back together, what will happen if he's going to cheat and repeat all the events once again? A busy day ended with the finished touch of your creation. M/N didn't know how long he had been standing here in the studio. All the sections are in pitch black except him. Employees have all gone back to their own homes. Prepared for you stuff to head home after a long day, a fade of voice fills the room from behind. Well, it was loud and clear to recognize.

"M/n i... Aren't you supposed to go home yet?" He paused, dipping his hands into his pocket.

"I'm about to. It's getting late; you should too," m/n implied with no enthusiasm for a small talk.

"Look, um, I know it's hard for you, but please hear me out." Jay's words seem so desperate; the low tone in his voice gives me chills. From the head to the bottom, not gonna lie, it's true he's a total mess. The bags under those eyes were visible on his face, and the lip was dry like he hadn't drunk any water. Is he going to make you pity him? No? At least you give him a chance to talk.

"If you talk about our relationship again, you should stop. I have nothing for those past  memories."

"I’m so sorry... I never should have hurt you. I'd let you go. But every day without you is like living in a world with no sun—cold, empty, and endless. I was wrong to think I could burn on my own and that I didn’t need you. Without you, I’m just ashes. Please, I can’t keep pretending I’m okay. I’m losing pieces of myself every day. Give us another chance—I need you more than words can say" He whispered, his voice thick with regret. His hands trembled as he reached out, but he hesitated. Still respect your boundaries and keep the space between them. M/N stood there, stunned.

His chest tightened, and he could feel the lump forming in his throat, making it impossible to speak. Memories flashed through his mind—the laughter, the nights spent together, all the moments they shared. Tears began to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He tried to hold them back, but they spilled over, one after the other. His hands shook, and he felt completely lost, unable to do anything but let the tears fall.

Unable to hide his own weakness, he covers his own face with the pair of his palms, breaking down on the spot as his knees feel weaker than ever. Why should you cry over someone who once broke your heart, someone who left you in the middle of the ocean with no shore at all yet? Till today, he was crawling back, begging for forgiveness, swearing he'd never done it ever again.

Isn't that two times more painful than before? Should you accept him back or not? Or are you scared of getting stabbed again? His heart sank as M/N started crying. Seeing him so broken made Jay's chest tighten with guilt and sadness. Jay can't contain himself to stand while watching you in this state; he was the one who caused this after all.

Unexpectedly, you were surprised to see him wrap his hand around you before pulling you into a tight hug. Listening to your sobbing was enough for him to bury himself alive in the graveyard. He wanted to wash all his sins away for having wounded you; if he could go back in time, he'd sacrifice anything just to keep you close

once again.

"Let's rewrite our story hm ? I'll be a better man from now on. I promise there'll be fewer tears in your eyes, pretty. I'll love you till the day that i die " 

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ dividers: Thecutestgrotto and crd to all the pic owner..

Thanks for this pookie 😽❤️ IWALY!!!!

[jokin-around]

I made a Twitter thread about this, but I've been reading early issues of Batman lately and something I've noticed is how differently the contrast between Batman and "Bruce Wayne" is depicted

obviously, in many things today, "Bruce" (ESPECIALLY in fandom) is often depicted as a happy-go-lucky himbo in order to draw contrast with a grim and "tortured" batman

so how does this hold up when you look at older depictions? the answer: it doesn't. in fact it was almost the opposite.

way back in the very first issues of the official Batman title, Bruce Wayne, no matter WHAT he's doing, isn't the one who laughs and smiles, Batman is.

and these are comics that were published BEFORE the comics code authority caused a dramatic shift in tone

Bruce Wayne (or least the cardboard cutout refered to as Bruce Wayne) isn't nessecarily described as grim, but he isn't a very happy person either, he's still a rich airhead, but not so much a "himbo" or even a dedicated businessman, he's depicted as a BORED, uninterested, aristocrat:

this Bruce seems to spend of his time smoking a pipe at home or mingling with other upperclass individuals, that in-between we tend to see MUCH more often in modern comics doesn't seem to exist yet (in part because the batcave Is non-existent which I suspect has given him a bit more privacy as a character)

MEANWHILE Batman, who's investigates murders every other night almost seems to be having the time of his life:

the early comics seem to routinely depict the burgoise as cold, snobbish & bored, in contrast to batman who seems particularly expressive and joyful, for all we know Batman may partially exist as some millionaires weird passtime, but of course Bruce Wayne (the real guy, not the facade) is written as someone who genuinely seems to care due to his own past experiences:

but , with all of that layed out, one can conclude that when ppl say Batman is the "true persona" ect. originally, it wasn't (just) because of his coping or whatever it was because when he wasn't Batman he was forced to live life as a cold, "useless" millionaire:

"what if a rich a guy gave a fuck?" is still very much the base concept here, but what's surprising is how much BITE there is to it

the concept wasn't being proposed because it's like… a plausible thing to happen or attainable on a personal level, but because the rich reliably and consitently do not care

the rich ppl in this book, "Bruce Wayne" included, are not written to be envied as people. they're written to be insufferable. ppl with endless resources who are still somehow unsatisfied with life and choose to do nothing useful or direct with the amount wealth they've accumulated

but ofc it shouldn't be ALL THAT surprising, Batman debuted in Detective Comics in 1939…. ONE year after the great depression, Bob and Bill had more than a good reason to feel a bit bitter

but rolling back to the point of this analysis, whenever I say "let batman be happy" I mean "let Batman enjoy his job" despite the pain, despite the death, despite the murder, despite the hypocritical nature of it all and how problematic it may be because it's a life he also chooses, not just out of compulsion, but because it's hands on, direct & purposeful. it gives him something to do & it gives him a chance to punch a problem in the face (which may be good or bad depending on what that problem is, but still)

that kind of depiction is what set up the groundwork for nearly every deconstruction that's come since but it's so buried in time at this point that lines from characters claiming bruce "loves being batman" seem to ring completely hollow

tbh, I think the old way of depicting Batman can be ( and as been in some media) woven into the way he's depicted today, in the past Batman was an outlet for every emotion Bruce Wayne had to hide elsewhere, a symbol of empathy, fury and passion, for modern Batman, I imagine those three things still hold true, layered on top of an alter ego that allows a modern Bruce Wayne to be weird and damaged and dark.

so uh, ln conclusion, I think batman enjoying what he does to a certain extent is a crucial aspect of his character that's been lost and withered and forgotten about, let him a have a little fun, we can discuss the ramifications of all that when discussion seems necessary

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "I'll go to the next Heaven meeting only if I get to be your un-filter."

Charlie: "My un-filter?"

Vaggie: "Your anger concentrate."

Charlie: "I'm not angry!"

Vaggie: "Sweetie."

Charlie: "Well SAYING I'm angry won't make anything better SO-"

Vaggie: "It'd make me feel better."

Charlie: ".... you won't threaten to kill anyone."

Vaggie: "Literally? No."

Charlie: "You won't bring your spear?"

Vaggie: "Words will be my only weapon I promise."

Charlie: "And you'll sit right next to me and we'll pull our chairs close enough so we're touching and you'll hold my hand whenever I'm not making a dramatic gesture or holding up a sample drawing so I don't get up and strangle anyone?"

Vaggie: "I'll be glued to your side."

Charlie: "Okay, then-"

Vaggie: "Like one of Niffty's petrified bug victims who slowly starved to death on a adhesive strip just out of reach of food and water-"

Charlie: "UM."

Vaggie: "-sorry, still mentally scarred from that."

Vaggie: "I'll be glue to you like, uh, frosting on a... cupcake?"

Charlie: "Or you can just sit next to me as Vaggie, my partner." (hugs gf) "I like you best like that~"

Vaggie: "Well that's me always. My favorite place and thing to be, too."

Charlie: "Then this next meeting is going to go AMAZINGLY."

-the meeting-

Charlie: "-now! Seraphim Sera, regarding your choice to start the exterminations in the first place-"

Sera: "I-"

Vaggie: "This is all your fault, dumbass, and everyone knows it."

Charlie: "-despite you delegating the ACTUAL, um, fulfillment of your Hell population reduction quotas to Adam and his Exorcists, and your hands off approach to overseeing the management of said Exorcists, he WAS still acting under YOUR authority-"

Sera: "You-"

Vaggie: "There's blood on your heavenly hands, even if you're too much of a coward to ever see it there."

Charlie: "-considering the physical and emotional damage and SCARS that said actions left on at least ONE former Exorcist, introducing Vaggie as exhibit A-"

Sera: "This is hardly relevant to-"

Vaggie: "Talk about heaven being a lie huh? Not even an angel gets a trial before damnation."

Charlie: "-I, and my father, we would be strongly in favor of you PERSONALLY taking over direct leadership of the surviving Exorcists, rather than leaving them in the hands of Lute, who- while I'm sure she's very capable- WAS Adam's lieutenant, and often took initiative in his way of managing things."

Sera: "I have more than enough to do without adding-"

Vaggie: "Suck it up and take responsibility for shit for once instead of talking about how sad being in charge makes you. And maybe don't get more of your own people killed. Or mutilated. By Lute."

Charlie: "If you WERE to adopt this proactive shift in management style, Hell would be MUCH more comfortable negotiating with Heaven on the exact amount of damages and compensation owed to both sinners and winners for the emotional harm caused by your long term wrongful killing of countless potential citizens of Heaven, including their friends and loved ones!"

Sera: "Excuse me? Compensation-?"

Vaggie: "You fucked up. Heaven and Hell both hate you. We can give you some good PR, though, if you actually earn it."

Charlie: "Right now this is the only offer we can put on the table, all things considered, and especially when we're SO busy rebuilding and mourning our dead friends, so I really hope you take the time to consider it!!!"

Sera: "You cannot possibly be serious-"

Vaggie: "Try us, bitch."

Sera: "..."

Charlie: (turns to gf) "I love you."

Vaggie: (smiles) (lifts and smooches their entwined hands)

Sera: "........"

Emily: (applauds)

[redocity]

Hiii i love your writing!! Currently keeping me alive 😩 im begging for some angst hurt to comfort. Maybe something involving abby but ultimately a happy ending?

MOVING ON - E.BUCKLEY

buck was finally taking the step to move out of abby’s apartment, except it’s not exactly that easy.

WARNINGS: buck has a minor breakdown oops, minor abby slander, happy ending

buck x fem!reader II hurt/comfort Il 2.3k Il requests open!

a/n: thank you for the request! і love writing angsty stuff

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Buck had finally decided that he’d had enough.

He wasn’t going to wait for Abby to come home anymore. He needed to move on. It’d been almost five months since she’d left, and five months of the team trying to convince him she wasn’t coming back.

He’d given up trying to convince them all that their relationship was just ‘unconventional’ by now, and after a particularly lonely Friday night he decided it was time to make a move.

"Can you believe it? After five months? I’m finally moving out of her apartment." Buck lugs a half filled cardboard box over to the dining table, dropping it down with a thud.

“I’m proud’a you,” You tap his shoulder with your hand as an indication for him to move, laughing with a roll of your eyes. “Glad you actually got to this point,”

He makes no resistance to your silent instruction, shifting to lean his back against a clear area of the table and watching as you rifle through the box to properly organise his horrible packing job. "I know you were all sick of me moaning about her. I still can’t believe she just up and left me like that."

“It was definitely a dick move, but if we’re being honest here she didn’t deserve you anyway,” You wave off his unspoken apology for talking your ear off for the last few months with your hand.

“I just thought we were really something you know? Then she up and leaves out of nowhere,” Buck sighs. He was sick of her, he was sick of the fact she’d left him with nothing but a half-arsed explanation and an empty promise of them staying in touch.

But sometimes he can’t help but reminisce on how she used to make him feel and believe that maybe she really was going to come home. “She was supposed to be the one, I can’t believe I was so stupid."

“Unfortunately Buck,” You reach over the table to grab the packing tape, it making a harsh noise as you rip off a piece to tape the - now neatly organised - box. “That how real dating works,”

"No, this wasn’t ‘real’ dating. Real dating doesn’t involve her leaving after she said I could move in, she didn’t even say a real goodbye, I had to find out that she wasn’t coming back from an Instagram post of her kissing some random guy in Thailand." Buck’s voice plainly displayed his emotional exhaustion.

He didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, but it was just so hard to get her out of his head when he really thought that their relationship was going somewhere.

“Head up mister,” You tap your middle and index fingers against the underside of his chin with a sigh. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea,”

Buck laughed exasperatedly. He hated that quote, it always felt so insincere. Then again that was probably because he’s used it so many times in the past when turning down his previous hookups who wanted a more serious relationship.

Now he was on the other end of it, and it just felt ironic.

“You just don’t get it, we were a perfect match for each other,” Buck exhales dramatically, turning his head up to the ceiling. "She was beautiful. She was kind. She was smart. Our sex life was perfect, she was exactly who I was looking for but she left. She just up and left."

“It happens unfortunately,” You shrug your shoulders slightly. “Especially with someone who was dealing with so many personal issues like she was,” You give up on your organising for now as you entertain Buck’s want to get everything off his chest.

“Looks like you finally got a taste of your own medicine hey?” Your attempt at lightening the mood a little is met by a roll of Buck’s eyes and a sigh.

You had a point to an extent, he’d never really dealt with a real breakup before even though he’d been with plenty of other women. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone’s gotta experience heartbreak at some point, it’s part of your character development,” You mirror the way he’s leaning against the dining table yourself, pressing your lower back against the wood with your arms crossed.

"I don’t think I needed that character development," Buck sighed once again, "I wish I wasn’t experiencing it right now. I just wish she’d call me or even send me something, anything. Tell me she’s not coming back properly you know?"

He’d probably try to convince her into a long distance relationship if she did call him. But he wasn’t going to tell you that part. He was supposed to be moving on.

“I deleted her number from your phone so… she’s not going to,”

“You did what?” You could hear the immediate hurt in Buck’s tone at your confession, demonstrated further by the way his eyes turned to you in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, you are trying to physically move on,” You gesture towards the cardboard boxes that are littered around the apartment containing Buck’s belongings. “But you haven’t mentally moved on, you need both otherwise you’re gonna crash,”

Buck hated that you were right.

You were always right.

You always knew what was best for him when he didn’t even realise what was best for himself.

"I hate that all you do is say the right things at the right time."

“It’s a talent of mine,” You nudge him gently with a smile, again trying to lift up the mood a little.

Sometimes he hated that you were so kind too.

Some twisted part of him wished that you would do something wrong, that you would say the wrong thing and give him an excuse to let out all of his pent up frustration without feeling bad about it afterwards.

But you never did. And he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Then he started thinking about Abby again, of course he did. She was like a parasite that had burrowed a little cavity in his brain and wouldn’t leave no matter how many times he hit himself over the head.

He’d never had a truly vulnerable conversation with her when they were together. Not without the sole focus being on her or her mother’s health. He couldn’t remember a conversation that they’d had that was actually about his problems.

He couldn’t hate her for that. Of course not. She was going through a lot. But it really put into perspective who was the primary giver of their relationship. And it’s starting to make him question whether it was authentic in the first place.

Did she see it as a proper relationship like he did? Or was she using it as a distraction from all of the stress she had looking after her mother all the time?

He didn’t even realise he was tearing up until a drop of water hit the back of his hand.

“Are you alright?” You turned your head towards him after noticing how he’d gone quiet, his head lowered to a point where you couldn’t fully see the expression on his face.

“I don’t know-” His words said one thing, but the way he shook his head said something else. He was very clearly not okay.

“Buck…” You sigh softly at his tone, sounding a little forced as if he was scared of his voice breaking halfway through his sentence.

“Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked his question hesitantly, no longer trying to hide the wavering in his tone. He felt stupid for feeling like this over something that was seemingly so trivial to him in the past, but right now he didn’t feel like doing anything but crying until he physically couldn’t anymore.

He felt even stupider acting like this in front of you of all people. You’d dealt with enough of his baggage already, and he didn’t want to do to you what Abby had done to him in essentially using you as a human diary.

You don’t hesitate in your answer at all. “C’mere,”

You barely even open your arms before the space is filled by Buck, his head hidden against the shoulder of your t-shirt to hide his expression from you.

You lean your weight fully against the edge of the table as you envelop him into a hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back in your best attempt at physically soothing him as he lets out a soft cry into your shoulder.

A fully grown man crying into the arms of someone half his size because he couldn’t handle a breakup. Who would’ve thought?

The longer you held him the less he felt like he had to be embarrassed about it. Somebody had his back, and he didn’t ever want that to end.

“You’re gonna be alright,” The hand that wasn’t gently rubbing soothing lines over his back cupped the back of his neck, holding his head securely against your shoulder.

You knew he was going to break down eventually. You were just glad he had someone present during it.

"Thank you," Buck whispered to you as he began to calm down, "Thank you so much."

Embracing you felt like home, the first time in a long time that he’d felt like he had support. Like he could be himself.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go, and for the first time in a while he felt as if everything would be okay.

“Don’t mention it,” You make no move to pull away from the hug once he’s calm enough to speak to you again, content to wait until Buck was comfortable enough to pull away in his own time.

He didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Buck’s voice is muffled against your shoulder as he speaks, and he links his arms together behind your waist. “That would be nice,”

You laugh shortly at the question, your shoulders shaking slightly as you do and in turn jostling Buck slightly in your arms. “I think my legs would give out after a while, you’re heavy you know,”

"They’d get stronger eventually," Buck muttered, "We could work out together. I could train you."

Buck was enjoying this more than he wanted to admit but, as usual, his mouth spoke before his brain had a chance to control it. He was just glad that you hadn’t actually pulled away yet.

“You can’t train me to do anything if you won’t let go,”You continue to laugh softly at his proposition as your hand scratches gently at the hairs at nape of his neck.

“You can just hold me then,” He drops the idea almost immediately under the favour of staying securely in your arms.

He’d never hugged any of his friends like this before, although he supposes he’s never actually wanted to. But here he is nonetheless, and it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever been in his life.

He just wanted to stay in the little cocoon your arms provided him away from reality for the rest of his life, maybe longer than that. The only question was whether you’d entertain his idea of abandoning everything productive you were supposed to be doing so that he could satiate his desire to stay exactly where he was.

“Not standing up,” You shake your head against the side of his with a small chuckle. “My legs are already starting to hurt,”

“On the couch then? We can watch that movie you were talking about,”

“We still have packing to finish Buckley,”

“Tomorrow,” Buck shakes his head as he makes a move to separate himself from you, although not fully as his hands still lay carefully positioned on your sides. “I genuinely cannot do any more packing today,”

You raise an eyebrow at him and he tilts his head at you with a sigh. “Come on, humour me here I’m emotionally vulnerable,”

He slips one of his hands towards your wrist and gives it a small tug, his grip loose enough that if you wanted to pull your arm away from him you could do so with minimal effort. You don’t of course, allowing him to tug you forward until you’re not leaning against the table any more, your weight fully supported on your feet. “We can watch that movie, order a pizza and I can wallow in my emotions for a few hours until I’m mentally fit to continue packing,”

“Sounds like you’re just trying to procrastinate,” You furrow your eyebrows accusingly, but the smile on your face betrays your feigned scolding, just grateful that he was sound enough to joke about his own misery now that he’d actually had the chance to vent his emotions.

“Oh I definitely am,” Buck’s smile mirrors yours emphatically, and he starts towards the living room with your wrist in his hand so you’re ‘forced’ to follow him. “I hate packing, it’s boring and everyone always tells me I’m doing it wrong,”

[goodolddumbbanana]

Nexus to Moon: dramatic, mysterious, evil.

He is the monster. He forced me kneel, he hurts me, he makes me relived of all my mistakes. I couldn't fight him and the worst of it..... I. Scared. Of. Him.

Nexus to Sun: Bitch wants me to work for him and gets mad when I say no. Also... Cringe.

I am sorry but, has anyone felt a really drastically shift tones between Moon and Sun when they interact with Nexus?

Like Nexus really wants to hurt Moon, badly. He does not hesitate to cram his hands inside Moon's head, and mocks Moon for everything he did. It was intense, and we can feel it is Nexus the one who is in the control. And that Moon will not do or can try anything.

Also Moon gets kneel down and tortured pretty quick after that. Also he seems very scared of Nexus after each time he interacted with Nexus.

But Sun... I don't know man... I think I had made Nexus cooler in my head.

He is just so cringe. (THE GOD thingy makes me die a little bit whenever I hear him screaming that name)

I couldn't see the monster who hurt Moon with the way he was chasing Sun around and Sun just kept running like it is no ends tomorrow.

(Lmao dude just straight up pulling Naruto run on Nexus, really reminds me back then, of the times when Sun doing something stupid and Nexus just angrily yelling ran after him.)

And even when he had Sun at the corner, he couldn't say anything 'emotional damage' to Sun.

"What ... Are you insane?!"

"Yeah. I thought it was pretty obvious."

And baby girl is so obsessed with the fact he is no longer Moon, he thinks it is him who is still the one Sun calls for help. Which is sad and funny both at the same time.

Like we can feel a tiny small hesitant in Nexus's voice when Sun keeps saying 'Moon', like he thought Sun wants him to stop.

And how the issue gets dragged on the surface. Sun always feels like he couldn't help Nexus and Nexus also feels like he couldn't let Sun help him. (Because the same old story, Sun got hurt and kidnapped whenever he came with Nexus.)

"So now I have value for you?"

"Yeah, for once in your miserable life, you have value."

It is sad when they come back at each other like this. Especially when Nexus always says that he needs Sun back in the day.

"You had friends, you had a family. They love you."

Sun loves him. He still loves Nexus. He didn't want Nexus dead is one thing, but he seems so worried about Nexus (accidentally calling him Moon when seeing him got shot) and tries to make Monty stop shooting. Even after Nexus runway, Sun - the one who gets so infected by Negative Star power, still wants to know if Nexus is okay.

And when he was back at home, he wasn't even scared of Nexus, not like how he used to be terrified of Eclipse or Killcode or even when he interacts with Dark Sun. He seems just pissed and done at himself, and not even with Nexus.

"I didn't have friends. I was a replacement."

Nexus didn't consider Monty his friend. I mean it is totally understandable, especially when they hijacked his head before. But replacement... Really? Sure maybe at first with Sun, but what about Earth? She didn't know jack about you?

"Maybe at first, but I liked you."

Haha... Remember when Nexus said he was very appreciative of how Sun loved him more than Moon? Haha... Good times ...

"oh my..., cuz I was nicer to you."

"because you are nice."

"because I didn't beat you.... Guess what Sunny, you are nothing but a tool for me..."

He throws away any good things he did for Sun. He burned all their memories, and saw himself as a monster. He tried to make himself a monster towards Sun, and when seeing it didn't work, because Sun doesn't care about how horrible he is now, he straight down Sun with the 'I don't care about you' attitude.

"You know what... You are not worse than Moon. Hell you are not even better..."

'You are just exactly like Moon. ' I think it is what Sun wants to say. They are both so stuck in their own minds, never wanting to hear what other people say, what people are trying to prove they are so much better than this.

"I am me! NONE OF YOU COULD REALISE, I AM MY OWN PERSON!!!"

"I tried."

"No you didn't. You USED me. And now I am going to use you."

"I am sorry."

His voice seems so small. He sounds so heartbroken when he says sorry to Nexus, like we can feel the thought process behind Sun. He truly thinks everything happened was his fault, it is Sun's fault leading Nexus to become like this.

"Your apologies don't mean anything to me."

And Nexus sounds so wanting to move one, to get done with his job, to stop talking about the past. It doesn't matter if Sun says sorry or not, because he doesn't care. He doesn't want to care.

And the term he used... Dragging Sun into his lab and plug he into the machine, to let him never do any of his own will ever again....

What does Nexus think Sun will do with his own will? Like what exactly can Sun do? Yapping at his ears until it bleeds? Sun doesn't have any manipulated skills at all, he is so straightforward and honest to actually harm Nexus from behind, like, Nexus just needs to highjack Sun's head like Moon.

From my perspective, I think there are a lot of methods to let Sun do as Nexus plead, but Nexus only wants to stop thinking about Sun. Like if he fully controlled over Sun, he will not have to think about how Sun is disappointed in him anymore, He will not have to think of Sun as a human being, as his ex brother, as someone still cares about him.

And when Sun says he will not do as Nexus says? Nexus sounds didn't surprise at all. They understand each other too well to know even Sun sometimes a coward, he will not give up like that for Nexus.

Also... Why did he not just threaten Moon? Or Dazzle? Or Jack? Just like how he mocks Solar?

Did he not want his older brother to think of him lower?

"...I have you kneel at me, right ? So look at your superior being."

The way Nexus said that, it makes me feel sad. Like, Nexus so wants to cut off Sun, to make Sun think of him as a monster, to hurt Sun not even in the way it matters.

He still couldn't hit Sun at his lowest, I mean, back then, Old Moon even worse with Sun both emotionally and physically back in the days.

Even after so much nonsense craps, Sun still unharmed. He tortured Moon, he mocked Solar, but Sun.... There is no win in this fight.

Their fighting still looks so much more than their so used banter before... I wish Nexus and Sun will be still brothers ;.;

Sidenote: I love that Ruin tries to convince Nexus to think more with his head but just ends up giving up like : oh right, screw you then, asshole.

Very baby girl behaviour of him.

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You: Part 5

SUMMARY: The next day begins with you and Tyler waking up and packing for the upcoming storm chase. As you both prepare for the week ahead, there's a sense of excitement and anticipation. After arriving back at Tyler's place, the team gathers, and nervousness creeps in as you reunite with them. But all your worries fade as they welcome you with open arms. With Tyler by your side, you share the news of your relationship, and the team's reaction is filled with support and playful teasing, especially towards Tyler. The day ends on a high note, solidifying your place within the team and your future with Tyler.

WARNINGS: Fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4

NOTE: Here is the FINAL part to this story/series! Hope you enjoy! xx

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

(I believe I have everyone added/tagged that wants to be on my tag list! If you have asked and don't see your username tagged, I may have missed your request. Feel free to send it to me again and I'll make sure I get you added! Keep reading

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you slowly stir awake. You feel the familiar weight of Tyler’s arm draped over you, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. For a moment, you don’t move, just letting yourself savor the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Tyler is still asleep, his face relaxed, lips slightly parted. You take in the sight of him, his messy hair, the peaceful look on his face, and your heart swells. It's hard to believe that just days ago, you thought you might have lost this—lost him forever. But now, here you are, waking up in his house, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, and it’s better than you could have ever asked for.

You shift slightly, and Tyler stirs, his grip tightening around you for a moment as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, and he blinks a few times before focusing on you. A lazy, content smile spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers brushing lightly through his hair as you press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Tyler shifts, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes scan your face, and you can see the emotion there, the way he’s taking in this moment like it’s something precious. “I really thought I’d lost my chance with you. Part of me was afraid I’d wake up and you’d be gone,” he admits softly, his voice low, almost as if he’s afraid saying it out loud might break the spell.

You reach up, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “You didn’t lose me,” you whisper, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m right here.”

He leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, as if grounding himself in the reality of you being in his arms. When he pulls back, there’s a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat.

The two of you lie there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, neither of you in any hurry to break the peaceful bubble you’ve created. Tyler’s fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours, perfectly content to stay like this forever.

Eventually, though, Tyler shifts again, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “We should probably get up,” he murmurs, though his tone is hesitant, like he doesn’t really want to.

You scrunch your face into a playful pout, rolling over slightly so you can look up at him. “Do we have to?” you ask, your voice teasing as you stretch out under the covers, making a dramatic show of how comfortable you are.

Tyler chuckles, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist as he shakes his head. “You’re not making this any easier,” he says, though there’s a warmth in his voice that tells you he’s more than happy to stay right here.

You pout a little more dramatically, your bottom lip sticking out as you give him your best pleading eyes. “Come on, just a little longer?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, his hand resting on your hip. “You’re cute when you pout,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with amusement.

You let out a little huff, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. 

Then, an idea crosses your mind, and a mischievous glint sparks in your eyes. You shift beneath him, your fingers trailing up his chest, and you lean up, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his neck.

Tyler’s breath catches slightly, but he chuckles, shaking his head. “What are you doing?” he asks, though there’s a playful tone to his voice.

You smirk, your lips brushing against his skin as you trail another kiss down the side of his neck, sucking gently as you hear him let out a low hum. “Just trying to convince you to stay,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing.

Tyler shifts slightly, his hand moving to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?” he asks, his voice lower now, though still filled with that familiar teasing warmth.

You giggle softly, pressing another kiss to his neck, then another, before moving lower. You can feel him relax into your touch, his grip on your waist tightening as he leans back slightly, letting you work your magic.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs softly, his voice a little rougher now, his hand moving up your thigh. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to get out of this bed, you know that?”

You look up at him, your lips hovering just over his skin, a playful smile on your face. “That’s the plan,” you whisper, before trailing your lips back down his neck.

Tyler groans softly, his head tilting back slightly as he closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the attention. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, though there’s no real conviction behind his words.

You grin, pressing one last kiss to his collarbone before pulling back slightly, your fingers brushing through his messy hair. “So... does that mean you’re staying?”

Tyler opens his eyes, looking down at you with a grin that tells you he’s clearly enjoying this little game. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

You laugh softly, leaning up to kiss him again, this time slower and more intimate. His hand moves to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him as his lips move against yours.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you catching your breath. “You’re trouble,” he murmurs, though the smile on his face says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You grin up at him, your fingers brushing lightly over his chest. “Good trouble, though, right?”

Tyler laughs, nodding as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “The best kind.”

As the two of you finally pull yourselves out of bed, the chilly morning air makes you shiver slightly. Tyler notices instantly, catching the way you wrap your arms around yourself. Without a word, he steps over to his closet and pulls out one of his flannels, a well-worn favorite that’s soft from years of use. He walks back toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he holds it out.

“Here,” he says softly, his voice still husky from the early morning. “This’ll keep you warm.”

You glance down at the flannel in his hands and then back up to him, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “Thanks,” you reply, taking it from him and slipping it on. It’s oversized on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but it’s cozy, and it smells like him—the faint smell of his cedarwood cologne.

Tyler’s eyes linger on you for a moment, and you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that seeing you in his clothes does something to him. His gaze softens, and he steps closer, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs.

You smile up at him, feeling a bit lighter in that moment. He leans down and kisses the top of your head, his lips warm against your skin.

Tyler heads back to his dresser, pulling out clothes and tossing them onto the bed. You watch as he begins to pack his bag for the week ahead, each motion methodical and focused. You lean against the doorframe, sipping the coffee he’d made earlier, just content to watch him. It’s a quiet, intimate moment—one of those times that feels like you’ve been together for years, not just a short while.

“You all set for the week?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Almost,” Tyler replies, folding up a few shirts and shoving them into the duffel. “You?”

You nod. “Not quite. I have everything washed, just need to pack it.”

Tyler pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “You sure you’re ready for another week out there?” His tone is light, but you can hear the underlying concern. He’s protective, always thinking ahead.

You step closer, setting your coffee down on the dresser. “I’m good. And I’ll be better knowing we’re heading out together.”

He turns toward you, his hands stilling as he gazes down at you. “Yeah,” he says softly, pulling you into his arms. “Together.”

After gathering up Tyler’s things, the two of you head back over to your place so you can pack your bag for the week ahead. 

The drive is easy, filled with comfortable silence and the occasional brush of Tyler’s hand against yours as he navigates the familiar roads. You feel content, knowing the week ahead won’t be as daunting with him by your side.

Once at your apartment, you quickly slip into your pre chase routine, gathering clothes, gear, and everything else you might need. Tyler leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, watching as you toss a few last-minute items into your bag.

Just as you’re about to zip it shut, Tyler’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the screen, his brows raising slightly. “It’s the team,” he says, meeting your eyes before answering the call. You can hear Boone’s voice on the other end, though the words are muffled.

“Yeah, what’s the plan for today?” Boone’s voice comes through a little clearer now, as Tyler puts the phone on speaker so you can hear the conversation as well.

Tyler grins slightly, his eyes flicking toward you as he speaks. “We’ll meet at my place in a few hours. Get everything ready and we’ll go over the plan once  we’re all together. There’s some systems rolling in near the Kansas/Oklahoma border that look promising.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end, and you catch the hint of hesitation in Boone’s tone when he asks, “Ty…have you heard from her? None of us have talked to her. The team’s wondering if she’s-”

Your grin spreads, and you glance over at Tyler. He catches the look on your face, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Without missing a beat, he replies, “Yeah, I’ve heard from her.”

Boone seems to pause again, as if trying to read between the lines. “Alright then… I guess we’ll get the details later.”

Tyler just chuckles softly and shakes his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he replies, “Yeah, we’ll talk when you all get there.”

When he ends the call, he slips the phone back into his pocket and raises an eyebrow at you, his smirk widening. “You think he caught on?”

You laugh, zipping your bag shut. “Maybe, but they’ll get their answers soon enough.”

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Because I’m not about to hide this from anyone.”

You smile, resting your head against his chest for a moment, enjoying the warmth of him. “Neither am I.”

The two of you lock up your place and then head back to his place for a quick lunch of sandwiches. After finishing lunch, you and Tyler start cleaning up, the sound of laughter and conversation in the distance signaling the arrival of the team. As you finish wiping down the last plate, Tyler leans against the counter, catching your eye.

“They’re here,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a calm that you wished you could match.

You offer him a small smile, trying to brush off the nerves fluttering in your chest. “I’ll finish up here. You go get them.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if he can sense the apprehension bubbling just under the surface. But he doesn’t press, only nods before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Alright. I’ll be right outside.”

As soon as he steps out, you hear the muffled sound of the team greeting him. The warmth in their voices is unmistakable, but as their laughter drifts closer to the house, a nervous knot forms in your stomach. What if they aren’t okay with you and Tyler dating? What if this changes the dynamic? You take a steadying breath, hoping your nerves will ease, but it’s hard to shake the worry.

A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps approaching the door pulls you from your thoughts. The front door swings open, and you freeze for a moment, clutching the dish towel a little tighter in your hands.

But then Lily walks in, her eyes lighting up the moment she sees you. “There she is!” Without hesitation, she strides across the room and pulls you into a warm hug, squeezing you tight. “I’ve missed you!”

You laugh, your nerves melting a little as you hug her back. “I missed you too.”

Dexter and Dani follow right behind her, both grinning as they offer their own greetings. Dexter nudges you playfully on the arm. “Good to see you again. It’s been way too long.”

Dani winks at you, her grin widening. “Glad to have you back.”

Just as you start to feel fully at ease, Boone steps forward, towering over you with a wide grin before pulling you into a bear hug that nearly knocks the wind out of you. “About time you showed up again!”

You laugh, your cheeks flushing as he finally lets you go. But Boone doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes scan you for a second before they land on the flannel you’re wearing—Tyler’s flannel. 

He raises an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous as he points to the shirt you’re wearing. “Well, well… what’s this?”

Lily and Dani exchange knowing looks, and Dexter’s smirk only grows as Boone points to the obvious. “Tyler’s flannel, huh?”

You glance at Tyler, who had made his way over to the group, standing a few feet away with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, the world seems to narrow down to just the two of you. You’re not nervous anymore, just ready.

Tyler walks over, slipping his arm around your waist as he turns to face the team. “Alright, alright,” he says, his voice light but steady. “Yes, she’s coming back to the team. And we’ve decided to… give the dating thing a go.”

For a moment, there’s a beat of silence. Then Lily breaks it with an excited squeal. “Finally!”

Boone lets out a loud laugh, clapping Tyler on the back. “Took you long enough, man. We’ve all been waiting for this.”

Dexter crosses his arms, shaking his head in amusement. “I had a bet going that it wouldn’t happen until next month.”

Dani winks again, nudging you with her elbow. “Guess it’s official now. Took you long enough, though, T.”

Tyler chuckles, pulling you a little closer to his side. “Yeah, yeah. Took my time, but we’re here now.”

As the teasing continues, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. The team is thrilled, and more importantly, they’re accepting. All your worries fade as you look around at the smiles and laughter filling the room. You exchange another look with Tyler, the weight of the last 24 hours settling into something solid and comforting.

He leans down and murmurs quietly in your ear, “Told you everything would be fine.”

You smile, nudging him playfully as the teasing continues. “Okay, you were right this time.”

Tyler grins, brushing a kiss against your forehead as the team gathers around, ready for whatever comes next—together.

[lunarmoves]

"do you guys ever wish you could cry?" you ask sun after one particularly exhausting day at the daycare.

he perks up slightly as he looks at you from across the room, blank white eyes inquisitively staring into your own. you take his silence as an indication to continue. "like just, fwoooosh"—you splay your hands outward with the onomatopoeia—"let it all out?"

sun's faceplate makes a sharp click as he tilts it to the side, then he goes back to sweeping up all the abandoned toys on the soft ground into his lanky arms. "now why would we want to do that, friend?"

you frown at his easy dismissal, but continue on, ever persistent in your inquiries. "you know, to make yourself feel better afterwards? ease some stress? especially after the day we've had." you add the last bit on with some dryness, thinking about all the fits and fights you had to deal with throughout your shift.

"mmmnope!" sun responds brightly. he makes his way over to the toy bin to deposit his haul for cleaning later. "can't say i see the appeal!" you're almost offended at this tone.

"come on, indulge me a little!" you complain halfheartedly and follow after him like a little duckling, stopping just a few feet away from his lithe form.

"my dear, all we ever do is indulge you," sun says not without a hint of fondness as he turns around from the bin and pats you on the head. it's not quite condescending, but you swat at his hand lightly and he pulls it back to point it up in a grand gesture. "but! very well!" he pauses, as though to prolong the moment in a dramatic fashion. then, "no. final answer."

"booo"—you give him a thumbs down and a wrinkle of your nose—"boring answer. try again."

sun laughs loudly and it doesn't quite sound like the one you are used to. a shiver crawls down your spine that you brush easily enough away for the time being. "'boring'? or is it just not what you want to hear, hm?"

yikes. he didn't need to call you out like that. you recover as quick as you can. "you can't tell me you've never wanted to cry before."

he doesn't even hesitate. "i've never wanted to cry before."

"ha ha," you say sarcastically. it makes his rays spin around once as he grins. "oh come on. doesn't it bother you that you can't express yourself like that?" you muse, more to yourself than anything, but he of course hears you anyways and settles an unreadable gaze on you.

"bother us? why would it bother us?" sun smiles widely at you, the edges of his grin taut and strained even with his eyes half-lidded and narrow. "why would it bother us that we cannot have water run from our eyes, or snot from our nose? that we cannot mimic something privy to organic beings? it is quite disgusting, frankly."

okay, now you're actually offended. even if he's right, he didn't need to say it in that way. "it can be cathartic for some people, you know!"

"ah ah ah!" sun wags a finger at you and seems to loom over your smaller form. he casts a shadow across your face. "you seem to forget one crucial detail: we are not people. therefore, it does not apply!"

"you clearly feel emotions, though!" you argue, even as you see white pupils alight in his eyes among a backdrop of hurricane grey. "you feel sad and happy and angry. why shouldn't you—"

"i think you've overstayed your welcome, friend," sun cuts across you in a whisper that makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. his head clicks to the left once and the sound is like a gunshot in the quiet of the daycare. his eyes squint into crescents at you, but there is no warmth in his gaze.

your jaw clicks shut. and when he speaks, something in your stomach abruptly bottoms out. "get out."

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

《Beloved's Veil》

Part IV

➺ Part III

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue through the window. The soft sound of ringing filled the air, and when he finally answered, you could hear the familiar rustle of fabric--he must be fidgeting again. “So, are you still hiding behind that counter at the shop, or have you finally stepped out into the world?” You teased like usual. His voice was low and slightly breathless as if your words sent a shiver down his spine. “I’m afraid the counter is my fortress. It protects me from the chaos... and from you.”

You chuckled, picturing him biting his lip, that adorable blush creeping up his cheeks. “Oh, so I’m the chaos in your life? That’s flattering, Habib."

“Not just chaos--delightful chaos. You’re the storm I never knew I needed.” There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, making your heart race.

The atmosphere shifted, thickening with unspoken feelings. “A storm? You make it sound so dramatic. I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“And you’re succeeding. I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s a delightful distraction... one I’m very much enjoying.” The sincerity in his voice made you smile. “Good. Because I’m thinking about you too. Your smile, your kind eyes... I miss them.” You leaned back against the soft cushions of your chair, the warmth of the evening enveloping you, taking a whiff out of your cigarette. “You’re making me blush again! You know I’m still not used to...this.” He laughed softly, and you could almost see him shyly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m just getting started. What if I told you I’d show up at your shop tomorrow?” You couldn’t help but let a mischievous grin spread across your face.

There was a moment of silence, and then a slight gasp. “You’d do that? But what if someone sees you? The whole village will talk!” His voice rose slightly in panic, but beneath it lay an undeniable excitement.

“Let them talk! I’m not afraid. I want everyone to know I come for you, not just the snacks, c'mon.” You could almost hear his heart racing on the other end.

“You have no idea how much that means to me when you say that. My heart might burst from happiness.” His voice was a tender whisper, filled with emotion.

“Good. Just remember, you’re the one who’s been keeping me at bay. It’s time to let me in, Habib.” You leaned forward, urgency in your tone, your heart pounding.

“I’m ready. Just promise me one thing.” His voice dropped, becoming serious, sending a tingle of anticipation through you.

“Hm? What’s that?” You held your breath, captivated by the moment.

“Promise me you’ll always come back.” The sincerity in his plea wrapped around your heart like a warm embrace.

“I promise. As long as you keep that lovely smile waiting for me.” You could almost see his soft smile lighting up the dimly lit room.

“Then I’ll wait... forever if I must.” His voice was filled with determination, a promise of loyalty that made your heart swell. “Wait... Are you smoking?”

You smirked, sensing the slight shift in his tone. “Maybe. Why? Lemme guess you don’t like it?”

His voice turned scolding but laced with concern. “Yes! Especially when it’s you!. You know that stuff’s bad for you. What are you doing!?”

“Relax, it’s just one.” You took another slow puff, letting the smoke escape through your lips.

“Just one?” His tone carried both disbelief and frustration. “You always say that. What happened to that promise you made about cutting back?”

You sighed dramatically, flicking the ash off the cigarette. “Well, that was before I got bored waiting for you to pick up.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault? (Y/N), you can't tease your way out of this! Not this time!” His playful irritation seeped through the phone, and you could almost picture his brows furrowing. “You’re seriously going to risk your health because I took a few seconds to answer?”

You took another drag, the smoke filling the silence between you two. “Relax, it’s not that big of a deal. I need to unwind sometimes y'know."

“And smoking is the only way?! I’m serious.” His tone softened, the worry now more prominent. “If I could be there right now, I’d take that cigarette right out of your hand.”

“Oh? And what would you do after that?” you leaned back into your chair, flicking the ash away. He shivered due to the sudden challenging tone and was confused about whether you were being your usual smug self or annoyed.

“I’d hold your hand and --hold it tightly... so you wouldn’t reach for another.” His words were soft, but they carried a depth that made your heart skip a beat. “You have no idea how much I care about you.”

For a moment, the playful banter gave way to something heavier, more intimate. The night outside seemed quieter, the breeze cooler against your skin.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’ll put it out--for you.” You smiled, stubbing the cigarette into the ashtray. “Happy now?”

There was a satisfied hum on the other end. “Very. I don’t want anything coming between us, not even that.” There was a quiet intensity in his words, and despite the teasing, you could feel the weight of his concern. “I’d rather be the one keeping you company.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden bold shift in tone. “Look at you, being all clingy.”

“I am no-not being clingy! It’s caring.” He indeed was clingy. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “You mean a lot to me… I don’t want to lose you to something as stupid as a cigarette. How many times must I tell you?.”

“You’re really something, you know that? I have never put down a cigarette for anyone until you came along.” There was a soft chuckle on the other end, full of relief.

“And don’t think I won’t remind you next time you light one up."

"Geez Golrez," Oh, how he loves when you call him that. His own nickname, given by you. He doesn’t think that he could ever hear that name and not feel like he belongs, to you, and no one else.

"I think you enjoy it, making me worry sick." He shook his head in mild annoyance.

You laughed, feeling the tension from before melt away. “Maybe I do.”

"Not fair."

═════ ◈ ═════

The next day, Habib had breakfast as usual--quietly, keeping his head down to avoid being the target of his brothers’. He simply hoped to get through the morning and escape to his sanctuary, the shop. Thankfully, he made it without incident. But now came the hardest part, the waiting. As always, he didn’t know when you would arrive--perhaps now, or later in the evening. The anticipation gnawed at him.

For a fleeting moment, he considered using the shop’s telephone to call you. Just to hear your voice, to know when you might show up. But he stopped himself. He didn’t want to disturb you, so he buried himself in work, waiting like the patient man he had trained himself to be.

Then, a whisper. "Golrez?" His heart skipped. He spun around, eyes scanning the shop--but it was empty. Nothing. God, he really needed to stop letting his imagination run wild. But that voice... it had been so real. So clear.

No, it couldn’t be that. It couldn’t be him. He was free from it--from him. He had healed... right?

"Habib?" The voice again, but this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. His eyes snapped toward the entrance, catching your form as you stepped through the door. The headlights of your car dimmed behind you, the only remaining light outside coming from the solitary streetlamp flickering weakly.

For a moment, he just stared, the tension in his body melting as reality grounded him. It was you. Only you.

"You’re... here," he breathed out, his voice carrying a mixture of relief and something softer, more tender.

Finally, the waiting was over.

"I am sorry, a meeting held me back. You alright?" you asked softly, your voice gentle but observant.

Habib blinked rapidly, trying to ground himself. "Y-yes, wow, I didn't real-lize it's 7 already," he stammered, though his eyes darted away, betraying the truth.

"You don't look okay to me."

His breath hitched. There was no avoiding it anymore. "There is something you must know, (Y/N). You... need to know. I can't hide it from you, it's an injustice to you." His voice wavered as he spoke, and you could feel the weight of whatever was tormenting him.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to ease his tension. "You want to go somewhere private?" you asked, glancing around the shop.

The idea of being alone with you, at this time of night, sent a wave of nervousness through Habib. His mind raced. "Private? At this time?!" he whispered in disbelief, his voice barely audible.

Before he could gather his thoughts, his father entered, interrupting the moment. "Oh Ma'am (Y/N), so nice to have you here again," Mr. Kadir greeted warmly, his presence breaking the tension in the air. The two of you exchanged pleasantries, briefly discussing village matters, and the lighthearted conversation helped ease the heavy atmosphere. Habib found himself breathing easier, even if just for a moment.

But then, your voice broke through his thoughts, clear and direct. "Mr. Kadir, I humbly ask if I may take your son to discuss something. Perhaps, for a drive?"

All at once, the weight of the situation crashed back down on him. His father’s eyes flicked between the two of you, reading the subtle tension in the air. Habib could barely stand still, his body taut with anxiety and shame. He wasn’t sure how his father would react to such an open request, especially considering what might follow.

"My son?... um... I didn't realize," Mr Kadir began, his voice laced with a bit of surprise. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, what can you expect from an old man like me? My eyesight has long since weakened." You chuckled softly, a little amused, still waiting for his response, though your heart was just as anxious.

There was a beat of silence before Mr. Kadir spoke again, this time with more sincerity. "I am... very honored and happy, which I myself didn't realize I would be after hearing this, since, well, these things are frowned upon in our family." His voice carried the weight of tradition, but there was a lightness to it, too. His hand, worn from years of hard work, rested firmly on Habib’s shoulder, pulling him close to his side.

"But Habib here," he paused, a deep affection in his voice, "He deserves everything... so I allow you. I allow you to take him, but do be safe."

The warmth of Mr. Kadir’s words washed over Habib, though his nerves still buzzed. His eyes flicked toward you, wide with both surprise and gratitude. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but in this moment, he felt the weight of his father's love.

You smiled, a soft promise in your words. "Don't worry, he is in safe hands." There was a playful edge to your tone, but your gaze was steady, sincere. "Should I drop him at the shop or home?"

"Just drop him at our street, I'll come to pick him, ma'am." With that, the arrangement was made. Now, you and Habib sat in the backseat of the car, a thick silence hanging between you both. Outside, Odai stood guard, watching over the vehicle like a sentinel in the quiet night.

"So, speak, Habib." Your voice cut through the silence, gentle but urging.

Habib hesitated, his hand slowly moving to the back of his head, fingers working to untie the knot holding his mask in place. "(Y/N)..." he murmured as if seeking permission from more than just you.

"No, you don't have to." You spoke quickly, the words spilling from your lips. "If you think I brought you here expecting to see you--"

"No," he interrupted, his hand gently reaching out to touch yours, his fingers warm and steady. "I want to." His voice was soft, yet resolute, full of the vulnerability he rarely let others see. "Let me..."

Something in your heart stirred--a deep pang of something indescribable. Out of respect, perhaps even guilt, you looked away, your gaze falling to the shadows in the car. Why did you hesitate? Why couldn’t you bear to see the face of the man you longed for? Was it fear--for him, or for yourself? Could someone so gentle, so pure, truly deserve the eyes of a woman like you upon him?

"(Y/N)..." His voice broke through again, softer this time, as his hand returned to yours, squeezing gently. "Look at me, please."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you trailed your eyes up from his hand, following the line of his arm to his face. And there, even in the dim glow of the streetlights, you were met with something you hadn’t anticipated--brightness, radiance, a purity that took your breath away.

His skin was fair, and flawless in a way that seemed almost unreal. The soft curls of his hair framed his face in such a way that you wondered how it could be possible for someone to look like this. Now uncovered, his eyes, spoke the depth of emotion, vulnerability, and kindness more profoundly that could only belong to someone as beautiful on the inside as they were on the outside.

He was perfect--too perfect--and in that moment, you understood why you had hesitated. The truth was, you were scared. Scared that someone so pure could be hurt by someone like you, someone who had seen and lived through far too much.

"How..." you whispered, not sure what else to say.

"Is it what you expected?" he asked quietly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You shook your head, at a loss for words. "No... you're more."

The softest smile tugged at his lips, and in that shared silence, there was nothing left to hide.

"I mean- I-" You stammered, but before you could finish, Habib gently guided your hand to his cheek, his warm skin soft beneath your fingertips. His gaze was unwavering, tender, filled with an emotion so pure it almost hurt to witness.

"It's nothing. Don't say it," he whispered, his voice soft yet full of conviction. "I showed you myself because... whatever you want to call it--beauty, a blessing--it was incomplete without you. And now, it's for you, just for you. These eyes are nothing if they’re not seeing you, this skin nothing if it’s not being touched by you, this hair is nothing if it’s not being played with by you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words seemed to dissolve before they could form. "You---don’t say that," you managed, your voice trembling slightly, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his words.

He smiled faintly, the curve of his lips bittersweet. "I will, because it's true. I am nothing without you."

You felt your heart skip a beat, the intensity of his devotion weighing on your chest. You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself as your emotions tangled in the moment. "Um-" you cleared your throat, struggling to find the right words, but all that came was a quiet breath. "I don’t deserve-"

"You deserve more than you think," Habib cut you off softly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. "More than you allow yourself to believe. And if I can be the one to give that to you, then my purpose is fulfilled. "

Habib's demeanour subtly shifts, the tender atmosphere becoming slightly heavier as if a shadow passed over the moment. He pulls back just a fraction, not breaking the physical connection but seeming to gather his thoughts, and you notice how his fingers tighten just slightly around your hand like he's holding on for reassurance.

"(Y/N)..." he begins, his voice quieter now, more hesitant. "There’s... something I’ve been needing to tell you. Something I’ve carried with me for years. It’s... it's not easy for me to talk about, but I can’t keep it hidden from you any longer."

You tilt your head, concern starting to bubble up, though you remain calm, waiting for him to continue. He inhales deeply, his eyes locking with yours, filled with uncertainty, as if he's preparing to unearth a buried secret.

"When I was younger—around sixteen—I... went through something. Something I can’t fully explain, even to this day." He pauses, looking down as if gathering the courage to continue. "I was... not myself for a time. Somehow I got...possessed. I barely remember much of it, but what I do remember..." He swallows, his voice trailing off as his fingers absently trace a pattern on your skin.

The weight of the confession lingers between you, and you can tell it’s a memory that haunts him deeply, a part of his past he’s reluctant to confront.

"Possessed?" you repeat, keeping your tone neutral, though your heart races slightly. You already know, but hearing it from his lips, in this context, changes the feeling entirely.

"Yes," he breathes, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "It was like... something else had control over me. I was sick...and I was dangerous. I hurt people--people I loved, hurt myself too. My family didn’t speak about it much after it was over. They believed it was better left forgotten. But I can’t forget. I’ve tried to move on, but..."

He trails off, and for the first time since you’ve known him, Habib seems truly fragile. His eyes flicker with fear--not of you, but of your reaction, of how you’ll perceive him now that you know this darker part of him.

You realize he doesn’t know that you already have an inkling of this part of his past. He’s carrying this burden alone, convinced it might change everything between you.

"I wanted to tell you earlier, but... I was afraid. Afraid you’d see me as someone... dangerous, or broken. But I can’t hide it anymore, especially now that you’ve seen... all of me." His voice cracks slightly, and he lowers his gaze, almost as if bracing himself for judgment.

There’s a long, heavy silence before you can find the words to respond, but Habib waits, his entire form tense, caught between relief and fear of rejection.

"It doesn't change anything, Habib." Your voice was soft but steady as you pulled him gently closer, feeling his uncertainty in the way his shoulders tensed under your touch. “I’m glad you opened up, that you trusted me enough to share this.” You ran your fingers gently through his hair, trying to offer him comfort in the only way you could at that moment. “I am thankful to God that you're safe, that you’re better now. I don't want anything else."

Habib’s eyes were glassy, reflecting the struggle he carried within. His voice faltered as he continued, "But (Y/N), I still feel... I still feel strange." His fingers twisted nervously at the hem of his sleeve. "As if it—he—is still here as if to take me away. I’m scared that if he comes back, I might go mad, and... I could do something to—to you!." His voice cracked, raw emotion breaking through. "I wouldn’t be able to live if that happened!"

You held his trembling hands, trying to soothe the storm inside him. "Hey, hey, listen to me. Look at me," you urged, your tone tender but firm. His gaze finally lifted to meet yours. "I am not scared. Not of whatever possessed you, and certainly not of you." Your fingers tightened slightly around his, anchoring him. "These things—they’re not something to be feared." You felt his breath hitch as he listened. "Got it? The only one who suffers most in all this is you, and I can't stand that."

His lip quivered as he struggled to find words, his body shaking slightly in your arms. You placed your forehead against his, trying to will him to believe in your words. "Be strong, Habib. Be strong for yourself... and for me."

For a moment, he seemed to hold his breath, letting your words sink in. Then, almost as if he was exhaling all the fear and tension he’d been carrying, he finally let go. His hands squeezed yours, just enough for you to feel him start to come back to you. His voice was low, fragile, as he whispered, "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You don’t have to worry about that," you replied softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. "You’ll never have to find out."

He nodded and rested his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “My mind has been... at ease ever since you came into my life. After so long, I felt as if I am alive. I want it to remain that way.”

“It will, my Golrez,” you assured him, a gentle smile gracing your lips. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of his struggles resting heavily on your heart. “But look, it could just be your mind playing tricks on you. How about I talk to your father and take you to the city to see a psychologist? Or, if you prefer, I can have them come here to my bungalow.”

His eyes widened slightly, shaking his head vehemently. “No! You... you don’t have to--”

“Habib,” you interjected softly, cupping his cheek with your hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him. “Getting checked by a psychologist is normal. It’s important for you. Don’t think of it as a taboo or let that fear of ‘rumors’ take over. For God’s sake, I don’t care what people say.” Your voice grew firmer, imbued with a fierce protectiveness. “What matters is your well-being. People talking are not important! You need to start living on your own terms.”

His gaze searched yours, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his beautiful eyes. You could see the battle within him—the fear of judgment and the desire for healing. You leaned closer, allowing the warmth of your presence to envelop him. “I’ll be right by your side, I promise. You don’t have to face this alone.”

“No, it’s not that… it’s my… brother, my older one. He won’t approve of all this, like my father did. He’s very serious about these things. Hell, he doesn’t even know about us. Nobody except Rahim and now… Father does.” The mention of his brother sent a ripple of concern through you, Maya’s warning echoing in your mind, reminding you of the torment Habib endured.

“Is he… y’know, a bit too strict?” you asked hesitantly, watching for any sign of discomfort.

A small nod was all you received, but it spoke volumes. It was enough to confirm your suspicions about the family dynamic. Your jaw involuntarily clenched.

“Fine, he may not approve of us now, but what if--what if we don’t even give him the chance to disapprove?” You searched Habib’s eyes, trying to convey your determination.

“W-what do you… mean?” His confusion was palpable.

“Marry me,” you said, your voice steady despite the gravity of your proposal.

“Become my husband and start your life with me at the bungalow, fresh and new. If you say yes now… then I’ll come in a few days to ask for your hand from your father.”

The shock on Habib's face was immediate and profound. His eyes widened, mouth slightly agape, as if he were processing the weight of your words. “Y-you will?” His voice trembled, a mix of disbelief and hope washing over him.

“Yes,” you affirmed, your heart racing with the weight of your promise.

He let out a choked laugh, covering his face with one hand, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. “I--I --Yes! I-I’ll talk to my father as soon as I can, and then… yes!.”

You pulled him into a hug, and he shyly returned it, clutching you tightly as if you were his lifeline. The warmth of his body against yours sent a rush of comfort through you, solidifying the bond that was forming.

“I love you, with every fibre of my being,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. The sincerity of his words wrapped around both of you, creating a cocoon of warmth and hope for the future. "I love you too, my Golrez."

═════ ◈ ═════

"Where are you both coming from? Isn't it later than usual?" Basim questioned as he watched his father enter with Habib trailing behind.

"Habib had some work left at the shop, so I was waiting for him. I was talking to my friend at the end of the street," he replied, trying to maintain his composure.

Basim scoffed, throwing a glance at his other brother, Samir, who lounged in the veranda, his gaze dripping with mockery. "Baba, as if you ever leave Habib alone for a moment."

"You are calling your own father a liar? What is it to you?!" His voice rose defensively, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath his anger.

"I’m just asking! After all he’s been through, you shouldn’t leave him alone, for his own sake," Basim shot back, crossing his arms.

The tension in the air thickened as Habib stood silently, feeling the weight of their scrutiny

"Basim, just let your brother be. Let him forget all that and be strong. He needs to overcome it now that he's working. He's doing the job very well," Kadir said, his voice firm but laced with concern as he beckoned Habib to go to his room. Habib hurried away, feeling the tension in the air like a thick fog.

As Kadir turned to leave, Basim halted him, his expression grim. "Baba, don’t think I don’t know what’s going on. That DC and him—I am aware."

"So?" Kadir replied, a frown forming on his brow.

"So?! Are you serious--wow! Do you even realise what that means? Our family's reputation, Baba! Our honour! How can you let some modern woman from the city ruin all that?" Basim's voice rose, laced with frustration.

Kadir's eyes narrowed, sensing the underlying jealousy in Basim's words. He could tell that this concern was less about family honour and more about Basim's own insecurities, feeling overshadowed by Habib's connection to you.

"Don’t talk about her like that. She’s a good, educated woman. An honest officer,” Kadir snapped back, his patience wearing thin.

“Bullshit! It’s all a facade!” Basim shot back, his voice dripping with contempt. “An honest or good woman wouldn’t go out frolicking with someone's son--especially our brother! Of course, she chose him! People must have filled her ears with all that--him being beautiful here nonsense, so she took the first chance to trap him! And even your dearest son, after going out, did the very first shameful thing he could think of! Is that why you wanted him to work?! It’s all lust, Baba nothing else! I don’t care who the hell she is! He is not going to meet her, otherwise, Baba, you don’t want to know what I will do.” He has already done enough. Kadir scoffed in his mind

"Don't you dare!" Kadir’s voice boomed through the house, sharp with authority. "Just leave Habib alone! I swear, Basim, if you interfere in this matter, you’ll leave yourself no choice but to leave this house with your family! You hear me?!"

"You’re going to kick me--your eldest son--out of this house?" Basim spat, his voice teetering between shock and outrage.

"Hell, I will." Basim's eyes darted to Samir, seeking support, but even his brother stayed quiet, knowing better than to get between them now.

Without another reply, Basim stormed off, Samir trailing after him, his discomfort palpable in the tense atmosphere. Kadir watched them leave, shaking his head, a sigh escaping his lips. He turned to see Rahim and his wife, Dana, standing at the terrace, concern etched on their faces.

But Kadir overlooked Habib, who was hidden behind the wall, fists clenched tightly at his sides. His mind was a whirlwind, spiralling into chaos at Basim’s words. Each accusation felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into him, filling him with anger and confusion. How could his brother not see the truth?

How could Basim reduce what he felt to mere lust? And the way he talked about you--about your intentions--it churned Habib’s stomach. Every word had been laced with bitterness, turning something beautiful into something vile.

"U-uncle? You okay? I apologize on my dad's behalf-"

"It's fine, Rahim," Habib murmured, his voice distant as he offered a faint, reassuring smile. He gently caressed Rahim's face, the boy’s concern piercing through the haze of anger swirling within him. Without another word, he turned away, making his way to his room. The door clicked softly behind him, but the sound felt louder in his mind--a barrier between him and the chaos outside.

Part V

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I was thinking about killer and his emotionlessness in st2. And people struggling to portray that in writing (for those who wanna portray it), but based off some personal experiences I won’t go into specifically, maybe here’s some ideas for anyone who needs them.

Maybe write his emotionlessness aspects as a firm belief, integral to his sense of self. Write it as a deeply ingrained coping mechanism that was only encouraged and reinforced by the people around him, who wanted him to be and behave that way because it meant they got what they wanted from him—consistently shamed or invalidated or worse if he showed an emotion that wasn’t wanted.

He has detached from himself, the body, his surroundings; most things don’t feel or seem real, including himself.

because killer thinks of himself as emotionless, and he very likely doesn’t feel some emotions such as guilt or remorse or even love in an emotional way and struggles with empathy which are things trauma can absolutely cause, its also important to keep in mind that it is abuse and trauma that has caused this.

Trauma and abuse has led him to dissociating and numbness, repeated everyday violence and murder and abuse has been completely normalized and accepted as a part of his existence.

His apathy is a result of all of this, constantly being pushed to his limits emotionally, physically, and mentally over and over.

Due to the circumstances of his world, the abilities of Resetting and the like, even death has become the norm. Both of himself and others. He is surrounded by so much of it that it no longer means anything to him.

His thoughts of things being ultimately meaningless, his knowledge of the Players making him believe that no one really has free will in the end. It all only makes him disconnect from himself and his body.

However. Just because killer does not believe himself capable of emotion, does not mean he isnt expressing any. His body can still react to things—crying when stressed, flinching and wincing in pain—even if Killer himself just doesn’t understand stress or enjoys his own pain. Especially if the pain wasn’t “that bad” in his eyes.

You can write it as if Killer believes his body sometimes does things on its own without his say so. Grabbing things without his awareness to fidget with because he needs stimulation, attempting to stab someone if even being touched causes his body to react negatively, as if the touch was painful or frightening. Constant fidgeting and shifting, and getting frustrated about why it can’t just stay still.

(He might eventually face a bit of resigned acceptance to this, eventually just having to accept that the body apparently needs to do these things. And no matter how hard he or anyone else tries to get it to stop, it’s impossible, and likely to just make the fidgeting ‘worse’.)

If his body cries from stress, he’d probably be extremely confused; steadfast believing he doesn’t feel anything, and just wipes it away—perhaps dissociating even further or getting frustrated, because he doesn’t believe thats something he’d do.

Experiencing cognitive dissonance, because the action of crying suggests something’s wrong but he feels..nothing. Neutral, as he always does. Or if hes physically hurt during a mission, his body could be crying from the physical sensations and yet killer is mentally riding the high of “finally” experiencing emotion.

If someone is berating him or verbally abusing him, he might be confused by the body’s tears because there is no physical harm. He doesn’t feel offended or hurt by what this person is saying to him, so why would he cry. He doesn’t think it’s logical, and thus will rationalize it away as just something up with the body.

He might look back during his moments in Stage 1–happiness, fear, guilt—with either a sense of detached confusion or maybe amusement, believing that other side of him to have been rather dramatic. Maybe he’s even curious about why the world seems so much brighter when someone like Color is around.

Because killer doesn’t connect the body to himself in his mind, he probably has a hard time visualizing it or showing any care for it beyond making sure it’s functioning and still useful. And he doesn’t really feel any empathy for it either.

It is also very possible to have people react to the way he doesn’t react—such as simply standing and quietly watching whenever nightmare punishes someone in the gang, not seeming bothered by it at all, as opposed to anyone else who is witnessing. This can be compounded by any signs of dismissiveness and downplaying what happened.

You can have people treat him differently, react to him differently, either being disturbed/uneasy by his appearing to not have any emotions—no anger, fear, hatred, disgust—in situations they feel he should.

Appearing unbothered or unphased by things said or done to himself or others as if they don’t matter—either because it is normal for him, or because he is so commonly dissociated that no one notices that he dissociated in these moments.

Others may even be outraged and offended by his apparent lack of concern or compassion, and even more may interpret him as being arrogant. Others may make it a personal thing to try and provoke from what they believe an appropriate response to be from him. (They’ll probably end up being killed or mortally wounded in this case.)

Writing people’s reactions to him and his lack of reactions, besides those big dead black eyes and empty grin, will definitely help set him apart from others around him.

He will likely struggle to accept the idea that he can feel genuine emotions; and may outright reject or rationalize/intellectualize away anything that contradicts this belief of his. He may avoid anything or anyone that provokes reactions he doesn’t understand—as a form of self protection. Especially if someone or something has convinced him that his emotions are inconvenient, useless, weak, or dangerous.

It’s also quite possible that hed be reluctant to acknowledge his body’s needs or emotions, to let it “speak” in a way, uncertain of how it will react or what it will make him do. Especially if his body has destructive breakdowns when repressed stress and pain catch up to him, and it makes him feel out of control.

Automatic responses like sweating, shaking, changes in breathing, temperature fluctuations; all are likely to be observed in a detached way and not really linked to any specific emotional state. Insomia, changes in eating habits, and chronic pain are likely to be some biggies for him.

He probably doesn’t actually know why his body appears to be in so much pain—besides the amount of DT accumulation and the history of physical trauma—but he’s more likely to take some twisted glee in being able to feel it than care about where its coming from or why.

He’s probably also likely to have a decreased immune system and might be prone to sickness, due to the results of chronic stress and the results of repressing it all; but he’ll probably over intellectualize it away.

Another form of self protection for him could be his typical silly, dumb, hyperactive facade being a deliberate choice on his end. Because it not only leads to people overlooking or underestimating him, it protects him by keeping people away.

If he pretends to feel what others seem to want him to feel in certain situations, they’re less likely to start pestering him and trying to provoke reactions from him. It also helps keeping people entertained, makes him seem unpredictable, and most of all, doesn’t allow anyone to look at him and find him lacking. Find him boring. Enough to potentially get rid of him, or replace him.

He may not may not actually care about others’ opinions of him—praise or criticism—but people sure seem to want him to, so he’ll pretend to if it’s beneficial.

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hi!! I was hoping you could do skz getting protective over their SO. Thank you!!

stray kids getting protective over their s/o

genre: general, romance

word count: 0.8k

warnings: not proofread

pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3

bangchan

heh... we see how protective he is with the other members. that whole moving speech in one of their concerts about promising to protect them, his fans, the staff, etc... and the pure emotion behind those words; you can tell he meant every single word. chan is protective by nature. it is a quality quite clearly blended in his dna strands. so it goes without say that he will be very protective over his s/o, very protective indeed. no one has a chance ag hruting or upsetting you when he's around.

lee know

you knew minho was protective before you even started dating. you liked that about him; it showed he worried for you a lot more than he cared to let on. because we all know minho doesn't let on what he is thinking too easily. but you knew. you always knew. and now that you guys are dating, you can see his protectiveness take a knew light. he won't let you walk home and night, for one thing. "no, i'll come and get you." "but i'm right across town." "shut up, i'm on my way now." because he just loves you. and if your walking through town with him at night, he always has an arm wrapped around you whenever he can.

changbin

i feel like he's more subtle with his protectiveness. like he is protective for sure but in his own way. because of his quite chill, laid-back personality, his protectiveness doesn't come across as passionately or strongly as the others. he will do thinks like hold your drink at the club for you or keep an eye out to make sure a person you dislike isn't near you. and he will whisper to you if you are uncomfortable or want to leave. stuff like that he's good at. he's great in situations where you don't want to make too much of a fuss.

hyunjin

he doesn't see himself as the protective type. but the truth is, hyunjin is quietly protective. despite his usual dramatic flare, in social situations he's more calm and to himself. but he makes sure he has a watchful eye on you without even realising it. especially if you are someone who is not as confident around people or find it hard to turn down advances towards you. he's there if you need him. will have a protective arm around your waist or arm, keeping you close to him and providing you with all the support you need.

han

hahahaaaa han is very interesting with regards to this topic. he doens't reallyyy get protective unless he's super jealous of someone. then he is quite keen to intercept in his own jisungie way. he will usually do his classic, go-to move of sliding an arm around your shoulder or a hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he grins and introduces himself to the person who was quite clearly flirting with you not moments ago. yeah, no one gets to his baby.

felix

felix may not seem like the protective type at first glance, but he is, trust me. he always stands up for you and protects you in social aspects. for instance, if your name is ever mentioned in a negative way, he is quick to counteract that person. he also makes sure to protect you emotionally, looking out for your feelings and making sure your emotional needs are being met. it's what makes him the sweetest guy out there; he supports you no matter what.

seungmin

he's always got your back. and what's better is that he can read you like a book. just one look from you and he knows exactly what you're saying; it's as if he is reading your thoughts. when you want to escape a party, he can see it in your eyes, and immediately come up with an excuse to leave, taking you by the arm and walking out with you. when someone is making you uncomfortable, he sees the shift in your eyes, and his jaw automatically clenched as he steps in straight away.

jeongin

not as protective as the others. or at least, has what he thinks. but it's his instincts that suggest otherwise. suddenly he's pulling you over to the other side of the path so you're not near the road. or he's taking off his coat and shielding you from torrential rain when you forget to bring a coat yourself. little things like that you notice. but he questions if he's being protective at all. no, to him, this is just what being a good boyfriend is all about.