#i dont know what to say expect thank you for the intense love you gave this fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

subskz · 1 year ago

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oh sahar 😭😭😭 i had to reblog bc the word limit in the replies simply could not contain the lovebeam i am sending ur way!!!

i just want to start by saying thank you so much for not only taking the time to read this series w such care, but for taking the time to write out your thoughts after each part. i know i’ve said it a million times but i will say it a million more!! i’m sure that alone takes time and effort and i’m infinitely thankful for ur support!

the olive branch description!! i’m so glad u liked that line haha i felt like smth like that suited how minho goes abt reconciling in this story…he isn’t the best at opening up or apologizing but he still makes an awkward effort in his own lino way! you are so unbelievably sweet oh my god…u have no idea how honored i am to hear that my writing could inspire you but i also dont think i can accept such high praise from u! just from your incredibly thorough feedback, the connections you make in the story so seamlessly, the beautiful meanings you have drawn from it that i could never even think of, i can tell that you are an exceptional writer ㅠ i can’t wait to dive into ur masterlist and read ur works bc i’m certain you will blow me away!

“the drop that overflowed the cup” is such a perfect way to put it! i kinda wanted this story to be abt a situation where there’s not just one single problem to be resolved, more like a collection of fatefully-timed circumstances and personalities where everyone means well but in the end still make foolish decisions and accidentally hurt each other in the process…and lino is no exception hehe ofc he had a big role in adding to the reader’s misgivings, but as you said, ultimately the root of the issue lied in her and chan’s skewed worldviews. they were doomed to fail regardless if they weren’t willing to make that change! i also wholly agree w what u said abt the importance of admitting ur wrong! sometimes that (and the actions you take afterwards) can be worth even more than an apology

THE SENSATION IN HER THUMB! i’m delighted you caught that hehe but as expected u are as observant as ever! i couldn’t resist sprinkling that lil trope in <3 “no one wants to become strong until they are forced to by the hands of the ppl they once loved” just makes my heart absolutely ache 😞 that’s precisely it…being strong is so admirable, but ideally it would never have to get to that point where a person has to withstand so much on their own. maintaining that stubborn kindness and compassion for the world even when it’s been trampled on and taken advantage of is the strongest thing a person can do imo!

i’m so thrilled to know that there were parts in this chapter that could touch your heart ㅠ the “you are the moon” section especially is one that i really really wanted to include, so it makes me happier than anything that it struck a chord w you! also “pure love can only nurture you not drain you” PLEASE you always have the most beautiful things to say!! the note you made abt the intimacy of twin flames is also so precious to me thank you so much…it gave me the chance to write abt such intense emotions that i’m not used to describing, and though it’s surely scary and uncomfortable to not only bare yourself completely to someone, but to also see the deepest parts of yourself reflected in them, the idea of it resulting in an unconditional love and understanding is very nice to think abt ♡ i’m so happy you feel it suits channie as well!

from day one i have just been so in awe of your attention to detail and your willingness to become invested in bb…it truly is the most encouraging thing in the world when you catch these things and comment on them. every little note you’ve made abt a recurring theme in the story, or a subtle action that gives insight to the characters, or just a certain sentence that you liked has put me over the moon! you give every one of those easter eggs value when you point them out, and i just can never thank you enough for your big heart and brilliant mind! the way you seem to understand the message of this series and its characters inside and out is so fulfilling to me, and the fact that parts of it resonated w you personally and could bring you some peace of mind is all i could ever hope for! it makes my own heart feel at ease 💗

i’m so grateful that you took a chance on this series when you don’t typically delve into them! butterfly bandage was my first time writing smth like this, and you’ve without a doubt made the experience such an unforgettable one. i kinda can’t believe it’s over too HAHA but i will always cherish this lil period of time and every kind word you’ve ever shared w me throughout it! i’m also itching to finally get the chance to read ur works, i’ve been eyeing invisible thread for over a month now but i strictly told myself i should finish bb first before allowing myself to indulge since i’m a horribly slow writer…now that we’ve reached this point at last, i’m ready to feast hehe 😽

thank you again from the bottom of my heart! i’m wishing you all the best angel, i hope all the happiness you’ve brought me comes back to you tenfold!

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 05

note: this is the final part of a series (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, themes of twin flames, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, themes of death/grief, more crying (sorry), nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, soft smut, mirror sex, lots and lots of praise, body worship, biting, marking, possessiveness, teasing, channie is very embarrassed, handjob, begging, just a little bit of crying, edging, reader and chan are kinda obsessively in love, unprotected sex, riding, cockwarming

word count: 17.3k

A call of your name from across the lab caught your attention, just as you were preparing to collect your materials and head out for the day. Fumbling with your bag, you zipped it up as quickly as you could and headed towards your lab instructor, already bracing yourself for a conversation that, based on your track record with her, was very likely to be disheartening.

She lowered the stack of papers she’d been holding as you approached her, revealing her smile—a rare sight for anyone who worked under her.

“Yes?”

“Congratulations,” she announced. “Your paper’s approved.”

Your eyes widened as she handed the stack to you, over twenty pages of blood, sweat, and tears. They felt heavy in your hands, heavy with the weight of everything that had been sacrificed for their completion. Just a few days ago, the news would’ve had you over the moon. It was all you’d been wanting to hear, all you’d been dreaming of since you’d first begun your studies. Now, it was nothing more than a shallow comfort, a single drop of sunlight that was immediately obscured by the shadows all around it.

“Great,” you said at last, flashing a strained smile. “Thank you, Professor.”

She gave you a pat on the back, and you tried to find solace in the proud shine in her eyes. “You did well,” she praised. “I’m sure you’ll excel in your next rotation, too.”

“My next…rotation?”

Your instructor glanced down at her clipboard, adjusting her glasses with a hum. “Since your research has been approved, there’s no need for you to remain at your current station. You’ve spent quite a bit of time with those binary pairs,” she added. “You’ll be doing interferometric imaging for the next few weeks. We’re a few people short.”

Something twisted inside you. “Really?”

She looked up from her notes, quirking an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“I…” you trailed off. There was nothing you could tell her that would be meaningful enough for her to let you stay—nothing that wouldn’t get you laughed at or even potentially dismissed from the lab for the rest of the semester. How on earth were you meant to explain that a pair of spectroscopic stars had come to mean so much to you? How on earth were you meant to explain what they signified in your mind?

“No, nothing,” you said weakly. “I’ll transfer my things tomorrow. Thank you.”

Your instructor nodded, and that was that. In the blink of an eye, you’d lost the final piece of what you’d had left of Chan.

You adjusted the strap of your bag, bowing quickly to her and turning to leave. Your pace quickened as you exited the lab, a wave of inexplicable emotions rising within you. It ushered you to head home as soon as possible, like it was a race against time, like you had to reach shelter before it crashed into the shore and drowned you in front of everyone.

A cold gust of air billowed past you as you pushed open the doors to the physics building. You squinted against it, burying your hands in your pockets. The sky was still covered with that same, gray sheet—much darker than it had been earlier in the week. The closer you studied it, the more it looked like the clouds might break at any given moment. All the more reason to rush home; you hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, and you fished it out of your pocket without thinking. Anything to distract you from this.

bin 😑 (2:27 p.m.) hey

bin 😑 (2:28 p.m.) is everything okay?

Just as you were about to close the notification, another came.

bin 😑 (2:30 p.m.) did something happen with chan?

You stopped in your tracks.

Did he really not know? Had Chan still not said anything to him? Was he keeping it all to himself? Suffering in silence, even now?

You didn’t have to question it for long. Of course he was.

Against your better judgment, you typed out a reply, fingers stiff from the cold and—for some reason—thumb burning.

you (2:33 p.m.) i’m fine bin don’t worry about me

you (2:34 p.m.) please just be there for chan

bin 😑 (2:36 p.m.) where have u been??? i was worried

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

He wouldn’t be worried anymore when he found out the truth.

bin 😑 (2:38 p.m) pls talk to me

You wanted to talk to him. You so badly wanted to talk to him—not even about everything that had transpired over the past four days, just in general. You wanted to tease him, to laugh with him, to share a meal with him, to chatter about the most trivial, most mundane of topics with him because you could, because you enjoyed each other’s company and nothing else.

You missed your friend. But he was Chan’s friend first and foremost; Chan’s little brother. Losing Chan meant losing Changbin. The moment he’d find out what you’d done, how you’d hurt the person he admired most in this world, he would look at you with that same, dark glare that had unsettled you so much on the day you’d first met. Only this time, it wouldn’t be misleading, masking the kindness underneath. It would be real, intentional. He would mean every bit of it.

Minho’s glares were one thing. The thought of Changbin looking at you the same way was more than you could take. There was no place for you in his life anymore.

A droplet landed on your screen, splattering water across it and blurring the words of his message. You looked up at the sky. The clouds had broken.

You were going to cry.

It was for the best, probably. A pot could only withstand so much before it boiled over.

You pulled the hood of your jacket over your head just as the rain began to fall more steadily, sinking to the ground and settling on the curb of the sidewalk. You gave up on outrunning the wave. For once, uncaring of the people around you. For once, allowing yourself to be an inconvenience.

Vaguely, you felt another buzz in your pocket; repeating, persistent. Changbin must have been calling you. Pressure rose in your chest. A strange sound built in your throat, an unpleasant, unfamiliar sensation pricked at your eyes. But before droplets of your own could well up in their corners, before you could release, the feeling of rain pattering relentlessly against your clothes came to a sudden halt, like something had passed over you, shielding you from it.

You didn’t bother to look up, praying that whoever it was whose presence you felt hovering above you, they’d take the hint and leave you alone. Just a moment to wallow in your misery. Just a moment to feel without worrying about anyone or anything else. Even now, that was too much to ask for, it seemed.

Through the roaring downpour, you barely caught it—soft, airy.

“It’s raining.”

Your blood ran cold, chilling you more than any of the water seeping through your clothing, right down to your bones.

Of course. You almost laughed out loud. Of fucking course.

This had to be some kind of joke, the universe’s cruel finale to everything it had put you through over the past three years.

“Go away.”

“Aren’t you gonna congratulate me for learning how to use an umbrella?”

You peered up through the mess of hair and fabric blocking your vision, fixing him with a look fiercer than any of the insults he’d ever hurled your way.

“Go away.”

His stare didn’t waver, face unchanging as always. It must’ve been so easy, to be so unaffected. It must’ve been so easy, to care so little. He blinked down at you, and—despite the static swarming your mind—through it all, you couldn’t help but notice that there was nothing harsh about the look he was giving you. Not quite warm, not quite cold. It was far from the self-satisfied expression of someone who knew he had been right all along. Of someone who knew that he had won.

“Come with me.”

You watched him blankly, too appalled to speak.

When you didn’t budge, he tilted his wrist, leaning his umbrella forward so that it covered you completely and exposed part of himself to the rain.

“I’ll get sick if you don’t.”

“Yeah? Brew yourself some yuja tea.”

His lip twitched into the beginnings of a smirk. Not smug, not condescending. Just faintly amused.

“That was pretty funny.” He tilted the umbrella further. The rain began to land on his hair, darkening it, weighing it down. “But I’m really starting to get cold, now.”

“I don’t care.”

He clicked his tongue. Still, he made no move to leave, not even to pull his umbrella back over himself. You might’ve been swayed by whatever approach he was taking if you weren’t too preoccupied with figuring out just how the hell you could get rid of this guy.

“By the way,” he added casually. “Changbin gave me something. I think it belongs to you?”

You cursed yourself for perking up so quickly, so obviously. It was only for a split second, but he caught on—of course he did—eyes glinting like a cat that had spotted its target in all your loose threads.

“What do you want?”

“Let’s talk,” he said. “Come with me, and the pencil’s all yours.”

You gave in. For whatever reason, Lee Minho had suddenly decided that you were now worth his time.

He didn’t offer his hand to help you come to full standing, but he kept the umbrella steadily above you as you rose from the curb, allowing himself to get drenched in the process. It almost made you grimace more than his usual behavior, solely because it felt so wrong. And, maybe, because you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Not even from someone like him.

As he led you down the sidewalk towards wherever he planned to take you, you inched away from him, back into the rain. He made no effort to move closer again, but you did notice his eyes flicker your way once or twice.

You shuffled awkwardly behind him, focus kept firmly on the pavement, feet kicking up water with every step you took. It wasn’t until the warm, addictive scent of freshly-ground coffee flooded your senses that you lifted your head with a start, just in time to see Minho wiping the bottom of his shoes on the campus library mat. He shook out his umbrella and stepped inside, seemingly debating for a moment whether or not he should hold the door open for you.

An ache gripped your heart, somehow, stronger than anything you’d felt over the past four days. It ached and throbbed and pulsed when you processed where you were headed. The table right across from the entrance, at the very back of the library.

You half-expected to find him there—shrouded in black, hunched over his laptop, one set of fingers playing with his lips, the other set tapping along to the melody of his music. But his seat was empty. He wasn't there anymore.

You tried to control the sheer enormity of your anguish as you approached its source. You’d already humiliated yourself enough in front of the last person you’d ever have wanted to witness it. Even if he didn’t seem nearly as delighted with your downfall as you’d imagined, the fact that he’d caught you more vulnerable than anyone else had before, more than Chan ever had, made your skin positively crawl.

Minho sat down with a heavy sigh, ruffling his hair in a half-hearted attempt to dry it out. He slipped off his drenched jacket, giving it a disgusted look before dropping it on the table.

“Want some coffee?”

“No.”

“It’ll warm you up.”

You narrowed your eyes. If you’d had any semblance of rationality left in your system, you would’ve told yourself that it was just an offhand comment, that he couldn’t possibly have known just how devoid of warmth you truly were. But you were far past that point. Everything he said was a trap and everything he did was a taunt.

When he saw that you had no plans to respond, he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Where’s my pencil?”

“Oh,” he sniffed. “I lied about that.”

You bristled. “What?”

“I don’t have it,” he clarified. “I lied so you’d come with me. Get it?”

You reached for your bag, preparing to leave.

“You can take it from Changbin yourself,” he continued. “Once this is all fixed.”

For once, the absolute certainty with which he spoke, like anything that came out of his mouth was a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled, wasn’t used to stir doubt within you. You froze in place. Whether it was a flash of hope, or a stubborn indignation that kept you rooted to your chair, you weren’t quite sure.

“Once this is fixed?” you echoed, rife with hostility. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? Chan hates me just as much as you do, now. You win.”

“I don’t hate you.”

You scoffed, expecting the lie—because it had to be a lie, a jeer, a vicious way to kick you while you were down—to be followed by that same scornful sneer that had become all too familiar for your liking.

But it never came.

Your disbelief was only met with a sincere, unbreaking expression. No games, no underlying meaning. A complete contrast to everything you associated with Lee Minho.

“Are you serious?”

“You don’t believe me?” he feigned hurt, which you had half a mind to be infuriated about considering the many, many worse things he’d assumed about you. “I mean it. I don’t hate you.”

You blinked.

“I probably could’ve,” he added unhelpfully. “If what I'd thought about you turned out to be true. But really, I just didn’t trust you.”

You grunted to at least acknowledge his confession, unsure of how else you should react. If that was how he treated the people he didn’t trust, you’d love to know what his hatred looked like.

You’d long told yourself not to take it personally, but for some reason, there was an undeniable sting there. Maybe it was because Minho was eerily perceptive, so much that this whole ordeal had planted the idea in your head that he had to be correct. Or maybe, it was because you’d always felt like there was a bit of truth to his impression of you, even before you’d met him, even before his opinion of you had sunk straight into the gutter. Having someone else say it out loud had just forced you to come to terms with it.

That constant voice in the back of your head, etching guilt into your mind. Telling you that you liked hurting the people who depended on you, that you liked to build them a safe haven and then crush it before their very eyes. Exactly what he had claimed you’d done to him.

Exactly what you’d done to Chan.

“Am I making things worse?” Minho tilted his head.

“No,” you answered, and it was mostly honest. “Go on.”

He said nothing, eyeing you for a moment longer. It put you on high alert. Similarly to Chan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was delving straight into your center—but unlike Chan, there was no comfort of being able to stare right back into his.

“You probably know this by now, but Chan is an easy target for a lot of people,” he began. Slow, deliberate, no playful lilt to it. “He can usually tell when he’s being mistreated, but even so, he puts up with it. He thinks he can make it all better.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, concentrating on the rain droplets that hadn’t yet dried from your hair. “Yeah, I know.”

I know better than you. The petty side of you wanted to tack on. But you decided against it, instead choosing to foster whatever kind of tentative truce was coming to fruition here.

Minho paused again. “Right.”

“So, what, you thought I was one of those people?”

“Mm.” Blunt as ever. “Like I said, I've seen the type before. And if Chan wasn’t going to do anything about it, then I was.”

He’d changed his wording, you noticed. It had been your type before, uttered with all the contempt and venom in the world. You wanted to find consolation in that subtle difference, but it didn’t stop the memory from rousing your defiance all over again.

“You think he can’t make decisions for himself?”

It was a risk—hypocritical, too, when you knew firsthand what kind of decisions Chan made for himself, when you knew firsthand the powerlessness of trying to get him to stop—but you said it anyway. Minho hummed, leaning back in his chair, as if the challenge in your words hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

“Of course he can,” he replied evenly. “Doesn’t make them right. When you see your friend make the same decision over and over and get hurt every single time, wouldn’t it be cruel to just sit by and watch?”

He looked off to the side, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought that he was—God forbid—trying to prevent you from possibly catching on to an emotion of his.

“That’s what real insanity is—isn’t that how the saying goes? Repeating the same thing and expecting different results.”

You knew, deep down, that his explanation made sense, and somehow, that only stung more. You felt wronged, like the collateral damage for all the people who had harmed Chan in the past. The fact that Minho had treated you so coldly out of the goodness of his heart wasn’t much of a reprieve. In a childish sense, it made things even worse, because now, your own negative feelings towards him felt unjustified.

That didn’t even begin to cover the fact that he had been right.

Every part of you wanted to object to him lumping you in with all the others as the same decision, but in the end, you were just another name on the endless list of people who had hurt Chan.

When he saw how long you’d gone silent for, Minho spoke up again, looking unsure of himself for what may very well have been the first time in his life.

“I’m…” he huffed. “Look, I was wrong.”

As always, what he said was the polar opposite of what you’d been thinking. It was almost comical, how the wavelengths the two of you operated on were so determined to be different in every conceivable way.

His ears, you noticed, had dusted red at the tips—the exact same way Chan’s would flare up when he was flustered. You hated how it weakened your resolve, how his mere association with Chan had you more than willing to accept his olive branch, however awkwardly shaped it was.

“Chan’s done a lot for me—for everyone. I just wanted to protect him.”

That was the point of convergence, the one, precious point where your waves intersected. The desire to keep Chan safe. You understood it better than anything else, and so, for that fleeting moment, you understood Minho. Still, your pride—something you’d repressed far too many times in your attempts to reconcile with him before—wasn’t quite ready to back down.

“But you barely even knew me,” you protested. “What did I do to make you decide that you hated me all of a sudden?”

“Didn’t hate you,” he corrected.

You pressed your lips together into an annoyed line. “What made you think I wanted to…to hurt him?”

Minho looked contemplative, and you found yourself worrying that he may simply decide not to tell you. You wouldn’t put it past him. It would be painfully on-brand, actually, at least with the version of him that you’d come to know.

“Chan came home crying.”

Your throat went dry.

“What?” you rasped. “When?”

“Back in July. The morning I got back from summer break.”

The morning after you’d first slept together. All at once, everything snapped into place—pieces of the puzzle that you hadn’t been able to connect, pieces that you hadn’t even known were missing in the first place.

“So, he comes home from your place, crying, with those marks all over his neck,” he explained. “It wasn’t the first time something like that happened. I put two and two together.”

You felt sick enough that you actually feared you might throw up, right there, on the library floor.

“I thought he must’ve landed himself in a bad spot again. With someone who only wanted to use him.”

“Why?” You gripped your soaked bag to your chest, with so much force that residual water began to dribble out of it. “Why was he crying?”

How did I hurt him? You wanted to add. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t I notice?

How could you have ever let this happen?

Minho hesitated, and you squeezed your eyes shut, not entirely certain that you even wanted to hear the answer.

“He was happy.”

Confusion. And then, relief. And then, confusion again. The turmoil must have been written all over your face, because Minho ever so graciously decided to elaborate.

“I didn’t find that part out until yesterday, though. Not much of a happy crier, myself.”

A fresh surge of anger overtook everything else you were struggling to comprehend. Thoughts of what could’ve been, of how it all might have turned out if it weren’t for the man in front of you. The man who had given you all the tools in chiseling your self-doubt to perfection, who had passed you the hammer to destroy what you loved most.

You wanted it to be his fault. It would be so easy to pin the blame all on him. But nothing was ever that easy. Nothing was ever that simple. Even without the right tools, you would’ve found a way to destroy it regardless. It was what you were best at.

“You didn’t bother to ask him!?” you snapped.

“Oh. You think I’m stupid.” A glimpse of his former sharpness. You had to stop yourself from saying yes, just to spite him. “Of course, I asked. More than once. But his answer was the same as always—he smiled and told me not to worry. He’d say it with a gun to his head.”

You frowned. It was too much to process at once, too much for your already worn-down brain to compute. All you could really make sense of was a gut feeling, an instinct, telling you that you’d made a horrible, horrible mistake.

“I talked to Chan yesterday,” he mellowed again, back to his usual, airy tenor. “He told me everything. He doesn’t seem to fully understand it, but I do.”

Minho locked eyes with you, deep, intense. No longer the look of someone that had decided you were guilty, but a look that warned you that he would know if you were lying to him.

“You care about him, don’t you?”

It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you nodded, anyway. Such a simple thing to admit to. How could such a simple thing have ever led to all of this?

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “That’s why I did it. I was afraid I’d end up…”

You took in a shaky breath.

“I just didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Ah, seriously.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and he laughed. Incredulous, dry, ending with an exhale. “You broke up with him because you didn’t want to hurt him? Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

Your face heated up. “You’re the one who thought I would in the first place!”

“But I was wrong.”

You were taken aback by how plainly he admitted to it, how that indestructible, stubborn pride of his was extinguished the instant he’d learned it had harmed someone he cared about. Even more troubling than that, was the fact that you could tell he was apologetic, even without him saying it outright. All of this, as annoyingly as he was going about it, was his apology to you. Changbin’s words—fond and reassuring and, now, truer than ever—reverberated in your mind. Soft at heart.

“People are supposed to help each other. You know that, right?”

You snorted at the absurdity of the question.

“Obviously.”

“So why are you so weird about it?”

“It’s different with Chan,” you insisted. “You said it yourself. He does so much—everyone takes so much from him. I didn’t want to do the same.”

“But that’s still not fair, is it?” he countered. “You’d just be giving everything instead. Chan doesn’t want that, either.”

You opened your mouth to argue, only for the words to die in your throat. There was no way to justify it without sounding ridiculous—maybe, because it was a bit ridiculous. But Chan was the exception, he would always be the exception. You would give everything to him because you knew he would never take it for granted. You would give everything to him because he’d already given everyone so much.

Because he’d given you so much.

Ah.

“God, you two are so—” Minho cradled head dramatically, sensing that you’d finally worked it out in your mind. “You’ve already got the hardest part figured out. Just learn to take once in a while. You’re not gonna die.”

“But he won’t change unless I do,” you muttered. “I know he won’t.”

He gave you a look of pure exasperation, as if the answer couldn’t have been more obvious.

“So, change.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The feeling of your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, courtesy of Bang Christopher Chan, was one you’d become well-acquainted with over the past seven months. But of all the times you’d experienced it, it’d never been quite like this. This was something else entirely.

A day to mull everything over after your conversation with Minho, a restless night spent trying and failing to map out how you could possibly approach the situation, and over an hour of pacing restlessly around your apartment—all useless in ebbing the adrenaline that coursed through your veins. Before the clock had even struck 10:00 a.m., you’d not only felt like you had run a marathon, but that you could run another for good measure.

You’d spoken to Changbin first. He at least deserved to know what was going on. He deserved an apology, even if the very real possibility that he would never speak to you again afterwards made your stomach churn. On a more selfish note—you figured today was as good as any to start with that—you’d also just really, really missed him.

As it turned out, he’d more or less come to grasp the situation, even when being protected from all angles. Between what little Minho had let slip, Chan’s avoidant behavior (to the surprise of no one, he’d hardly let Changbin know a thing) and your vaguely ominous texts, he’d gathered up enough bits and pieces for his genius intuition to fill in the gaps. The sound of his voice once you’d revealed what had happened in full; compassionate, calm—not an ounce of the disdain you’d resigned yourself to be met with so viciously—had almost been enough to make you choke up.

“You should’ve told me,” he’d chided. “Why do you love doing that to yourself? What, you think I’m not strong enough to lean on?”

You’d let out a long exhale, heavy with all the apprehension you released with it; relieved, embarrassed, resigned. “It’s not that, Bin,” you’d mumbled. “I didn’t want to trouble you. Not when Chan and Minho both mean so much to you.”

“And you think you don’t? C’mon, you’re supposed to be the smart one here.”

Naturally, it only added to your guilt, that you’d created such an uncharacteristically cruel image of him in your head. This was Seo Changbin, after all. A great talker, but an even better listener, and as much as he liked to tease Chan for his age, he had a level of emotional intelligence far beyond his years. A wisdom that you would probably do well to learn from whenever it bothered to make an appearance.

At the same time, however, this was Seo Changbin, the one man show, Leo incarnate. Once the relief of hearing back from you had eased his conscience (as much as it could, knowing how horribly tangled up everything had become), the theatrics had ensued.

“Dating my best friend is one thing, but breaking his heart is off limits!” he’d complained. It was mostly light. No real anger behind it, just plenty of highly-warranted frustration. “Not only that—breaking your own heart too! What am I supposed to do with two brokenhearted best friends? Hang out with Minho!?”

After a slew of loud, nagging, reprimands, and a very serious threat that Cinnamoroll would be held hostage until further notice, Changbin had let you go. For the first time in five days, you’d laughed. You’d never felt more grateful, or more stupid, in your life. He made it all sound so simple. Lee Minho, quite possibly the most convoluted piece of work you’d ever encountered in this world, had made it all sound so simple.

You could only hope that you hadn’t crushed it into something infinitely more complicated, something beyond repair.

The trembling of your fingers, coupled with that strange sensation in your thumb that had yet to go away, made it difficult for you to type properly. Still, you persisted, throwing caution to the wind. Caution had ruled over you for far too long, anyway.

you (10:03 a.m.) hi

you (10:04 a.m.) i understand if you want some space right now but if you can, i’d like to talk

You prepared to lock your phone, not expecting a reply for some time—if any at all. Even under normal circumstances, he didn’t always get back to you right away. But, well, maybe the fact that the circumstances were anything but normal should’ve been enough for you to know better, because you didn’t even get the chance to swipe out of your messaging app before you noticed three little dots below your chat bubble.

Appearing. Disappearing. Appearing. Disappearing. Just a sign of life from him, and your palms had grown clammy. With fear, anticipation, dread. The dread of being met with anything but love, anything but warmth.

Then, at last, a single word.

channie 🐺 (10:08 a.m.) about?

you (10:08 a.m.) everything us

This time, it took him longer to respond. Ignoring every instinct that screamed otherwise, you typed up another text. There was no use hiding. There was never any use hiding with him.

you (10:12 a.m.) i don’t think i can do this

Almost immediately.

channie 🐺 (10:12 a.m.) me neither

Your heart leapt. You didn’t want it to give you hope. He had every right, every reason in the world, to not give you the time of day. He could get his closure and leave you, just as you’d left him.

channie 🐺 (10:13 a.m.) i can be over in 10?

A million thoughts sparked to life at once. The question of why he was already so close by. The urge to insist that you go meet him instead. The sudden realization that you were in no way prepared to see him so soon.

But all of it, overwhelming as it was, didn’t hold a candle to your strongest desire—a desire that could never be subdued by anything else. To put Chan first.

you (10:14 a.m.) okay, sure see you soon

Get here safe, Channie. You added in your head.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Chan looked tired when you opened the door. Eyes dull, drooping, littered with traces of pink and lined with dark circles. A few stray curls peeked out from beneath his beanie. You prayed that the black hoodie he was wearing wasn’t the same one he’d had on five days ago. He looked so tired. Tired and cold.

His gaze met yours. Just for a heartbeat, then it fell to the ground. You wanted to think it was because he felt self-conscious, you wanted to think it was that shyness—that hopelessly endearing shyness that got the best of him no matter how many times he looked at you. You didn’t want to believe that he simply couldn’t stomach the sight of you anymore.

“Are you okay?”

Chan tensed. Then, he caught you eyeing the bandaid on his thumb. He brushed his finger over it absentmindedly. He’d thought the pain had faded until now.

“Yeah. Just cut my finger.”

Your expression changed.

“On accident.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “Does it hurt?”

“A bit.”

You reached up to tug at your ear. He swiped his thumb over his nose.

“I—” you swallowed. The moment he’d stepped through the door, everything you’d so carefully planned to say, every point you’d spent hours trying to piece together into something comprehensible, was immediately tossed out the window. You had to navigate this in real time. There was no map for it—the path to something better. The only place you’d ever journeyed was your own destruction.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out. “I think I messed up.”

He lifted his head. For once, unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

He knew what you meant, you were sure of it. But he wanted you to say it—needed you to say it. He needed you to dare to open yourself up to him, just as he had to you.

You understood now. That was the most important thing you could’ve ever given him, yet the one thing you’d refused to give.

“I’m not used to this,” you confessed. “I don’t know how to get used to it. You’re…you’re so good, Chan. To everyone. To me.”

Already, cracks were beginning to form in your composure. You had to keep it together, just enough to fix this. Just enough to hold the mirror up to him before it shattered.

“When someone that good comes into your life, you wanna do everything you can to keep them, y’know? I wanted to do everything for you.”

Chan’s breath caught in his throat, audibly, and you knew a protest was building on his tongue. So, you barreled through.

“It’s exactly because you’re so good that I got so scared. Because you wouldn’t just let me do it all for you like everyone else does.”

There was a pause, long and heavy enough for you to debate if you should just keep going, to air it all out and pray that at least some of it would come out sensical. But before you could, he spoke up, attentive as ever in what he chose to focus on. He narrowed it down like second nature, sought out the most essential part. The root of it all.

“You were scared?”

You winced. “I…yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Whatever remained of your heart from the past few days was effectively smashed into pieces. An apology from the last person on earth you needed to hear it from. An apology from someone who was owed so many apologies. From you, from himself, and from countless others who would never have to say it.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I drove you to this, didn't I?” he whispered. “I thought about it the past few days—talked with Minho about it. I put you in a position you didn’t want. It’s my fault.”

“Oh, Channie,” it slipped out so naturally, with such ease, you didn’t even have the chance to second-guess yourself. “Your only fault is the way you treat yourself.”

Chan didn’t appear convinced. He shuffled his feet from side to side, hands heavy in the pocket of his hoodie. Restless, ashamed. Still not looking you in the eye. You weren’t grateful for it anymore; you missed his gaze. Dark and reflective, kind and curious. Seeing right through you, even with all its flickering around.

“Maybe I needed to be put in that position,” you continued. “I was just too much of a coward to take it. B-because you were right. I try to be everything for people, then I end up being nothing. I was so afraid I was going to do that to you—or even worse. I was afraid I was going to be the one taking everything from you.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he sounded so helpless, like you were communicating in two completely foreign tongues. No room for speaking in riddles. “I saw every little way you cared for me. Always. Did you think I didn’t?”

Challenging him meant challenging yourself. You’d taken the plunge acutely aware of that fact, this time. Still, the panic rose in your chest all over again, the itch in your feet goaded you to turn and run.

“I know you did. And that’s more than enough for me.” You forced yourself to take a step forward instead, desperate to get through to him, desperate to reach him. “But when you do these things for me at your own expense…when you don’t tell me about it, don’t you see how that could scare me? As someone who cares about you?”

In all the time you’d known Chan, you’d never once have guessed that he could be so difficult. But if that unshakeable stubbornness would emerge over anything, of course it would be this. He would never make things difficult for anyone but himself. You still remembered how plainly he’d said it, how bleak and merciless and cold it had been: “It doesn’t matter.”

You could tell he sensed how on-edge you were, how laughably out of your element something like this was for you. But you were pushing yourself—for him. So, like a true reflection, he matched you.

“I guess I was scared, too,” he admitted quietly. “It’s been the only thing I know how to do for so long. I thought…I-I thought you’d leave if I did anything else. Because why else would you stay, y’know?”

You’d known it. Even before he’d bared himself to you, even before you’d had the knowledge to connect all the dots, you’d felt it, deep within you. But that didn’t make hearing him say it out loud any less devastating.

“I don’t love you because of what you can do for me, Chan.”

His eyes shot up at last. Wide, intense, searching. Realigning with you. A break in the fog that had been clouding your view of each other for the past five days.

It may have been unfair—cruel, even—to say now. But you needed him to hear it, even if this was the end of the road for you and him. You needed to at least plant the seed in his mind with the hopes that one day, with enough care, it might sprout into something beautiful.

“You’re worth so much as you are,” you tried to get a handle on the shake creeping into it. “You do so much for me just by being yourself.”

Chan blinked. Pupils darting between you and the floor, hands slipping from his pockets, face muscles twisting in an internal conflict. You could see him physically exerting all his willpower to not reject the idea—to dare to accept a love so unconditional, solely so that you might accept it in return.

“If I told you the same thing,” he began slowly. “Would you believe me?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “I can learn to believe it.”

His fingers flexed. You realized for the first time how close the distance between you and him had become—drifting towards each other involuntarily. That inevitable, magnetic pull, more powerful than any of the forces you’d studied in four years.

“Okay.” He was reaching out for you. “Then, how about we learn together, yeah?”

Your heart jumped against your ribcage. Over his words. Over the sight of his pinky, held out in earnest despite you giving it such little reason to ever do so again, waiting patiently to curl against yours.

You’d believe in anything that connected you to him.

“Together.”

Just as quickly as things had fallen apart, the foundation was laid out for them to be put back together. A steady foundation, built to last. Your belief that day had turned out to be true, after all. Everything always worked out when you talked to Chan. When you leaned into him. When you didn’t run.

Heat rippled through you the instant your fingers entwined, fiercer, more all-consuming than even the first time you’d ever touched. Still, neither of you pulled away. For the first time in five days, you were warm again.

The new, unspoken promise igniting to life between you reminded you of another; one that you’d let sit on your ledger for far too long. One you’d made so carelessly to the boy who deserved all the care in the world. The boy who treated you with all the care in the world.

“I’m going to be more selfish from now on.” You tightened your hold on his pinky, creating a fresh buzz of heat. “Because I want you to be, too.”

You thought you were hallucinating it for a second, the beginnings of a grin on Chan’s face. Soft cheeks rising, not enough to draw out his dimples or eclipse his eyes, but enough to make you certain of your decision. The key you’d tossed out a year and a half ago was in that smile.

“Guess I’ve got no choice but to mirror you.”

“That’s right,” any firmness it might’ve had was lost to a smile of your own. Exhausted, but tragically enamored with the boy in front of you. “Since you wanna be my other half so bad, and all.”

He giggled. Short, sweet, playing the strings of your heart like a harp. Or, rather, its melody was the sound of your heart.

“I’m gonna tell you some things,” you warned. “And they’re not going to be nice. Or good. Is that okay?”

“Anything.” He unhooked his pinky from yours, only to wiggle his sleeve back and weave all of your fingers together instead. Five fingers, one for each of the days you’d spent apart. Your palm pressed against his, pumping faintly with your quickening pulse. “Tell me anything.”

You inhaled. Better to start with something smaller, first. A test run in this whole emotional openness thing.

“About Minho…”

“He gave you plenty of trouble, didn’t he?”

You puffed out a soft laugh. “Well, I gave him some back.”

“I scolded him,” Chan mumbled. “A lot. Bin did, too.”

You tried not to feel too satisfied about it. The idea of Chan, so doting, so unabashed in his adoration for the younger boy, rebuking him, addressing him with anything but overflowing fondness. You would take it as a small, private victory—one that Minho didn’t need to know about now that you’d both chosen to bury the hatchet.

“But…I hope you won’t think badly of him. He means well, really. He’s—”

“Soft at heart, right?” you finished for him. “It’s okay, we talked it out in the end. I think."

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, he told me.”

You could’ve laughed. Lee Minho. You never thought you’d see the day where the mention of him wouldn’t be promptly followed by a wave of absolute revulsion. You wondered if he was the reason Chan had even agreed to see you today. You wondered if he was the reason Chan had only been ten minutes away from your apartment before you’d even sent him a message.

“I just wish you’d told me.”

I wish you’d told me. They were words you’d said to him so many times, words you’d wanted to say on even more occasions. But it was in your hands, now. You were in each other’s hands, now. You didn’t have to wish anymore.

“I know.” You gave his palm a squeeze. “But you can see why I didn’t, right?”

He nodded, sheepish, well aware that it was a pointed question.

“A lot of the things Minho did were to protect you,” you murmured. “But, a lot of the things he said were things someone else once said to me. I guess it made them easier to believe.”

Chan’s thumb glided delicately across the back of your hand. You knew he could predict where this was going.

“When you told me about what happened two years ago, I think I related to you a lot. I think it was one of those shared experiences you talked about.”

Each sentence felt like it was being dragged out of you, uprooted. But it was necessary. Clearing the weeds out to make room for something less parasitic—maybe, even flowers. “My last relationship was with someone who took a lot out of me, too. He needed someone to depend on. I…I wanted to be that for him.”

“I know you did.” Gentle, sad. A tenderness for you and, hopefully, himself. It gave you the strength to keep going.

“He needed so many things, felt so many things. All his emotions became mine until I didn’t have any for myself,” you were losing control of your voice again. “I didn’t understand how you could ever blame yourself for what that girl did to you. But, really, I’ve always blamed myself, too. Because I let him rely on me. I promised to be everything for him, then I left.”

“But he never let you rely on him, did he?” Chan didn’t miss a beat, like he already knew the answer. “He wanted you to carry it all yourself.”

You averted your stare. “M-maybe. And maybe I wanted that, too. Some people just need more support than others, y’know? I thought I could handle it.”

You always thought you could handle it, even when every past experience proved otherwise. That was yet another thing Minho had been right about. You’d driven yourself mad repeating the same cycle over and over again, deluding yourself into thinking it could ever turn out any different.

“Nobody needs no support at all,” he pointed out. “Not even someone as strong as you.”

Strong. Hearing the word come out of his mouth—his perfect mouth, in that light, melodic voice—pricked at your eyes. It was a term you’d never once thought to describe yourself with. It was the exact opposite of everything you’d come to believe about yourself. You wanted to reject it, to crush the idea before letting it get to your head. But how could you, when it came from the strongest person you knew? How could you do anything but cling to it, cherish it?

“I don’t know if I’m strong,” you muttered, blinking away what was sure to come eventually. “It’s just that every time I’ve tried to lean on someone, they let me fall. So it’s better to stand on my own.”

“Yeah. I understand."

You knew that much was true. You knew, painfully well, how much he understood. And you knew he still thought you were strong.

“I…” Everything had been put into place—or, rather, everything had been properly displaced—for the dam to break loose. Tentatively, lovingly, he was helping you pull out each log. It filled you with fear, down to every last fiber of your being, but you knew that you could break in front of him. He wouldn’t crumble with you. He wouldn’t shatter over the mere prospect of you expressing an emotion of your own. He’d let you release, and when it was all over, he’d help you pick up the pieces. Just as you had with him.

“I lost my friend last year.”

“Lost…?”

“I mean, she passed away—last summer. She was in an accident back home.”

Such a common way to die for someone who was anything but. Such a special person to become part of such an ordinary statistic. Chan’s face morphed into something heartbreaking, a look that told you he felt everything you were feeling in that moment. The gears were turning in his head, you could see it unfolding through your blurred vision. That was why you hadn’t wanted to return home over the summer. That was why you’d come back to him so soon.

“I’m so sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t only giving his condolences, he was apologizing for ever cornering you to reveal it. For forcing you to unveil the wound that had been festering for so long. Bleeding with no signs of stopping, neglected with no signs of healing.

“It’s okay, I—” A lump rose in your throat. “I need to talk about it, I think. Never really did.”

His hand tugged at yours, just barely, uncertain. Always hesitant to pull you as close as he really wanted. You leaned forward all at once, falling into him. And he caught you.

“Never?”

“I tried once.” You rested your head against him, and his arms locked securely around you straight away. No room for you to fear, even for a second, that he might let you fall. “I tried to tell him. He always said he felt bad that he wasn’t there for me like I was for him. B-but…” The wave was rising again. “He just left.”

You couldn’t see Chan’s expression, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. You didn’t want to know what anger might look like on such an angelic face. But you could feel it, his jaw clenching, his muscles tensing. You figured he must look something like you had that night in October, struggling to maintain the delicacy in your movements as he revealed things that had filled you with a protective fire.

“He left?” Chan repeated, strained. “He left you like that?”

“Yeah. I-I guess it made him feel worse to be there.”

His hand began to run slowly up and down your back; drawing out your pain and soothing it simultaneously. When he spoke again, his tone was softer. He’d put his anger to the side, just as you had that night. “It must have been lonely for you.”

Lonely. Something else you’d never once considered. Something else that became so obvious only once he’d said it. You’d always been surrounded by people, but they were all flocking to a version of you that didn’t exist. A version you’d let them believe was real, because that was so much easier. Maybe the version of you, in your truest form, had been lonely.

“A little.” You buried your nose into his hoodie. No scent of sweet citrus today, no vanilla cherry blossom. Just him. “I think she’s the only one I could’ve talked to about it. She…she was a lot like you, in some ways.”

Something seemed to dawn on Chan, because he gripped you a little tighter, pulled you impossibly closer. The realization that the universe had taken away the only person you’d ever come to rely on. Of course you would be terrified to ever let anyone take that role again.

“She sounds exactly the kind of friend you deserve,” his voice rumbled softly where you rested against his chest. “You can tell me about her. About it all. I’m here to listen.”

“I want to,” you took in a sharp inhale. “But I think I’m going to cry.”

“You can do that, too.”

The wave engulfed you in full. For the first time since the day you’d lost her, you allowed yourself to cry over her.

Given how long you’d been holding it in, it didn’t come out nearly as explosive as you’d expected. The tears slipped from your eyes and down your cheeks without a sound, but they came and came and came. Each hot stream was immediately followed by a fresh one, a buildup of all the sorrow you’d kept sealed inside you for the past year and a half, and all the years before that. You didn’t sob or wail or scream out, but with how tightly Chan was holding you, you were certain he felt every tremor, every subdued hiccup, every droplet soaking through his clothes.

“It’ll be okay, one day,” he promised. “You’ll remember all the happy times with her. That’s something you can never lose.”

You hoped it was true. You hoped that one day, you could step off the train in your hometown, take in the pine-tinged summer air, pick a chrysanthemum from that flower stall, and remember her with that warm, glowing ball of light you used to carry in your chest.

Chan didn’t stop rubbing your back the entire time you cried. He didn’t stop enveloping you in his warmth. He didn’t stop humming sweetly in your ear.

He didn’t leave.

The tears eventually stopped flowing, not because it didn’t hurt anymore—you just didn’t think your body could keep up. No amount of tears could ever live up to your grief for her. But your breathing slowed, your shaking steadied, and, as much as your head positively throbbed, a sense of tranquility came with it, one you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt.

“Thank you, Channie,” you mumbled. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

After everything you’d put him through the past five days, after he’d listened to you so intently and patiently as you poured your heart out, after he’d comforted you when he was still in such a fragile state himself, he was thanking you. It was hopeless. You would fall in love with him over and over again, every moment you spent with him.

“Have you…” he hesitated. “Have you ever thought about talking to someone? About everything?”

“No,” you choked out a sad laugh. “Not really.”

Chan hummed again, quiet. He rested his hand on the back of your head, as if to pull you so far into him that you’d meld fully together.

“You shouldn’t torture yourself anymore,” he murmured.

“Neither should you.”

So immediate, so resolute, it made him stiffen against you.

“My stuff doesn’t compare to any of this.”

“That’s not true. You’ve only told me the half of it, haven’t you?” You curled your fingers a bit tighter around his hoodie. “You've been through so much to become this strong, haven’t you?”

The peaceful drag of his hand finally stopped. When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. He'd been holding it together up until now, for you, even if your every tremble and sniffle made his chest ache like your pain was his own.

“Maybe,” he rasped.

“So, let’s work towards something better. Together.”

“Together,” he agreed.

You raised your head at last, squeezing your eyes shut so that any remaining trace of tears trickled free. Chan reached up to swipe the droplets away with his thumb, soaking his bandaid. Still, neither of you let go. There were so many things to let go of, but not each other.

“I finished Placebo,” he said softly. “Do you want to hear it?”

The final promise that had yet to be fulfilled.

“Yeah,” you smiled. Weak, a piteous sight, probably, but genuine. “It makes me happy.”

You were lulled back to that day in April, seated next to Chan in the warm, coffee-infused atmosphere of the library, trying not to fall head over heels in love with him right then and there while he played the instrumental for you with a giddiness so uncontainable that he had to bite down on his fist. As you heard Placebo’s lyrics for the first time—lyrics that had gone through countless rearrangements, rewrites, and delays—you decided it must’ve been fate that it had been brought to completion now, of all times. You felt Chan in every line, every vitalizing beat, every nostalgic melody of the synth. You understood it better now than you ever would have back then.

But just as you’d predicted on that warm day in April, it became your new favorite.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The sun had been shining for two days straight. Bright, unobstructed by a single cloud, bathing everything in gold. It filtered through the blinds of your window, casting a delicate pattern of light on Chan’s face and creating quite possibly the most breathtaking view you’d ever seen. And you were warm. Warm against each other.

His curls were free, messy, tousled as you combed through them. You relished in every ringlet dancing between your fingers, in each content sound he let slip when your nails grazed his scalp. You brushed his bangs back, revealing his face to you in full—droopy eyes, big, adorable nose, soft cheeks, faintly freckled skin, every feature illuminated with nowhere to hide—then allowed them to fall into his eyes once more. The dark locks moved as one, a fluffy unit. He wasn’t taking care of them properly. You wanted to wash them again, give them the treatment they deserved.

Chan watched you the entire time you played with his hair, curious, mesmerized. Every flop of his curls against his forehead made him giggle, and so, you did it again and again. You couldn’t help it. After five days without him, without that sweet, harmonious sound, you could listen to him laugh for hours on end and still yearn for more.

But his lips were getting poutier with every card of your fingers, his thighs were shifting beneath you more and more. Impatient, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t have to say a thing for you to hear him willing you to do it, begging you to do it. So, you leaned in and kissed him.

He sighed into it, just like he always did. But it was higher in pitch this time, involuntary, a neediness he typically tried to suppress until later down the line when it grew into something unbearable. He was already so vocal, so responsive, but today, he needed you more than ever. Every gap, every crevice between your bodies, he needed filled with you.

His lips consumed your senses, plush and plump and warm. They moved against yours seamlessly, encasing you in his softness, matching your rhythm, every part and pucker. So attentive, even through his haze of longing. It was familiar, the most natural thing in the world, yet still something you’d never get used to—something you never wanted to get used to. How his lips chased yours so insatiably, how they warmed you to your very core.

You were both breathless when you broke apart. That was nothing new either, you would kiss each other until your lungs cried out and then some. With the way Chan hardly pulled back, mouth ghosting just a centimeter away as you panted lightly in unison, you might’ve thought he needed to kiss you more than he needed oxygen. You took his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling delicately just to get a taste of him while the two of you caught your breath.

“Missed you,” he whimpered. “God, I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

“I know, baby.”

Giving his bottom lip a light tug, you released it. You could tell his head was starting to go fuzzy, it was far more important for you to speak clearly. You rested your hand on his curls again, trying to keep yourself composed for his sake—even if your body was screaming for you to take him back and take him back now. “I know. I missed you, too.”

“Don’t leave me, please?” For once, a selfish request.

He pecked the corner of your mouth as he said it, then your jaw, growing less controlled the further down he moved. He was getting lost in you, he wanted to lose himself in you and never find his way out again.

“Never,” you assured him.

“Promise?”

He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lips pressing urgent kisses to every spot of flesh they touched. Gentle and intense, hot and wet. They cooled your skin and set it ablaze, all at once.

You’d gone five days without each other before—even longer, on particularly hectic weeks—but it had never been anything like this. After the emptiness that came in your time apart, the holes that had been left behind where you’d ripped yourself away from him, you wanted every kiss absorbed into your skin, filling them up one by one. You found yourself wondering, for what was neither the first nor the last time, how you’d ever managed to trick yourself into thinking you could be without him. You couldn’t even take him in moderation.

“I promise,” you murmured. “I'm not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chan whined, opening his mouth against the edge of your collarbone, sucking, tongue flickering lightly against it. You allowed him to, petting his head, humming sweetly to him as he covered every inch he roamed with that irresistible heat.

His restlessness beneath you grew more obvious—squirming. He ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling and grabbing and holding onto you like you might disappear if he didn’t. His usual hesitance to touch was nowhere to be found today, far overpowered by his hunger for you. You adjusted your position in his lap, and the beginnings of his desire brushed against your thigh, adorably transparent as always. It made your own self-control slip just a bit. Suddenly, his clothes were forming far too thick of a barrier between you and him for your liking.

You pulled gently at his hair, catching his attention enough for him to lift his head from your neck. His lips were already swelling, deepening from that pretty pink shade into something even more addictive. His eyes were dark, dilated, and so hopeful, like he didn’t already know where this was going. Like he had no idea that you craved him every bit as much as he craved you.

“It’s getting warm, huh, Channie?”

“Mhm.” He rested his cheek against your palm. “You’re so warm.”

“Let’s get you out of this, then.” You reached down to dip your fingers under the hem of his sweater. Reluctant to let go for even a moment, Chan kept his hands close to you, wiggling around as best as he could to help you slip the garment off. He blinked his eyes open once you’d pulled it over his head, catching a glimpse of his reflection in your dresser mirror, directly across from where the two of you sat tangled up in each other. It made his stomach drop a bit. Hair unkempt, eyes sunken, face puffy from what was a concerning lack of rest over the past week, even by his standards.

His gaze averted, flickering right back to you the instant he took in his appearance. Brief as the action was, it wasn’t lost on you, twisting your emotions and resurfacing an idea in your mind—one that had been brewing ever since the day of the showcase, where Chan had avoided looking into the bathroom mirror like his life depended on it.

You cupped his cheeks, pushing them together just enough for his lips to pucker.

“You’re glowing, Channie,” you marveled. “You’re so beautiful.”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not.”

You pressed your thumbs into his skin, chiding. “The light’s hitting your face so perfectly. You look like an angel.”

Chan’s breath quickened, another deflection building in his throat. You slid your hands down from his face, allowing the golden rays of the sun to fully illuminate him, just as they illuminated the moon.

“I…” he chuckled. “Th-thank you, but I’m a mess.”

You frowned, placing your hands over his. Panic struck when you urged him to unlatch his fingers from your hips, you could tell by the way he gripped you just a bit tighter. It was another pang to your chest. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, that reflex had been ingrained. But you weren’t going to leave him, not even for a second. You kept your hands firmly rested on his shoulders as you hoisted yourself off his lap and settled down right behind him on the mattress. Comforting him with your touch, reminding him that you were there.

You peered into the mirror from over Chan’s shoulder, met with the gorgeous sight of his bare upper half and, unsurprisingly, his head ducked in embarrassment. A mop of dark curls shielding him from himself.

“You should try looking at yourself through my eyes,” you suggested. “You might like what you see.”

He glanced up to meet your stare in the mirror, stubbornly set on ignoring his own figure. You dragged your hands along his tense shoulders, feeling up the warm expanse of skin, the curves of his muscles—taut, yet tender.

“Rather look at you,” he said softly.

Affection swelled inside you, but you were determined to maintain your resolve, even when faced with an opponent as formidable as Chan’s oblivious charm.

“Why?” You faked a pout. “You’ve already got such a pretty view right here.”

You lowered yourself to brush your lips against his neck, almost completely out of sight. He all but jolted as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss right below his jawline, just as reactive as your first night together. Just as honest and open and just as painfully cute. Your hand slipped over his shoulder to take hold of his chin, tilting it up, exposing his throat fully to you and encouraging him to look at himself.

“You’re a gorgeous boy, Channie.” Your words melted right into his ear. “Everyone can see it.”

You pressed another kiss to the juncture of his shoulder and neck—his weak spot. With how sensitive he was, every part of his body may as well have been his weak spot, but the sound he let out as you grazed your teeth over it was like no other. Sweet and pleading in the back of his throat. It spiked in volume when you closed your mouth over the patch of skin, unconcerned this time over whether or not the mark would show. He wanted it to. And, selfishly, so did you.

“I-I don’t see it,” he stuttered at last. “I can’t.”

Your tsk of disapproval was met with another shaky sigh as you ran your tongue over the fresh lovebite. It soothed his burning skin, fogged up any remaining space in his head. You took a moment to admire the blooming red ring before gliding your lips over to a new spot to sully. He was yours, even untouched, but you wanted to leave traces of yourself everywhere, to make him a part of you in every sense.

“Look at yourself, baby,” you ordered gently.

His Adam's apple bobbed under your mouth, swallowing down his misgivings and finding the courage to comply. Before he even locked eyes with himself in the mirror, his ears were already flushing at their tips.

“There we go. Good boy.”

The praise eased his mind a bit, but you could still feel his heartbeat racing under your kisses, pulsing beneath your traveling fingers. All simply because of the sight of himself—a sight you wanted engraved permanently into your memories, just as badly as he wanted it removed from his.

“Look at all these muscles. So big and strong.” You flattened your palms against his broad shoulders, trailing slowly, appreciatively, down to his biceps. Arms you used to dream about having bulge beneath your hands. Arms you had at your mercy, even in all their strength. Because it was a strength used solely to protect others, never to harm.

You wrapped your fingers around the defined muscles, too large to even close your grip entirely around. They flexed under your touch—a detail you found adorable, strangely enough.

“D-do you…” Chan licked his lips. “D’you like them?”

You smiled against his skin. Such an endearingly Chan question. Setting himself up for a response that he wouldn’t be able to handle; a response that was sure to set his face on fire and put a stammer in his speech.

“I might like them too much,” you admitted. “So pretty to look at. So irresistible to touch. So cute when I hold them down,” you mumbled the compliments between each kiss you peppered along his arm veins, protruding from his nervous hold on the sheets. “So strong, but so weak for me.”

Chan’s reaction didn’t disappoint, cheeks heating up instantly to match the burn of his ears, dimples making a timid appearance. Anything he attempted to say was lost in the shy, breathless laugh he sputtered out. You knew right about now that he was wishing he had some kind of cap, beanie—anything to pull over his face and hide away. To hear your doting words without having to face himself. Maybe then, he’d believe them.

“You work so hard, don’t you, Channie?” you cooed. “Such a strong, beautiful body for a strong, beautiful boy.”

“A-ah…please.” Chan fought back the impulse to cross his arms over his torso, solely because he didn’t want to lose the feeling of your mouth ravishing them. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed, too flustered to bear. Your hands found his chest without warning, cupping his pecs and making him squeak. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, a split second too late in trying to mask the pitiful noise.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You dug your nails delicately into his chest, just enough to make him shudder. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

To that, he didn’t object. “Yours, ‘m all yours.” It was eager, immediate, accompanied by a tilt of his head. Urging you to make it known, to leave marks of yourself all over his neck until it belonged just as much to you as it did him.

“All mine.” You rolled his nipples delicately between your fingers, earning a broken whimper that made heat pool in your stomach. “My pretty boy.”

Chan jerked forward, every intoxicating word of praise, every drop of your attention making his arousal skyrocket. With his eyes still shut tight, all his other senses were on high alert. The serene sound of your voice reverberated all around him, the deliberate care of your touch sent tremors up his spine. You roamed further down his body, fingertips dancing over his lean abdomen, tracing the outlines of his muscles. His stomach clenched as you did; exhilarated, rising and falling with each rapid breath. He felt so vulnerable—all his pleasure, all his comfort, all his worth in the palm of your hand. More exposed than ever, yet somehow, safer than ever. He could stay blind through it all and trust you to guide him to the other side.

“Open your eyes for me, baby.”

He pressed his lips together, protest cut short when you inched dangerously close to where he needed you most.

“There,” he gasped out. “There, please.”

Mischievously, you pinched the skin right above his waistband, satisfaction rushing through you when he throbbed in the confines of his sweatpants. “Where?” you questioned, deceptively innocent. “You have to look and see.”

You drifted further down, skimming the softness of his hips and stroking his tensed thigh. “Here?”

“No,” he huffed, face scrunching in frustration. “Please, ‘s too embarrassing.”

Your hum was full of sympathy, but your hand said otherwise, moving along his inner thigh and giving it a light squeeze. “How about here?”

You knew what was coming by now. So, you snaked your legs around his waist from behind, prying his thighs apart before they could clamp together reflexively. The added contact only made Chan’s composure weaken further, a low groan spilling out of him. Practically every part of your body was pressed against his—head tucked into his neck, chest rubbing against his back, hands grasping him wherever they slid, thighs resting on his—but it wasn’t enough. He needed more before he crumbled completely against you. Or, rather, he needed more to crumble completely against you.

His eyes snapped open at last, hazy, disoriented. He blinked a few times to readjust his vision, taking in the view before him. His puffed, rosy cheeks, his neck, painted with deep, crimson marks, his arms and torso, lined with the faint drag of your nails. Every part of himself that he chose to focus on was evidence of you on his body.

“Beautiful,” you said firmly.

“Ah…th-thank you.”

His reflection peered back at him, nowhere to hide. But with it, he found his other reflection, one he could admire so wholeheartedly, one he could never run out of things to love about. When at your side, maybe he didn’t look so bad.

Your lips were by his ear again, he felt your breath fanning softly next to it, saw your mouth opening unexpectedly close to his piercing—so close that he thought you may take it between your teeth again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain himself if you did.

“Where do you want me to touch you, Channie?” you whispered.

His stare dropped to your hand, more than ready for any excuse to redirect his attention from himself. You rubbed gentle circles into his thighs, traveling upwards at an agonizingly slow place. Chan sucked in through his teeth, a fresh wave of embarrassment passing over him when his dick twitched again, as if it was crying out the answer for him.

“My baby’s so shy,” you remarked playfully. “But your body isn't.”

He squirmed between your legs with a sound of pure helplessness, too worked up to handle your teasing properly—not that he ever really handled it well, in the first place.

“P-please, need you so bad.”

You softened. “I’m here.”

His eyes followed your movements in a glimmer of hope, fixated on your hand like a puppy would with its favorite treat. When you came to brush over his bulge at last, his hips shot forward, pressing into your palm in a way that made your stomach flutter, and his twist with pleasure. He didn’t even have the chance to feel humiliated about it, not when you finally curled your fingers around him like he’d been longing for so intently, so fiercely that even thinking straight had become a challenge for him.

“Is this it?” you asked sweetly.

“Mmph, yes. There, please.”

You gave him a squeeze, feeling up the shape of his length through his sweatpants. So hard without a single touch to it, more than ready for you—desperate for you. It made the ache between your own legs take over in full. Restraint slipping, you dipped your fingers below his waistband to tug his sweatpants off. Chan reacted immediately, scrambling to raise himself from the mattress just enough for you to slide them down along with his underwear. You couldn’t even find the patience in you to remove the garments entirely, instead letting them rest halfway down his legs.

Chan’s gaze flickered back to you in the mirror, just in time to catch the way your eyes gleamed at the sight of his bare body. Length glistening with precum, pressed and dripping against his stomach. Milky thighs, dotted with delicate moles you could kiss endlessly. But you wanted to leave a different kind of mark on them, today. You ran your hands along his flesh—gentle, pacifying—then dragged your nails back up all at once, raking his skin and leaving a trail of pale lines that quickly deepened in shade. Chan inhaled sharply, throwing his head back against your shoulder, muscles constricting under your fingers.

“Pretty little thing,” you crooned. “You’re unreal.”

There was no time for him to recover—not from the delicious sting on his thighs, not from your doting words—before you took his cock into your hold at last. It sent a ripple of heat all throughout his body, almost enough to make him unravel right then and there.

You gave him a few careful pumps, delighted by the sheer amount of wetness that had dribbled from his tip, allowing you to move with ease. Using your free hand, you nudged his head from your shoulder to direct him back to the mirror. Despite knowing full well that the visual he’d be met with would turn his brain to mush, he obeyed. He would do anything you so much as suggested in that moment.

“You’re just like that moon you love so much,” you murmured. “You know that, Channie?”

It pierced through the lust occupying his thoughts, pulling him out from his haze just enough to string together a feeble response. “What—ah. What d’you mean?”

He tried not to let the sight of your fingers, sticky with his arousal, gliding up and down his most intimate spot, twisting and teasing in all the right ways like you knew his body better than he did, distract him from what you said next. If there was anything to focus on, it was you.

“The moon can only see itself reflected in the water.” You swirled your thumb along his slit, using your other hand to run the pads of your fingers tenderly along his cheek. The combination was enough to make him dizzy. So much love, so much pleasure. He didn’t know how to handle it. He would never know how to handle it. “It doesn’t see its own beauty or light. Just the way it gets distorted by the ripples all around it.”

Before he could even fully process the comparison, Chan’s eyes began to water. This time, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was happiness imbued in those tears. A happiness the both of you still needed adjusting to.

“So, look at yourself clearly, now,” you encouraged, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Look at your reflection when it isn’t broken.”

It may have been too much for him at once; such adoration amidst everything else he was experiencing. The stimulation to every last one of his nerve endings, the bliss consuming his body and mind, robbing him of any coherent thought. But you needed to say it just as much as he needed to hear it. You wanted all the pleasure, all the love he felt in that moment to be associated with himself.

“O-oh, wow,” he choked out. “I…I don’t…”

I don’t deserve this. You could hear it on the tip of his tongue, clear as day. But he was too awestruck to protest, too awestruck to even speak. You felt a tinge of protectiveness—he was so far gone.

“D-dunno what to s-say,” he stammered. You knew it was taking every ounce of his strength not to bury his face into the crook of your neck, to let himself go completely and forget about anything that wasn’t you.

“It’s okay, Channie. You don’t have to say anything. Just look.”

You studied him in the mirror, nearly melting when you noticed him blinking the few, fragile droplets from his eyes—listening diligently to you, clearing his vision from any water that might distort it. He drank in his reflection in full, stiff, uneasy, but relaxing slightly between your legs when you pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“So pretty, every inch of you.” Your hand resumed its stroking, sliding down to the base of his length, cupping him gently. “Even prettier when you’re filling me up.”

“Oh my gosh,” he gasped, jerking in your grip. Even with the mirror there to guide him, he struggled to coordinate his hand movements, pawing aimlessly behind him to find some part of you to grab onto, some part of you to anchor himself with. “Please, please. Wanna feel you.”

“I know, baby boy,” you shushed him. “You’re dripping so much. Poor thing.”

You dragged your index finger along the underside of his cock one last time before pulling away with a light flick. Chan barely stopped himself from surging forward, chasing your hand like an instinct. That, coupled with the mewl he let out when he registered the sudden loss of your body heat around him, tugged at your heart just as much as it spiked your adrenaline. You made quick work of removing your clothes, well aware of his eyes, wide as moons, watching you undress through the mirror, waiting for you to return to him. Restless, yearning, but obedient above all else.

He reached for you the instant you settled back in his lap, hovering over your waist for just a second before ultimately latching on, skin on skin, a whole new layer of heat. You took his length back into your grasp, turning your body so that you were both facing your dresser mirror. You could hear Chan’s breathing pick up behind you, feel his chest expanding against your back.

“See that, Channie?” You dragged the head of his dick along your folds, coating it with your own wetness. “Just looking at you gets me like this.”

If all you’d said wasn’t enough, maybe the physical proof of his effects on you would help do the trick. A sweet, desperate vocalization, so rife with need that you could practically taste it, was all he could manage. It morphed into a moan as you sank down on him all at once—loud, absolutely shameless. You would never think it came from the boy who couldn’t even catch a glimpse of himself without being reduced to a flustered wreck. Just as your heat engulfed him, his engulfed you. It came more intensely than ever before, more staggering than even your first time together, bolting through your veins and making you suppress a gasp. You clenched around his cock, relishing in the feeling of him pressed so snugly inside you, as close as physically possible. So comforting in its familiarity, so exhilarating in its return. It was something you could only describe as relief, relief in the warmth, the fullness, the completion you brought to each other.

Chan’s head fell forward with a whimper, chin resting against your shoulder, clinging to you so tightly that it was difficult to move. You weren’t even sure if he was aware of it, a subconscious desire to stay buried inside you, not wanting to lose the security of your walls wrapped around him for even a second.

“Missed you so much,” he slurred into your skin. “W-wanna stay like this forever.”

You reached back to cradle his head, running your fingers through his hair. “I missed you too, angel. Missed the way you fill me up so perfectly.”

You lifted yourself until just the head of his cock was left pulsing inside you. When you noticed Chan’s blissed out expression in the mirror—eyes fluttered shut, lips swollen against your shoulder, eyebrows knitted together—a golden opportunity presented itself. It took him a second or two to realize that you weren’t sliding back down, another soft plea rumbling in his throat, vibrating into your skin. You gave his scalp an affectionate scratch, prompting him to look. This time, he listened without question, driven solely by the need to feel your wet heat around him again.

“Good boy.” You took him back inside immediately, not keen on being apart for much longer, either. He gritted his teeth as you did, trying his best to keep his gaze leveled with his reflection for you, for your satisfaction, for your approval. But nothing could’ve prepared him for what came out of your mouth next.

“See how perfect you look when you’re inside me, Channie? See all the pretty faces you make? My pretty baby, feeling so good. Making me feel so good.”

At that, the precious little that had remained of Chan’s composure fizzled out completely. His hands flew up to cover his face, hot with shame, burning with arousal. The filthy sight of him pushing in and out of you, the wet sounds filling his ears, the teasing lilt of your voice. It was all too much. He shoved his nose into his palms, letting out a cute, mortified wail that echoed throughout the bedroom, mixing with your breathless giggles.

Even as you continued riding him, he stayed hidden behind the safety net of his fingers, shyness turned back up to full blast with no signs of disappearing. It only added to the pressure building up inside your abdomen to see him so overwhelmed, each muffled grunt and soft whimper of his spurring you on. Your words from earlier rang truer than ever—he was so weak for you.

You allowed him to stay that way for the sake of his sanity, petting his head with a gentleness that contrasted the steady pace of your bouncing. It wasn’t until you felt his cock begin to jerk inside you that he pulled his hands away from his face with a choked noise, reaching out for you once more.

“Can’t take it—mmph—‘m getting close! ‘M s-sorry!”

His fingers dug deep into your flesh, igniting heat at every point of contact. You basked in the feeling for as long as you could, then halted your movements altogether, pulling off of him in one fell swoop. The loss made both of your bodies cry out in protest. Chan hiccuped pathetically, mouth falling open, confused blinks reflecting in the mirror when your softness, your warmth, escaped him without warning.

He trembled underneath you, tugging at your waist as he tried to get a handle on his voice. With care, you turned in his lap to come face to face with him again, moving slowly enough as not to break his hold on you, not even for a moment.

“Did I…” he panted. “Did I do something wrong?”

You brushed your thumb over his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had begun to accumulate. “No, baby. You’re doing so well for me,” you assured him. “But you wanna finish together, don’t you?”

It was almost funny, in a sense, how the way Chan’s face lit up—how his features flooded with pure delight—made your heart flutter more than anything else. More than any irresistible sound he let out, more than any way he let you use his body to your heart’s content. You were just as captivated, just as endeared, just as hopelessly taken with him as that night in May, walking home alongside him under the moonlight and knowing your fate was sealed.

“Y-yeah, together. Together, please.” He leaned forward, nose finding your neck, taking in your scent. “Can we stay like this? Wanna see you.”

Your hand found his length again, wrapping just tight enough around it to make him jolt. “Hm…you can see me in the mirror though, can’t you?”

“Please,” he repeated, pouty lips brushing against your skin. “Only wanna see you. Need you.”

You relented. Regardless of how badly you wanted to get the message across to him, regardless of how addictive you found the sight of him on display in ways you’d never seen before, you knew he’d just about reached his limit. And, well, maybe you needed him too. Needed to watch him fall apart right before your very eyes, needed to have every bit of your skin pressed against his, needed to kiss him when it all became too much for his foggy mind.

“You’re so cute. I’ve got you, baby.” You tilted his chin up with your free hand, half-lidded doe eyes finding yours. Knowing him, the eye contact wouldn’t last long before he was ducking away again. So, you took advantage of it, realigning him with you and watching his features flood with pleasure as you sank down on him once more. He had to stop himself from bucking up into you, body stiffening with effort, a breathy, grateful moan, nothing short of angelic, slipping past his lips.

“You’ve gotta hold on for a bit, alright?” You gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Let me know when you’re close. Can you do that for me, Channie?”

His arms wrapped around you in full, no longer content with just his hands on your waist. “Mhm.” He barely mustered up a nod, pulling himself closer to you in a way that burrowed his cock impossibly deeper inside. “Promise. W-wanna make you feel good, too. Wanna be a good boy for you.”

“My good boy,” you cooed. “See how well you fit inside me? See how good you make me feel?” You clenched around him as you dragged yourself up his length, snapping back down with a delicious speed. “You were made for me.”

“M-made for you,” he agreed, head falling forward to nestle into your chest. “Ah—fuck! You’re so warm. Feels s-so good.”

You dug your nails into his muscles, using your grip on him for leverage as you began working your way up to a pace even more vigorous than before. Immediately, the new angle took a toll on Chan. It allowed the head of his length to rub directly against your sweet spot with each rock of your hips, making the both of you shudder. You could feel his mouth fall open against you to let out an especially sharp cry, nibbling mindlessly at your flesh, matching your rhythm.

“You’re mine, t-too, right? Gonna stay with me?” he babbled into your skin. “Please, tell me you’ll stay. I’ll be good for you. P-please.”

The coil in your chest twisted just as tight as the one in your abdomen. You knew his thoughts were muddled, ridding him of any filter and making him ramble in the heat of the moment. But you also knew it stemmed from a very real fear, one that you would never feed into again.

“You’re already so good for me, Channie. You’re perfect. My perfect boy,” you spoke as steadily as your erratic movements and shaky breath would allow, ensuring that each reassurance found him. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m here ‘cause I love you.”

Chan whined, ringing out loud and clear even through the softness of your chest. “Love you. I love you so much.” He nuzzled further into you, strengthening his hold around you, hands pawing at your sides. The words seemed to have opened the floodgates within him, like he’d been waiting to hear them—the catalyst for him to lose himself in you completely. “Love you, love you, love you. ‘M almost th-there.”

This time, there was a short delay before you could bring yourself to stop. You didn’t want to let go of him again, no amount of time would be tolerable enough. So, you stayed perfectly still, indulging selfishly in the feeling of him inside you without snapping the final thread just yet. Chan lifted his head, disoriented, biting down on his bottom lip to fight back a pathetic groan as his climax was denied once more. You could feel his thighs quivering under yours, his arms flexing around you, his cock twitching wildly against your walls. Every bit of his energy was being expended to hold himself together, to endure it however many times you saw fit.

“You’re doing so well, baby boy. Lasting so long for me.” You twirled a lock of his damp curls around your finger, hoping to keep him grounded enough to hang on just a bit more.

“Y-yeah? ‘M doing okay?” He brushed his nose against yours, a silent plea that you understood all too well by now. “Making you feel good?”

“So good, Channie. I’m getting close, too.” You closed the gap between you and him before his wordless request became another whine, taking his swollen lips between yours. They were hot, pillowy, unbelievably wet. You tried your best not to flutter around him, but it was impossible not to when he was humming so eagerly into your mouth, kissing without an ounce of self-control left in his system. His movements were sloppy, uncoordinated, but each messy slide of his lips sent another jolt through your senses. The hug he’d enveloped you in loosened at last, hands wandering obsessively over your body until he found your chest. He paused for a moment, mumbling out something that made drool drip from the corner of his mouth.

“Mmph, c-can I? Wanna touch, please.”

Even now, he was clinging to the last few shreds of his rationality for you, thinking of you above all else when the promise of his climax was dangling right in front of his face. It took the arousal coursing through your veins to a whole new degree, so intensely that you had to stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his lips out of raw affection.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmured.

Chan cupped the soft flesh in an instant, sighing like he was slipping into a dream. His kisses became near-frantic, so drunk on you that he had trouble staying confined to just your lips, landing on the corner of your mouth, all over your cheeks, pecking and sucking any spot he could. Despite that, his hands were gentle, kneading at your flesh in a delicate back and forth pattern that calmed him and kindled a fresh warmth in your body. He was doing so well for you, trying his absolute best for you. You wanted to give him everything. You wanted to take his heart that he offered up to you so willingly, and give him yours in return.

“Ready to keep going, Channie? Can you take it?”

“Y-yeah. Yes, please,” he breathed. “Gonna do it for you. I’ll do anything.”

“My sweet boy.” You cupped his cheeks, steadying his clumsy kisses, but holding him just close enough to keep him content. He hissed softly as you began moving again, rolling your hips down so that his length grinded against your walls, stimulating every nerve-ending inside you. The heat building between your bodies became much harder to ignore, filling the air around you and seeping into your skin. It was heavy, thick, but it made you feel lighter than ever. Your high was drawing near, and, judging by the way Chan’s hips stuttered with less and less restraint, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer either.

The pads of his fingers dug into your breasts just as he let out a warning moan. “Oh God, ‘m sorry. Please, don’t wanna finish without you. So—ngh—close.”

You grinded down against him, spine tingling when Chan yelped in response, so sharp it almost sounded like he was in pain. “Mm, just a little more, baby boy. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“I-I…oh, please,” he swallowed hard, eyebrows scrunching together as you dragged yourself all the way up his length, mind-numbingly slow. “Yeah, I can do it. I’ll be g-good.”

Your hands traveled up to his hair, tangling in his curls and pulling at them just hard enough to make goosebumps rise at his nape. “Channie listens so well,” you purred. “You were made to please, hm? Good boy, good boy.”

If your honeyed praises weren’t enough to push him alarmingly close to the edge, the way you squeezed around him as you sank back down, wrapping him in your heat all the way to his base surely was. Chan surged forward with a sob, head falling into your shoulder, fingers grasping at you helplessly.

“Your good boy,” he whimpered. “Please, please, ‘m not gonna l-last.”

You cradled the back of his head. “It’s too much, huh angel?” you pouted. “You can let it all out, now.”

“Together?” You could hear the strain in his voice, mere seconds away from losing it completely. “Together—ah—right?”

“Together.”

At that, you gave one last sloppy glide along his length, snapping the tension in both of you at once. Chan cried out, teeth grazing against your shoulder, hips surging up to push as far into you as your bodies would allow. A delicious heat seared through your senses, only amplified by the flood of his release coating your insides, stronger than ever from how long he’d been holding back. You tried to keep your own sounds under control, far more entranced by the ones slipping from his trembling lips. Mewls of your name, slurring out how much he loved you, chanting his gratitude like a mantra as you guided him through your shared high.

Minutes or hours could’ve passed and you wouldn’t have known the difference—you wouldn’t have minded either way. Eventually, the shivers in Chan’s body faded out, his panting evened into softer, more peaceful breaths. When he finally found it in him to pull his head from the comfort of your neck, droplets had begun to form in his eyes again. Not enough to spill down his cheeks quite yet, just enough to glaze his pupils over with happy tears, just enough to make them shine.

Your fingers danced absentmindedly in his hair, serving as a different pleasure from the kind that had just rocked your bodies. “You did so well for me, Channie. I’m proud of you.”

He blinked up at you. Slow, lazy, a dreamy smile tugging at his lips. “You’re s’ beautiful.”

“Sweet baby,” you murmured. “I hope you think the same when you see yourself.”

Anything he planned to say trailed off when you reached down for his hand, bringing it up to your lips. He was still buried deep inside you, hypersensitive to every little movement, every little touch, but he did his best not to squirm as you pressed kisses to his fingertips, paying extra attention to the fading cut on his thumb. The pain was long gone, now. Still, it made a few glistening tears trickle out delicately. You kissed them away, too.

“You’re still my favorite reflection.”

Shy, barely audible, but spoken with all the sincerity in the world. Butterflies erupted in your stomach. It was a start, at least. Maybe the parts of yourselves that you loved in each other, you could eventually come to love in yourselves.

“Can we—?”

“Stay like this?” you finished for him, a smile creeping up on your lips. “Yeah, we can.”

He bumped his forehead against yours, letting out an exhausted giggle, eyes crinkling and dimples flashing. He was glazed with sweat, skin sticky, damp curls pressed to his forehead, but he shone with every ray of light that slipped through your blinds.

The urge to check on him, to fuss over him, to care for him, still nagged at your mind. That was something that would never change. You wanted to clean him up, wash away the soreness and soothe the marks all over his body. But he didn’t need any of that right now. He just needed you. That was it. From day one, it had been as simple as that. You didn’t need to do anything. You didn’t need to prove anything. You just needed each other. Maybe, you could stay wrapped up in the mess you’d left on each other’s bodies for a while—bask in it, even.

Chan’s innocent nuzzles inevitably led to another kiss. Soft, but just as hungry for you, just as desperate to stay immersed in this moment. You shifted slightly on his lap, making your heart jump and making him jolt against you. The poorly concealed sound that built up in his throat might’ve made you giggle if you didn’t need him just as much. No more limits. No more restraint. You didn’t have to worry about taking him in moderation.

You wanted each other endlessly. You fell into each other again and again.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

A sudden buzz against your nightstand cut through the tranquil rhythm of breath that filled your bedroom, pulling you from the haze of sleep that had been pricking at your mind’s edges. It was a brief, low vibration, but still loud enough for you to worry that it may wake the boy in your arms. For once, you allowed yourself to be unavailable, not daring to disturb his peace for even a moment to roll over and read the notification. You already had a good idea of who it might be, anyway: Changbin, triple checking what time you’d all be meeting up for jjajangmyeon on Friday. The thought alone made fondness bubble up inside you, lips curling into a private smile. After four years of tardiness, absences, and missed deadlines, this was the one thing he was determined to be on time for.

Graduation was two days away. You and Changbin’s class ceremony would take place in the early morning, while Chan’s was scheduled for later that same night. Timed seamlessly with the rise of the sun and the moon. The finish line that you’d been terrified of for so long was a mere few steps away, but when viewed up close, it wasn’t quite so daunting anymore. Even if the path you walked next was still unfamiliar, uncarved by anyone before you to clear the way, you knew who you’d be walking it with, and you knew where it would lead you. You’d walk side by side with Chan, towards something better.

His family had flown in from Australia earlier in the week to visit, to attend his ceremony—to celebrate him. An occasion that was just as precious to them even with the bitter memories that surrounded it, even in its delay, even if Chan had spent the past two years convincing himself otherwise. He’d been a nervous wreck before leaving to meet with them when they first arrived, you could see it in every awkward shift of his feet, every subconscious rub of his neck, every unnecessary adjustment of his clothes. However much you’d tried to comfort him beforehand, however many grateful smiles he’d given you, you’d known that there was no real way to ease his apprehension. He hadn’t seen them in person for over a year, and, even prior to that, it’d been two years since he’d had an interaction with them that wasn’t engulfed in shame.

But when he’d returned, he had a smile that almost reached his eyes; hopeful. It hadn’t been perfect, everything wasn’t okay yet, but the seed had at least been planted for it to blossom one day. He’d missed them so much. It made your heart sing and ache at the same time. You only wished that he’d believed he deserved to see them before now—to stand in front of them as the son and brother that they loved, not as the collection of faults and disappointments he saw himself as.

Though, you supposed you weren’t exactly one to talk. Your family would be coming into the city on the day of your ceremony as well, a very blatant reminder that you had yet to visit your hometown again like you’d promised them over the summer.

You weren’t quite ready to return yet. But just like Chan, you would be, one day. And you would try again. Of all the things you’d come to learn in your time with him, the value of upholding a promise was undoubtedly the most important one. You weren’t going to run. You would try as many times as it took until your home felt like home again, until you remembered all the good times, until the memories laced in every crack and crevice didn’t add to the sting in your skin, but eased it.

You eyed Chan’s form through the darkness, nestled against you with his head buried in the softness of your chest—sound asleep, for once.

Your arm was still draped over his waist, lingering at the small of his back where you’d been rubbing as he drifted off. In turn, his muscular arm was wrapped securely around you. Holding each other, protecting each other. An endless cycle of drawing strength from one another without growing any weaker in the process. You could give him everything, and not lose a single drop of yourself.

For the first time, you could hold someone in your arms without that underlying sense of dread spreading its roots in your mind. For the first time, your heart was still. A calm and clear surface of a lake, one that you hoped could reflect Chan’s light in its truest, most unbroken form.

You were no longer held together by a butterfly bandage, an ill-fitted adhesive, forcibly closing your wounds without giving them the chance to heal properly. At last, you were stitched up. Stitched up by the very same thread of fate that had brought you and Chan together.

You didn’t have to ask to know that he felt the same. You could feel his emotions like they were your own, after all.

#💌#youve had me in shambles every step of the way…i’ll be spending the next few months glueing myself back together heh

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 2 years ago

Text

Spiraling (Sherlock Holmes)

Hi, this is just a thought I've concocted. I honestly dont know what it is. I dont know if anybody will enjoy it, i hope they do but i already expect disappointment. Pardon my writing as i am still new to this. there was still a bit left after this but i didnt know how to run through it so just posted this but maybe ill finish that one once ive thought it through

Summary: After an accident during a case, a hostage situation leaves you in a coma for a week. During that week in the hospital, things are going horribly in Baker Street

‘Ohh Sherlock darling that’s beautiful, though I haven’t heard it before. Dare I ask who wrote that’ I asked Sherlock as he played the unfamiliar song. It was odd that I was unfamiliar with the beautiful tune as Sherlock has played plenty and more melodies than I can count, all of which I was familiar with, however that was new. I knew that he likes to compose as it helps him think but this was different, so I assumed was he’s playing another great’s piece. His melodies were always a bit solemn, deep and intense but this was lively, light and dare I say romantic.

‘Me’ he said flatly as he continued to play. Shocked as I was, I remained quiet as he carried on fiddling with his violin. Apparently, the shock was evident in my face as a smirked crossed his. I shrugged it off and listened until he finished the number. He was focused on the violin when he started to play but now his gaze was held on me. I gave him a soft smile which caused his features to soften into a smile of its own.

After a little while he finished and set the instrument on his chair, eyes still fixed on me. The grin I’ve plastered on grew wider as he walks over to me, hand in offering. I accepted and rose from my seat as he led the way to an open area. He moved to face me, a hand that belonged to him crept up to my waist and the hand he held in his was raised. Confused of his actions, I went along with it and raised my free arm to his shoulder, having an inkling where this was going. Guessing correctly, we moved around the living area, dancing as much we could in the small, confined space. Having known the dance as the same one done at John’s wedding; I was pleased to not have forgotten the steps.

As we continued waltzing, I asked ‘what has you all cheery?’

‘What has you so inquisitive’ he countered

‘Fair enough, though what had transpired to get you to write such a beautiful melody’

‘Nothing just got bored, so I composed. I was just very fortunate enough to have a great model and inspiration.’ He smiled as I beamed at the realization of what he meant. I was sat all day reading -a rather fascinating book might I add- on John’s chair as the boys finished up on a case. He’d come in around just after noon, bored of having been done with the previous case and not being on one currently. I greeted him when he walked in and went to the kitchen to fix up some tea. When I returned, giving one of the two mugs to him -a kiss on the head as a thank you-, I returned to finishing my book.

We continued dancing around the flat for a little while, nothing but the silent music and the rustling of our feet was heard. I laid my head on his shoulder at some point, happy and content of where I was and what I was doing. His voice broke the silence as we went for one last round.

‘Darling, can you do me a favour?’ he asked, voice a bit changed from the one he used earlier but I thought nothing of it.

‘Sure love, what is it?’

‘Wake up. Don’t leave me. Please come back to me’ His voice was now pleading and serious.

I raised my head as I said ‘What are you talking about, I’m right…’ I paused as his body and hold were loosening and disappearing ‘…here’ I continued with my sentence as I raised my hands to hold Sherlocks face. Everything had started to disappear in black. The flat and slowly his body.

‘Please come back, I can’t lose you, I need you please’ were his final words as he disappeared, slipping through my fingers, into the darkness. Nothing but a spotlight overhead of me. I put down my hands from where they were clutching on to his face, looking around into nothing but darkness.

…

‘Ey, how’s she doing?’ Greg asked John as he walked into the hospital room. It was quiet, nothing but the steady beeping of the heart monitor, breathing of the people in the room and the rain pattering on the window. John was sat at the chair at the end of the bed where you laid, nearly dozing off but was aroused by Lestrade breaking the silence of the room. Mycroft, unnoticed yet by the DI was stood at the dark corner beside the door. He was staring at your unmoving body, wondering how such a fierce, smart, brave and strong woman could ever lay looking so fragile.

‘Same as yesterday’ John replied with a yawn. The lot of them have been juggling staying here with you, looking after Sherlock and taking care of Rosie. John and Molly’s focus were taking care of Rosie, while Mrs. Hudson looked after Sherlock somewhat. She’d inform their little group of what’s been happening with him, keeping tabs of his activities and mayhem in the flat but the woman could only do so much. Greg checked up on him from time to time, more often than John and Molly but it was no use. What greeted them was a mess that was once the great Detective Sherlock Holmes. No one could get through to him but you. Even Mycroft tried, but he knew that what his brother needed, and the lack of it resulted into relapsing back to old habits.

John went straight here after Molly came to take care of Rosie. He was absolutely knackered. Rosie couldn’t sleep through the night which kept him up as well. He’s been living off of pots of coffee the past week with barely enough sleep. He’d nod off at times when it was his watch and the others would let him.

Mycroft came to check on you from time to time and occasionally kept watch of you as well. He knew that when you woke up and found him fully rested, not having bothered with helping the others, you’d have his head.

Now it seems the boys are all here at once. Greg came to relieve John of his duties to get some rest and inform him of the situation with the younger of the Holmes brothers, still unaware that the older was in the room.

‘Just got a message from Mrs. Hudson about our boy, it isn’t good.’ Greg announces, drawing Mycroft to rub his temples and John to release a sigh. Ever since the accident, Sherlock has only visited you once. The lot of em guessed he couldn’t bear to see you that way so for the past week, he’s been holed up in Baker Street.

‘Christ, what the bloody hell has he done now’ John said exasperated. He was exhausted. Before Greg could respond, another did.

‘You wouldn’t want to know’ Mycroft breathed out. Lestrade’s head snaped to the corner of the room, where the voice originated. Mycroft walked to the centre of the room, down the foot of your bed. Greg’s eyes followed, still startled by the unseen fellow.

‘What are you doing here’ he asked Holmes.

‘I could ask you the same thing’ the eldest Holmes retorted.

‘It’s my shift with y/n’

‘Well there’s no need, you lot look like rubbish’

‘Gee Myc, thanks’ John interrupted.

‘As I was saying,’ he continued, glaring at Watson ‘You lot should get some rest. If y/n finds you’ve been staying here with her, tired and looking like rubbish, she’d have my head.’

‘She’d already be livid by us just not leaving her alone’ John chuckled

‘Ohh wait till she sees Sherlock, she’d be in flames carving us up’ Lestrade groaned with a snicker, rubbing his head at the thought.

‘She already is’ said an unknown voice. A voice they were familiar with but haven’t heard in a while.

All three heads snapped towards the bed. There they found a woman shifting in the bed, trying to sit up, groaning as a pang of pain shot up her shoulder and stomach. Her eye’s fluttering, adjusting to the light and scene in front of her. John quickly stood up from where he was sat as all three men went to check on y/n.

‘Call the nurses and her doctor’ John ordered to anyone in the room, mainly the two lads he was in conversation with and Lestrade followed, rushing from the room to get your attendants.

‘Hey there, sleeping beauty, stop moving around, your going to pop your stitches. Do you remem…’ John fretted as he started examining you, but got cut off.

‘Oh shut it John, I’m fine. Yes I remember what happened. I got shot. Last thing I remember was staring at a barrel of a gun. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m presuming I’m in the hospital. I’m also presuming Elizabeth is still the queen of England now leave me alone.’ She growled and the former army doctor backed away as her doctor came in with a few others, some nurses followed by Lestrade.

‘Ahh, it seems our VIP has awoken’ the doctor said.

‘VIP!’ She took another once over the room, seeing it is rather posh than a normal one, but her focus was on the three blokes taking a laugh at what her reaction was to be when she woke, before she shot her gaze to Mycroft who is to the right of her bed ‘Mycroft Holmes you moved me to a VIP room!’ she fumed as the government official backed away.

‘Okay Ms. Y/L/N please calm down. If you don’t mind, I will perform an examination to check your abilities.’ The doctor mused as he slowly and carefully approached the bed. He asked for permission to lift up your gown to examine the wound on your stomach. You waved him off and he began asking questions.

‘Ughh, John repeat’ you grumbled, already having answered the question before John could even ask.

‘She’s fine, she answered the questions before I could even ask.’ John explained to the doctor who nodded. He asked to uncover your shoulder, as he covered your stomach, to examine the wound on your there. Complying, he examined your arm. After the examination of the wounds, he checked your mobility and reflexes, lifting up your arms and etcetera. Finished with the inspection, he explained what happened to you medically. Apparently, the shot had you fall backward, in which you hit you head very hard -that explained the headaches-. You got shot at four times, three bullet hit you. One just a graze, one a flesh wound on the shoulder and the last on the edge of your stomach. It hit no vital organs but did graze the stomach. They took you to surgery and came out with minimal complications. They left you in a medically induced coma for a day to get the swelling on your head down. You haven’t woken up till now. You nodded every so often until he left, leaving you in the room with the boys and a nurse checking up on your vitals.

Running your uninjured hand to your hair, which was full of knots and a tangled mess, you sighed. You had pads stuck on your shoulder, stomach and arm, covering the holes and grazes on each area. The doctor said it was a miracle that you haven’t sustained much damage. He said miracle, you thought those were the odds of your predicament. ‘It could have been worse’ he said, that you believed. ‘You were lucky’ he added, you didn’t believe in luck.

‘Did anybody else get hurt?’ You asked, eyes closed, leaning back on the bed.

‘No, everyone’s fine, the hostages weren’t harmed, just… you’ John hesitated as he knew the lot of them were threading on thin waters.

‘How bad is it’ You asked, looking at Greg. He knew what you were talking about, he’d be stupider than you thought if he didn’t. He realized you must have heard his news about your lover. He doesn’t respond immediately, hesitating. Just from that you knew it was bad.

‘Bad’ he replied anxiously

‘Be more specific’ you sneered, ticked off from the lack of detail

‘He’s using’ John said plainly. ‘He is, isn’t he?’

‘Yes’ both Mycroft and Greg replied.

‘Fuck’ you breathed out, unintentionally ran you hand through your hair again, pissed to be greeted with a tangled mess. You look at John. He looked tired, bags and dark circles under his eyes, he looks like rubbish.

‘How long was I out again’ you asked, having ignored the doctor most of the time during his explanation, you let that little information slip.

‘A week’ John answered. You nodded as a thought crossed you.

‘Where’s, who’s with Rosie?’ you asked, concern over who’s with your god daughter. John smiled at your concern over his offspring.

‘She’s fine, she’s with Molly.’ he explained. You let out a breath, wincing a bit at the movement. You were given a PCA pump to help you control your pain, you pressed the button to add a dosage, not to much to get you fucked high but enough so the pain was manageable.

‘Speaking of, I should inform her and Mrs. Hudson that you’re awake.’ he said pulling out his phone.

‘Wait. Where are my things’ you asked so to get your own phone. The nurse’s head picked up and she gave you a plastic bag full of your belongings. You greeted her thanks as she continued on scribbling on her clip board.

‘John, could you get me anything to eat, I’m starving’ you asked your friend. He gave you a soft smile and nodded, glad that you had an appetite, he headed out to the canteen. Your gaze moved on to Mycroft who was sat on a chair near the window.

‘You, get me a less fancy room please. I do not want to be treated as if I’m royalty.’ he opened his mouth to object, but you cut him off. ‘Please’ you begged, which caused his resolve to break and agree. Not many could order around the Holmes boys, you were just one of the few that could. He left the room with his cane in tow, shutting the door. The nurse was about to leave as well but you called her over before she could.

‘Hi, could you please get me an AMA to sign and please be discreet.’ you told her gently but the intent an order. She looked at you for a second before nodding quickly and rushing out to get the document. You knew very well you could just leave without signing a damn thing but you didn’t want to cause a problem with the hospital, so this is just a courtesy.

‘What the are you doing’ Lestrade asked you as you ripped open the bag full of your stuff.

‘Did you guys get me anything to change?’ you said as you riffled through the bag looking for your phone.

‘Yah um sure.’ He went over to the closet and took a bag from a shelve. ‘Molly went to your flat while you were in surgery.’ He explained putting the bag on the bed. Having found your phone, you opened the bag he had given you and took out a change of clothes. You grabbed a clean pair of knickers, your denim jeans, a white shirt and a blue cardigan from the bag as you told Greg to close the curtains and look away. He followed as you gently put on your underwear and jeans. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button of the PCA pump to administer a bit more, scratch that, a lot more of morphine a few more times before pulling the needle out. You grimaced and threw the needle away. The nurse happens to have chosen that moment to come in and see what you were doing. She came to help you and pulled a plaster from one of the many drawers of medical equipment next to the machines. Greg who was still looking at the window asked what was happening.

‘Nothing just… did Molly happen to bring me any shoes’

‘Uhh yeah, bottom of the bag’ he replied.

‘Okay’ you say as the nurse helps you with your bra and shirt. You carefully put your arm through the hole of the shirt and rummaged through the bag of your items for a hair tie, your hair was killing you. Having found one, you attempted to tie your hair but a pang of pain shot your shoulder and stomach, mild but it was still there. The nurse having noticed this took the hair tie from you and tied your hair up in a bun. You were so very grateful for her at that moment.

‘Greg you can turn around now.’ Following your orders, he turned to see you fully clothed, a nurse tying up your hair.

‘What the bloody hell are you doing’ he exclaimed as he walked over to face you.

‘You are taking me to Baker Street.’ You say flatly as you reached for the clip board of forms.

‘I am not’ He handed it to you, and you asked for a pen.

‘You are’ you said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, he found one in his coat and handed it to you. You quickly scribbled and signed the discharge papers before handing them to the nurse, who was removing the rest of the wires attached to you.

‘Can you find me a wheelchair’ you asked Lestrade who fully knew it was an order and not a request. Grumbling he followed and left the room leaving you with the nurse. You pulled the shoes from the bag, threw the plastic bag of bloody garments in and zipped it shut. Slipping on the trainers carefully, you stood up fully from the bed and walked around with the help of the nurse, to wake up your legs from its week rest. Your clothes hung loose and big as you’ve lost a bit of weight during your hibernation. As you walk around the room, your leg starts to get a bit more feeling. The morphine was relieving most of your pain but that didn’t mean there still wasn’t some left.

Lestrade came in with a wheelchair as you’ve just slipped on the cardigan. You took a seat from the chair and asked for you bag to be placed on your lap. You thank the nurse, asking for her name as you were going to send her a gift basket or something as a thank you for getting you out of the hospital. She bided you with instructions and precautions with wounds, which you told her to tell John when he got back from the cafeteria. A thought occurred and you also asked her for a favour of giving John a few of the pain meds -morphine really- when he returned and maybe a suture kit, she nodded questionably. You thanked her one more time before asking Lestrade to wheel you to his car and head to Baker Street. You made a mental note of giving that nurse a very good thank you basket for all the things she’s done for you.

…

As Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand, she heard the ramblings of her tenant. From what she can tell, he was reciting Shakespeare. As she slowly opened the kitchen door -finding it much safer than the main one directly opening to the flat-, she’d find her kitchen a mess. Her table filled with beakers, a microscope, tubes and whatnot with a bunch of other experiments in different bins. Her counters and cabinets filled with the same thing, with an added touch of pinned and hanging files and photographs. The floors ridded with stacked piles of papers and boxes. She just managed to squeeze in her tray of tea and biscuits on the table, before being startled by a gunshot. She jumped and headed to the living room where the shots originated, checking on the lad she treated like a son. As she finally managed to weave her way to the living space, she was greeted by another shot, one her wall had to suffer.

She found Sherlock shouting and waving a revolver, as he rounded the flat like a mad man.

‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger; ' he recited loudly, pacing around the flat, pointing the gun at pictures that hang on strings and objects he found no longer useful, before shooting a picture pinned on the wall.

Startled from the shots fired and getting quite scared of Sherlocks erratic behaviour -though she’s somewhat used to this-, she rushes out the flat and down the stairs. She was going to ring up John or Lestrade to inform them of the increase in violence in the detective’s behaviour. More shots followed at her decent down the stairs when the front door slammed open revealing a y/h/c head of hair she knew belonged to the only person who could help the bloke who live in the flat she just rushed out on.

…

As the car got closer to 221 Baker Street, a clear sound of a bullet wrang through the block. A sound I know a bit too well from a recent experience. I flew out of the vehicle before Greg could even stop the car, pain searing through my body at the force of my movements. A faint ‘Eyy’ was heard coming from Greg but again faint as I was rushing to the front door.

‘STAY THERE’ I shouted back. The slanted knocker flew at the force of the door being slammed open. That was going to leave a dent on the partition, but I didn’t care.

‘Y/N!’ Mrs. Hudson was descending the stairs but was frozen in place at my arrival. I quickly sped up the stairs, past the landlady as pain wrecked through my body. ‘NOBODY COME UP HERE’ I shouted again, my throat getting sore even from the minimal exchange of words. I slow my steps as I get to the closed door of the flat, a booming voice heard from this side of the door. I slowly and very carefully open the door, not wanting to startle and get sent to the hospital with another bullet wound.

‘On, on, you noblest English. Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, have in these parts from morn till even fought and sheathed their swords for lack of argument’

‘Sherlock’ I said softly, announcing my arrival in between his rant. As I entered, I find chaos with the man I found to love in the centre of it all. What once was a somewhat organized flat, morphed as if a tornado passed through. Papers and pictures cloud and scattered on any available space. Strings hang at odd places. Bullet holes and pictures fill the walls, shattered pieces of glass crowd the floor along with knocked over furniture. It’s a mess.

You look up at Sherlock after scanning the room. Focusing on the detective, you take in his ragged and worn appearance. His curly head of hair, a greasy mess, sticking out at odd places. A heavy stubble has grown from the lack of shaving the past week. His features, primarily his jaw and cheekbones sharp from the scarce to none amount of food consumed. His skin, sickly pale as mine from when I woke up just less than an hour ago. His clothes hung loose on his body, the navy robe wrapped around him, fluttering as it followed his movement. He looks worse than me at the moment.

‘Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, and teach them how to war.’

He’s ranting, no reciting Henry the Fifth at the top of his lungs, waving the revolver around as he paced the flat, pulling at the papers stuck on the mirror, kicking anything his foot touched. Still in the midst of this chaos, what stood out to me were his eyes. Rounded by dark circles, sunken deep. However, behind those blue changing orbs, were emotions. I was always rather good at reading him, but his eyes always gave me the confirmation of my suspicions. Now what hid behind those beautiful cerulean blue orbs was guilt, worry and anger. I know that Sherlock cares for me and he has told me himself that he loves me, but I never knew that my absence would ever have this affect on him. Come to think of it, we’ve gone through far worse incidents but on the other hand he was always the one on that deep end. I never thought and always assumed that nobody cared enough for me to care if I was ever injured or dead. How wrong am I.

With a sigh, I whispered ‘Oh Sherlock what have you done’. I gulped before finding my voice to speak out again. I don’t think he knows of my presence yet as he’s still quite dramatically delivering the scene.

‘And you, good yeoman, whose limbs were made in England, show us here the mettle of your pasture.’

‘Sherlock’ I spoke up, receiving no response nor acknowledgement in return.

‘Let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, that hath not noble lustre in your eyes’

‘Sherlock’ I say louder, hoping to break through his train of thought.

‘I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ He finished loudly before sending steady shots at a picture pinned to the wall behind the couch, causing me to duck with a whimper, my hand flying to my stomach. I definitely popped a few stiches.

‘SHERLOCK’ I screamed, only to have the colt pointed at me again. Having a bit of a deja vu as the last thing I remember before waking up this noon was staring a barrel of a gun. Quite used to this from my previous job and years running around with the boys, I’m fairly tired of it. I raise my hands as a faint of innocence, hoping once again to save another trip to the hospital.

‘Sherlock’ I repeated softly, wincing as I slowly stand. A wave of recognization flashes through him and he wavers slightly. Taking the opportunity, quickly taking a step closer -ignoring the throbbing pain coursing through me-, I smack the hand that wields the gun upwards, causing his grip to falter and ultimately letting go of the gun. I quickly snatch the revolver mid-air with my other hand, a tight grip on the handle, holding it far away from him, taking a few steps back.

A bit fazed from recent actions, Sherlock remains frozen, possibly shocked from my presence. I on the other hand go to remove the bullets from the cylinder but find it empty, before place the firearm on the coffee table that was pushed to the side. I wince again when I stand up straight after bending to place the gun carefully on the table. I turn back to him, his stare boring a hole through me. I say his name in a soft tone once more as I slowly walk back over to him. A foot remains, the distance being the only barrier keeping us apart.

I see him looking over every inch of me, deliberating if I was a hallucination from his drugged high or really standing in front of him. He’s deducing every little detail on me after being deprived of my appearance the week. Greg told me while we were in the car that he’s only come to see me once during my stay at the hospital.

I say his name again and close the distance, sparing him the torture I’m sure he’s come up with trying to push through the intoxication. I place my palm on his cheek, caressing the sharp jawline as is eyes flutter to a close. He melts under my fingertips and leans into the hand. A bit of my heart chips and withers away, the sight of him, he looks tired, exhausted.

‘Ohh darling what happened to you’ I whisper.

My other arm goes to rub his back but instead decides to scream in pain. Sherlock feeling the wince, opens his eyes and draws back, terrified at the thought of him hurting me. With a deep breath, I try close the distance again, yet he moves away.

‘I’m fine.’ I gave him my best smile and fill the space keeping us apart. My good arm wraps around him. He hesitates but wraps his arms around me before breaking down. No one has anyone seen Sherlock Holmes break down. No one even knows if he’s ever had a break down, possibly besides his family. Mycroft told me of his emotional youth. Yes, he was traumatized after Redbeard but as far as I was told he never broke down. Not like this.

His head drops and hides at the crook of my neck, hugging me in a tight embrace, not enough to hurt much but there were still bits of it, the morphine dosage I took evidently wasn’t enough or the hospital have bloody horrible pain meds, I choose to believe in the latter. I resulted to bending my other arm caress his back, moving the good one to his hair as I kissed his head. He then sobbed, soaking up the fabric of my garments before collapsing. I eased him down the messy floor carefully -a bit more for my sake than his-, letting out a shush as he sobbed. I grimaced a bit a few times, letting out a small hiss that was thankfully barely audible due to his snivelling. Sitting at the back of my legs, I held the man I would, without second thought give my life for if it came to it. The man that has managed to capture my heart without realizing it. The man many have called heartless but had the biggest of them all.

‘it’s okay darling, let it out’ I whispered to his ear.

I held him for a long while. Rubbing his back, caressing his hair, ignoring the pain of my wounds, consoling and murmuring words of comfort into his ear. At some point the tears stopped, left with sniffles before ending up with his slow and steady breathing down my neck. He fell asleep. I smile, he was finally getting some rest and I was happy with that. Considering the state he was in I doubt at the possibility of him getting any sleep. I kissed the side of his face that was still tucked on my shoulder. He nuzzled himself closer and his never faltering grip on my ribs tightened a bit.

With my good hand, I reached to my back pocket, grabbing my phone to send a text to the boys. At some point during the wall getting packed with bullets and me consoling Sherlock, I heard the taxi pull up at front, the sound of the front door opening and the unmistakable voice that belonged to John. He had attempted to go up, but Mrs. Hudson stopped him, the same thing she did to Lestrade and the same thing she did to Mike after John had asked.

I sent a text to John You can come up now. A minute later, the stairs rumbled at the footfalls of the men rushing to flat. I looked at the open door and saw all three – or two as Mike is taking his time waiting for the two to pass- dashing to check up on us. I sent a glare at them for their loud behaviour as they stepped to 221b. I shushed them and they apologized quietly.

��Help me get him to bed please.’ I said in a nicer tone as I’ve realized I haven’t exactly been the kindest, ordering them around. Of course that’s what I was still doing but it was better to ask or demand in a kinder tone. Greg came up to us and I kissed Sherlocks temples one more time before slowly releasing his grip on me. He stirred but I managed to lull him back to his slumber. With the help of John, they carried the detective to his room and carefully -instructed by me after sending a glare- laid him on the bed. I haven’t bothered to stand up yet so when Mycroft came up to me and offered his hand, I accepted, wincing and grimacing when ache and agony shot at different part of my body. He helped me stand up steady after wobbling my steps, the numbing of sitting on the back my legs and not being fully recovered from its week rest nearly sends me tumbling on shards of glass.

‘I should be very mad at you’ he said.

‘And I cared if you were mad because…’ you retorted with a smirk. You looked past the kitchen to the bedroom just as the Lestrade popped his head out and walked back to the living room.

‘Fuck, my bag’s still in your car now isn’t it’. I sighed, exhausted from the days crusade. Before I could even attempt to move toward the door or ask someone to get it, Lestrade is already out the door. A smile creeps up my lips and I move to the kitchen, followed closely behind by Mycroft. I find a tray of tea and biscuits -no doubt left by Mrs. Hudson-. The teas gone a bit cold, but I didn’t care and take a sip of it. I’m parched and starving so I take one of the biscuits and stuff my mouth. I turn around to see Mycroft give me a disapproving look before the kitchen door opens and the landlady comes in.

‘Hello dear, its good to see you’ she greets to me with a half hug.

‘Nice to see you too Mrs. Hudson.’ I smiled pulling apart.

‘John had this with him when he came in but left it down at my flat when he got your text.’ She waved around Johns medical bag. Speaking of, he walks into the kitchen where the party seems to be as I stuff my face in biscuits and cold tea. Mrs. Hudson noticing this, scolds me and says she’ll make a new batch for the whole lot of us. Me and John say ‘thank you’ in unison and she leaves the flat.

‘What are we doing here?’ John looks at Mike who ignores him then turn to me.

‘I was going to the bedroom, but I saw these’ waving to the tray ‘and I’m starving’ reply taking a sip of the tea.

‘Yeah, speaking of, the food is still in the bag’ he nods to his bag which I’m guessing has hospital food in it.

‘Hospital food? Bleck no thanks, I’m fine with these’ gesturing to the tray again as I go take another sip of the tea to clear my throat.

‘For goodness sake enough of that’ John frustratingly releases the cup of my grip and I glare at him. He weirdly doesn’t like me drinking cold tea.

‘Eyy I wasn’t done with that’ I pout but he ignores me. He give me a once over and gesture to my stomach.

‘Your bleeding’ he say and I look down to see a red spot on my shirt.

‘Oh really, I didn’t notice’ I counter sarcastically as he picks up his bag and looks for his equipment.

‘Do it in the bedroom just’ I sigh, I’m really exhausted. I turn to Mycroft who is looking around at files attached to the strings. ‘Mike thank you for your help, please stay until Mrs. Hudson comes back with the tea then you want you can go’ I announce but get interrupted by Greg, who’s in the living room ‘In here’ I say and open my mouth to continue but get interrupted again. ‘Ey, isn’t that the shooter at the school’ He asks, pointing his thumb at the living room. Confused and intrigued, I limp on back to the living room followed by my posse, to see his pointing at the bullet ridded wall, a picture of the shooter indeed there but with a bullet hole or holes on the face. That’s what Sherlocks been shooting at. Christ.

‘Yeah, that’s him’ I sigh and continue on what I was previously saying. ‘Greg you can leave the bag anywhere, I’ll fix it later. Stay until after Mrs. Hudson’s tea then leave. Thank you for your help really.’ I smile and finally head to the bedroom, John at the heels.

As I enter the room, I find Sherlock sound asleep in the bed, on his back. The boys haven’t bothered with the sheets, so I cover him up with a blanket. I sit down carefully on the bed with the help of John, wincing every once and a while because of the pain. I lift my feet up to the bed gently, trying not to disturb my stomach anymore as he pulls out a suture kit and painkillers. I then turn to Sherlock, fix his head on pillow and stroke his head of curls, a bit greasy. I take a deep, knowing what I have to do, that I must check but its daunting. I exhale and get on with it, grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeves. Fuck. His arm is riddled with needle scars. Too much to even count. Fuck. I look over at John who’s also staring. He’s getting angry just looking at it, so with a sigh, I cover up his arm again and gently place it back on his side. Looking back at John, he’s still staring at the arm.

‘Hey’ snapping him out of his thoughts. He looks me in the eyes, livid at how his friend is treating himself. I lift up my shirt and he diverts his gaze to my side, peeling off the pads and checking on the wound. He’s awfully silent as he puts on a pair of gloves and opens the suture kit. He remembers the painkillers though, so he covers the wound back up temporarily and gets a syringe he’s laid out and sticks it to the bottle.

‘They had horrible pain killers’ I try fill the quiet room with humour, but the hospital did have horrible meds. His features soften when he looks at me, tapping the syringe as I remove the sleeve of the cardigan. He finds a vain before sticking the needle in to give me some relief.

‘Those are good. They the one the nurse gave you?’ I ask. He nods as he goes back to the hole on my stomach. He stitches me up after sticking another needle around the area to numb it -a whole lot better than before because I can’t even feel the wound-. He’s pulling rather aggressively on the needle and while I can’t feel it, I don’t appreciate his way of releasing his anger on my skin.

‘John, If you are to keep doing that, I’m kicking you out.’ He glances back up at me and he mutters an apology before continuing his work, gently this time.

‘I’ll make him pee in a jar, just let him sleep.’ I say glancing back at Sherlock. He just looks exhausted, I’m exhausted but I want nothing more than to hold him in my arms and run my fingers through his curls but if I do that now he’ll wrap himself around me and I don’t think John would appreciate getting interrupted from his work.

‘This is worse than Mary’ I merely murmured, barely audible but it seems John heard. I run a hand up my face, leaning back, letting out a breath as John looks from me to Sherlock.

‘It could have been much more worse if you didn’t wake up’ he looks back down to finish the sutures as I look at him. He’s right of course, he always is with these things.

‘That’s it? I expected a lecture, or you be mad about me leaving the hospital.’

‘Oh, I am mad, just there’s no point of it is there when you don’t give a damn and will do what ever the hell you want anyway’ he ties of the last stitch and grabs some gauze to cover. My lips curl up into a grin knowing he is once again right about that. I hold the gauze as he tapes it up before putting another bandage just in case. He finishes and starts to clean up his things.

‘Thank you, John. I’m really really grateful for all that you’ve done. All the things everybody’s done.’ I beam.

‘That’s it? I expected a lecture or you livid’ he humours, repeating what I said just moments before with his own twist.

‘Oh, I am. But I get it, I would have done the same with you lot, but It’s done and just thank you.’ I admit, though I still want to be cross, I get it. They care.

‘He needs you; you know. More than you know. He lost it after you didn’t wake up when they took you off the meds for the coma. You’ve somewhat replaced his high from the drugs with your own and the probable thought and loss of it just scared him, so he resorted back to the old habit.’ He explained. I take in his deduction of his best mate with the only thought bearing through the surface is that he right. The Sherlock I know now is very different from the one I met all those years ago. That hard robotic exterior now has a beating heart. He cares more than he will want to admit but he really does.

I look at mop head beside me and beam. Since John is done with tending to my wounds, I roll my shirt back down and finally let the sleeping detective wrap himself around me. He does as soon as I placed a hand on his cheek, he rolls over to my side, draping an arm over my ribs and pulling me close like he’s always done, enveloping my side with his warmth, his head snuggling and hiding itself on the crook of my neck.

I’ve spent years thinking nobody gave a damn about me. Thinking no one cares if I was dead or not. Never have I ever been more pleased to be proven wrong. All those years alone, holed up, thinking I served no purpose to this world, ready to lose what I thought was a useless life only to be brought up the wide and bright opening and end of the cornucopia. I have friends, who will stay at my bedside just to make sure I wasn’t alone when I wake up from a gunshot. A god daughter, who’s laugh brightens up the darkest shadows cast upon us, who’s lost enough people in her few years in this rock. And a partner, fiancée, who’s meant more to me and evidently, I to him than more than we both ever thought possible. We’d be lost without each other, there’s enough evidence to prove it.

I gaze back at John, eyes getting a bit droopy, I’m surprised my mind has been making long hard thoughts. He’s just standing there, staring. Creepy admittedly, but also lovingly. Sentimental, possibly thinking of Mary.

‘Hey’ I say softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. ‘Go home. Sleep. Stay if you want tea from Mrs. Hudson but go home afterwards. Take the two if they’re still here. I’m going to sleep, just give Rosie a kiss for me and make everyone get some rest. Thank you again for staying with me at the hospital. Leave the mess, I’ll get it sorted.’ I instruct before a yawn escapes me. He looks back at the detective snuggled up at my side.

‘I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.’

‘And who taking care of you, he’s not the only one I’m worried about at the moment.’

‘I’ve got you lot now don’t I. I’ll phone you if I need anything. Right now, I just want to shut my eyes for a bit.’ I give him droopy smile, sleep really wanting to overcome my body. He bids his last warnings to take caution with my wounds and I wave him goodbye and goodnight. He nods and leaves the room, while I nestle myself better in the detective. His grip tightens and he nuzzles himself closer to my neck as I slowly drift off.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock angst #bbc sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock fanfic

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kenjimc · 3 years ago

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can you do a fic where everyone thinks camilo and reader are just really close friends until one day they're having a very intense make out session and just as it's getting good mirabel walks in and goes OH and when the boys run out to be like "it's not what you think" they also see Dolores covering her ears and she goes "i did not want to hear that" referring to the fact that she could hear what was going on

PLS 💀🤚 Tysm for this request

Warnings : slight smut ig, intense make out session 😻, I DONT KNOW SPANISH DUOLINGO DIDNT TEACH ME SHIT, the beginning kinda sucks

(Aged up)Camilo x M!Reader

Everything seemed to be going normal during dinner, you were smiling and laughing with the Madrigals. That was until you noticed Camilo’s fingers tapping and his eyes seemed to drift towards you before looking back at his food. Your attention was pulled away from him when Mirabel had asked you about your day. You decided not to worry about Camilo until after dinner.

You thanked everyone for the dinner before following Camilo to his room. “Hey, is something wrong, Camilo?” You asked as you two were heading towards his room. Camilo didn’t answer, instead he opened his door and urged you inside. When you two were inside you sat down on his bed, watching as Camilo walked over to you. You were about to ask if he was okay again but Camilo’s lips were on yours before you could say anything. Your eyes widened slightly but gladly returned the kiss. He climbed up on your lap and gently pushed you down onto the bed. “I missed this so much, mi amor,” he said, his lips gracing over yours. His hips began to roll into yours, making you let out a small groan. You couldn’t really say you didn’t miss this, with all of the work he’s had to do for everyone you two never really got to do this very often. Your hand gripped on his poncho(?) and he quickly removed it following with his shirt. He also removed yours and began placing kisses along your chest making you squirm. “F-Fuck..Camilo, you’re so good..” Your head leaned back onto the pillow as you covered your face with your arm. Camilo’s hand started to wonder down to your pants where he could see your growing, hard-

“Camilo, tia Pepa needs your help in the ki- WOAH-“

Your soul nearly left your body when you heard Mirabel’s voice followed by the door opening. Camilo screamed and jumped up off of you and frantically put his shirt back on. Mirabel was about to say something but decided to leave quietly. Camilo and you stared at each other trying to think of how you’re supposed to explain this. “Erm, you get dressed, I’ll go talk to them,” he let out an awkward laugh and quickly left the room.

You left Camilo’s room to go look for him, and you could see him frantically try to explain what was happening to Mirabel and Dolores, who was currently contemplating her existence who had already told Pepa about what she heard. You quickly rushed down to try and help explain but before you could Pepa rushed towards Camilo and gave him a hug. “My Camilo’s finally in love! I always knew you two were really close but I never expected..that close! Now you two were being safe right because you should always use prote-“ Camilo and you quickly talked over Pepa to try and make her stop talking. Well, this isn’t exactly how you two wanted to tell the family about you two but at least they seem to accept you both :}

Pls it sucks srry 😭

#reader insert #encanto x male reader #encanto #encanto x you #encanto x reader #Camilo #camilo x male reader #smut

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Interesting Encounters

Corpse Husband *& Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Paranoia and Fear of Invasion of Privacy

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse has an interesting run-in with his regular delivery girl, having the chance to talk to her for the first time despite her having been delivering to his door for months. It’s a big step in overcoming his anxiety and paranoia when talking to strangers.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! Hope you come across the final product of your request and give it a read and if so I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait, I hope it was worth it though! Love, Vy ❤

It’s a regular Monday morning, close to 10AM and Corpse’s face is practically glued to the sound editing app he’s downloaded, playing around with some cool effects to add to his voice in the background of the new song he’s been working on. He hasn’t been able to sleep a wink thanks to the immense excitement, not that he would’ve been able to regardless, but the tune and the lines have been stuck in his head all throughout the weekend and he knows they’ll be bothering him until he turns them into something other people will be able to listen and give an opinion on as well. So far he’s done plenty of work but there’s plenty more to go until it’s done. He’s at that point he usually needs feedback and wants to ask for it but would rather not to avoid either too harsh judgement or fake praise.

He slides the headset off, deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity before he drives himself to insanity with the intensity of his focus on this new piece. His brain just so conveniently sends him a reminder that his groceries are probably waiting for him outside the door. He has, as of the last half a year or so, had someone deliver his groceries to him to avoid trips to the grocery store with both the whole pandemic situation and the growth of following which translates to growth of the risk of him getting recognized. That’s the main reason - and maybe the only one - as to why he doesn’t interact with the people who deliver to him either. He always gives his delivery person the instruction to leave whatever he’s ordered at the doorstep and if it’s not takeout to not even ring the doorbell.

That being said, the deliverer of his groceries doesn’t ring the doorbell to give him the kind reminder to be responsible, but luckily he hasn’t forgotten to collect them yet in the six months he’s been practicing this delivery technique.

Going to the front door and looking out of the peephole, he confirms there are several full plastic bags waiting to be picked up on the mat. With the person who brought them not in sight, Corpse unlocks the door and steps out to bring in the groceries for the week. Taking them to the kitchen, he unpacks the goods in the three bags. At first glance he would’ve been fooled, seeing as how it seems that all he has ordered is there. But, each Monday, he receives exactly four bags of groceries. One is missing. He rolls his eyes thinking he didn’t see it outside and left it there while he was hurriedly collecting the rest so he gets up to go grab it real quick.

While in the meantime...

Y/N looks through the remainder of bags in her minivan, making a route in her head for what roads and shortcuts she can take to deliver the last of the groceries to the respective homes they need to be taken to. Upon looking through them, however, she sees a bag labeled ‘MM’ that she uses short for ‘Mystery Man’, aka the guy who never opens the door to greet her whenever she delivers him anything. She works for several delivery services such as takeout, groceries, clothes even and has delivered to that apartment hundreds of times but has never met the resident, giving her the right to call him Mystery Man, aka ‘MM’.

“Ah, shit.“ She mumbles under her breath, realizing she failed to grab the fourth bag when on her way up to MM’s apartment.

Coming to terms with the fact that she’ll have to lose another five minutes going back up to his floor, she grabs the bag and takes off running back inside the building and up the stairs, deciding it would be quicker than taking the elevator.

Just as she arrives to the floor, heading straight for the door, it opens, freezing her in her tracks as her eyebrows shoot up. At the doorstep stands a guy with an eye patch who looks more surprised and maybe even a little terrified than her. Taking in that Mystery Man is not such a mystery anymore, she returns to her professionalism, remaining at a distance and outstretching the hand holding the bag towards him.

“Sorry, forgot to drop this one off as well, I’m a bit all over the place today.“ She says in her most professional voice.

Corpse too regains his composure and takes the handed bag from Y/N gloved hand. Before he can think twice about it he says, “Thanks, uh...”

“Y/N.“ She says, “I’ve delivered to you countless times, it’s funny you don’t know my name but it’s to be expected since I’ve never seen you. This would be a good time to tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Mystery Man anymore.“ She laughs, cutting her own laughter off barely a second later when she realizes what she’s said, “Oh, fucking shit...”

Corpse chuckles, clear amusement in the sound, “Mystery Man? Interesting, interesting. If I ever become a superhero I’ll make sure to pick that name.” He fails to even pay mind to the fact that he’s spoken a lot more than he’d usually feel comfortable with.

Y/N laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise to come up with a better one if you’re not willing to tell me your real one. Like....Pirate, for example?” she suggests, raising her shoulders.

He can’t help but let out a laugh, “You’d be surprised, but my name is not so far from your mark. It’s, um....” He’s not looking forward to the judgmental look or the questions he might receive in response to his statement but he succumbs to the expected disappointment, “My name’s Corpse.”

Surprisingly, she just smiles - a smile he cannot see due to the surgical mask she’s wearing but the crinkle at the corners of her eyes gives it away. “Cool! Well, I better get going then.”

Just as she turns to head for the elevator this time, seeing as she’s still out of breath from the run up the stairs, Corpse gets an idea he’d probably not be too fond of if he gave himself time to think it over. Which is exactly why he didn’t.

“Hey!“ He calls after her, gaining her attention immediately, causing her to turn around, “You got a minute? I need a little help with something...“

Y/N’s eyebrows raise a little, a moment before she shrugs her shoulders, “Meh, I’m already behind schedule, what’s an extra minute gonna do?” And just like that, they strut their way back towards his apartment.

He can’t help but chuckle, taking the opportunity to crack a joke, “This is how people often get killed. You don’t just walk into a stranger’s apartment like that.”

She scoffs as she passes the threshold, “Believe it or not, you can learn a lot about a person based on the groceries they buy. And trust me buddy, you’re not a murderer.” Earning herself a laugh and a nod with that remark, she continues, “You do appear to be an artist with all the cheap food you’re buying though.”

Corpse laughs yet again, a hint of nervousness is sensed in his laugh this time around though, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re still gonna call me an artist when you hear this song I’ve been working on. Not even out of the box yet.”

Y/N stops in her tracks, “Well, well, well, aren’t I honored to be one of the lucky people hearing this before its release.”

“The first hearing it before its release.“ He corrects her with a pointed look, not missing the excitement that arose in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then!“

Of all the friendship stories that exist, no one can say this ain’t a unique one.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo @beatrhizn @blueberrystigma @beatrhizn @chicken-taco-burrito @scorpios-echos

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firstkokon0is · 3 years ago

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embarrassing moments with bonten during the nasty AJSDBDHBWEIUFCHJWH PLSPLPLS

Awkward moments with them during the nasty

NSFW!!! be warned dont read further if ur a minor pls🤨

with: BONTEN with fem!reader

cw: pure embarrassment

MIKEY

ah the first time you squirt on him while he’s eating u out

and he just kept his eyes closed

“did you just piss on me?”

you apologize immediately because he sounds so upset and you should’ve gave him a warning lmao

still think its hot tho

but the way he said “did u just pee on me” is probably the worst way of saying that

and both of you just went quiet after that its so awkward.

SANZU

accidentally slip it in your asshole

he’s going to fast and prolly because of your wetness too his dick slips out alot

until he accidentally put it in the wrong hole lol

who wouldn’t scream to the pain?

“OH SHIT- IM SORRY OH MY GOD SORRY” sanzu exclaimed and pulled out immediately

“IDIOT I TOLD YOU NOT THERE” u smacked him

he apologized again but continued to fuck you, but this time in the right hole

and after that you probably cant sit properly and the idiot just laugh at you

not regretting it what so ever, what do you expect its sanzu.

KAKUCHO

both of you decided to have a intense shower sex

he’s going so fast— desperate for his release that he ended up slipping, ass hitting the floor so hard

really? when he’s about to nut? that’s just embarrassing

“what the- kaku are you okay?” you look at the man on the floor, while still in the position— covering his face cuz of embarrassment

“god how embarrassing, i think i hit my head”

and….you ended up driving him to the hospital to get him checked

thank god he survived tho

AKASHI

he’s into weird position like

positions that makes your pussy queef

and thought you farted on him and chuckled

“kashi— would you go in properly— its queefing i guess” you managed to say in between his thrust

cue the randoms queefs lol

“how cute……you pussy’s making a noise, what did you eat huh” he again chuckled

then u smacked him on the head “ITS NOT FART— GO IN PROPERLY I SAID”

he still didn’t stop or what— go in properly

he kept on going it for his own entertainment since he discovered it

idk maybe he likes it or he loves it seeing you embarrass idk

RAN

classy man yes or not?

he tried those petals on the bed and floor in the fancy hotel he got

and candles everywhere — as the only light source in the room as it looks so romantic and lovely

ofc you guys ended up fucking, but those petals really itching your back and u cant tell him, he might feel bad

then he ended up knocking down one of those candles, the curtain caught the flame snd now there’s fire spreading

“fuck wait— im close…wait-wait” as he chased his own orgasm

“RAN WERE DYING GET OFF”

and people came in your room while you guys are still butt naked, plus the explaining that u guys need to do

he ended up paying for the damages

RINDOU

“rin….my clit..” you whined

he rubbed your labia instead thinking its the clit

rubbing it too fast too while looking at your reaction

its not just he got it wrong but he’s also dont know how to properly do it, but u dont wanna be mean

and even have the audacity to ask you

“why aren’t you moaning?”

you almost crack up but intead you guided his fingers on your clit

“thats the clit rin…..”

“oh….sorry i didn’t know”

bruh but keep on coming back to the labia

KOKO

probably that one time you gave him head

he didn’t tell you he’s about to cum that he literally shot his load down your throat

and you choked because of that— some even came out of your nose

you cough for like a good 5 minutes

“koko why didn’t you tell me- oh” you said followed by a cough

“damn im sorry i thought you already know im gnna cum- eh…..you need water?”

“GET ME ONE. NOW”

MOCHI

idk prolly threw you on the bed

and u hit your head on the headboard

knocked out

and you remember waking up to the hospital with bandages on your head

“my fucking god im sorry— its my fault i threw you” mochi on the floor kneeling and apologizing

“fuck you, i came to fuck you what did u do”

but u ended up forgiving the man bc he obviously didn’t mean it haha.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #bonten x reader #haitani brothers x reader #haitani ran #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers smut

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years ago

Note

because I need that good loving can I request Diluc and Zhongli reaction to seeing there SO dressed up for a formal event even though its not something they really like doing but because they dont want to make Diluc/Zhongli look bad in front of all these other people they put all their effort into looking like the human embodiment of attractiveness.

the way you look tonight

(okay so truth time - I thought about you the whole time I was writing this and forgot you requested it -- I hope the love of these boys reminds you that you are lovely <3!)

Warning -> SFW, fluff / comfort (cussing(1))(self-conscience reader)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Zhongli ⚘, Diluc

Zhongli

He finds your normal style of dress unique and interesting, it’s unlike most of the people who make up Liyue’s landscape and it’s independently you

When someone lives their life in the way they want to, that's what Zhongli admires the most about people, about humans

He doesn’t mind what you wear, he would want anyone to meet you, to see you regardless because through his eyes he sees your attractiveness - it’s in the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you react when something makes you excited or when he gives you a gift you don’t expect - how could he hide you away and not let others see the way you glow?

You look at yourself for the tenth time in the large circular mirror. An hour had gone by and you still felt unusual, out of place, like a fraud in this attire. For the, you’ve lost count, time you fuss with the fabric that sits against your stomach, tugging on it, wondering if you should leave it open or closed. The most frustrating thing about this is that you had no idea how to wear this damn thing.

Your head falls onto the vanity and you do your best to hold it all in. With a deep breath, you go back to messing with your hair and face. The ticking clock behind you reminds you that time is not your friend no matter how much you want it to stop.

This is so hard for you, of course, you want to be there for Zhongli - he was there for everything you ever did, it was beyond time to repay him - but you just couldn’t find the confidence to be proud of what you’d done. So, shaping the image in your brain into a distorted representation of what you wished you looked like, you stood from your small chair and walked toward the door of the bedroom.

Your shoes click on the hardwood floor which is something you hate, the thought of people hearing you coming only to see what appears from the source of the sound makes your skin crawl. Still, you pressed on, and that’s when your eyes fell onto the immaculate figure that stands near the entrance. His tall, elegant frame is so intense it knocks the wind from your lungs as if someone just punched you in the stomach. How can I stand next to that … you panic and turn to retreat back into the safety of the bedroom when your arms collide with a small table in the hallway.

Objects fall to the ground and, in a ridiculous display of your clumsy nature, you juggle one of the more breakable objects before catching it moments from shattering on the floor below.

“Whew …” You exclaim, bringing it close to your body. “Sorry, little guy didn’t mean to do that.” You wince, patting its side before place it back onto its home and picking up the other objects from the ground.

Long fingers enter your field of vision, startled you stand only to see Zhongli reaching down to assist you.

“Ah, sorry.” You express, crossing your arms after putting the items in your hands half-hazard onto the surface.

“No need to apologize, are you injured?” He asks, standing himself and reminding you how tall he is.

“My pride, maybe.” You share, laughing through your embarrassment.

“Too much of that and we might find ourselves in trouble anyway.” He looks down at you, his eyes scanning, interested and making you shift under their gaze. “You …”

“I know... I look so strange, and,” you begin, fussing with the top again, “I can’t seem to get this right.” Turning around you show him what you were talking about and how it seems far too loose.

He laughs softly and you feel his hands run underneath the edge of the fabric and coming to rest at the wrap at your waist. “Let me assist you.”

“Thank you …” He’s so close to you, his hands move expertly as they work to correct your inadequacies, eyes compassionate, patient as they always are.

“This outfit suits you.”

“Does it really? I look so … I mean this isn’t something I would normally wear. In fact,” You think for a minute before continuing, “I can’t remember the last time I dressed up for something other than adventuring. It’s not practical to go running through ruins in this type of getup.” You explain, lifting your arms and watching how the fabric slips down to your elbows before sliding back to your wrists as they collide with your legs.

“That could turn things into quite the challenge I’d imagine.”

“Exactly.”

“Nevertheless, you will turn quite a many heads upon our arrival.”

“That’s what I'm afraid of …” You mumble, forgetting that he is close enough to hear you.

“Y/N, need I remind you how spectacular you look.”

You bite your lip but your insecurities make you speak anyway, “I just don’t see how I have the right to stand next to you, I don’t want you to be … ashamed of me.” The end of your sentence trails off as you look to the ground. Zhongli doesn’t respond until his hands stop fixing your gown. With comforting fingers he presses against the soft underbelly of your chin, lifting your head at the angle it should be.

“While I am beyond sure you can hear me, I hope that you can trust me as well when I tell you that every day I am honored to stand at your side. There is nothing in this world which compares to your beauty, in fact, you are more radiant than the moon itself.” He leans in to place a kiss against your forehead.

“You don’t wish I was … more attractive?”

“I cannot wish for a thing that holds no bearing on reality.”

“Mmm.”

“If my words have not reached you, perhaps I can better express my truth through actions …” He pulled you flush against him, his hands now wrapped around your hips and eyes focused on your lips.

“Aa! Wait … no, I believe you.” Embarrassed, you push away from him and make your way toward the door. “Let’s just go because if I get out of this thing I won’t be putting it back on.” You huff, smoothing out the wrinkles.

“Shall we?” He reaches for your hand and easily you take it.

“Let’s do this.” With a lighthearted Zhongli, you exit your home and head toward the lively sounds drifting over the water.

Diluc

He already thinks you are so incredibly attractive no matter what you wear - he knows you’re one for practicality, from your actions to your clothes, you are ready to go and prepared for whatever will come your way - a trait he admires

There is something adorable about the way you fall out of bed in the morning and, in some cases, take less time than he does to get ready - it can come in handy where there much work to be done

He never asks for you to be more than what you are - he honestly wouldn’t care what other people thought about you, all that matters is you believe him when he tells you how good you look or how you make his heart clench

So when he sees you descend the stairs in an outfit, a formal, totally out-of-the-absolute-norm outfit, he’s stunned

“Crap.” You say, flinging the jewelry you couldn’t decide on anyway back toward the dresser. You’d taken far too long to get ready, even though you started hours ago, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel confident and finished. Glancing at your reflection one last time, you gave up with a heavy sigh and made your way down the hallway.

You could already see everyone else in their formal attire ready to go, even the attendants looked better than you did. When you caught sight of Diluc your steps slowed and for a solid minute to you debated about turning around and hiding under the comfortable covers of the bed you loathed getting out of this morning.

“Ah, there you are! Are you ready?” Adaline shouted from below you and like a scene from a nightmare everyone turned to look up at you. You stumbled backward and felt your chest tighten, eyes scanning each face as you debated on your next action. When they fell onto Diluc’s stoic eyes, you felt a little bit of relief and knew all you had to do was make it down to him.

Slowly, you started again and, with a deathlike grip on the railing, you made your way down the stairs. Diluc met you at the bottom, his hand extended to take yours.

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t figure out what would pair well with … this thing.” You gestured at your outfit and looked behind him, thankful that people had already started to leave through the front door. “Do I … look okay?”

With an awkward smile, you waited for his answer, hopeful that he wouldn’t have to struggle so hard to lie to you. I mean, when you were able to see him in his suit, the way it perfectly fits around his toned body, the fabric tucked in all the right places, the sleeves just long enough to give one a peek of skin underneath - there was no way you compared to him.

He looked at you for so long your heart started to feel like a thousand knives were stabbing you in all directions. He hates this … he can’t believe that I’m such a disaster. The thoughts circulate in your brain and just as your about to rush back up the stairs and hide he lifts your fingers to his lips and kisses them with so much love.

“I apologize … I’m just a bit startled is all.” Your stomach drops to your feet at his words.

“Archons, is it that bad? Did I put something on wrong … or?”

“Nothing like that,” He kisses your palm and the action makes your spine turn hot, “You look unbelievable, is what I wanted to say.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” He looks at you but you shy away from his eyes. “Y/N, do you trust me?”

“What … of course I trust you.” You reply, flabbergasted.

“Then trust me now.” He pulls you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your neck, his hand resting at the back of your head. “I’ve never seen someone as brilliant as you.”

Fueled by your emotions, you return his hug, squeezing your arms around his waist and doing your best not to let your face be ruined by the tears that want to fall from stinging eyes. “Thank you, I’ll trust you on this … today.”

“I don’t have any issues reminding you again and again.” Shouting outside tells you that it’s now or never and, as much as you don’t want to, your arms release each other. “Are you ready?” He asks, offering you his arm, and with a deep inhale and sharp nod, you take it and walk through the doors.

----

taglist: @star-gods @mercurysmaiden @dourpeep @clemmywrites @pepperoncinipizza @handswritteeen @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @lucifucker @beelsdessert @coolcats09 @ninqat @musekala @sufzku @mooshymello @heavenlyang @plenilunegazes @odafashioned @glazelilyy

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #diluc X reader #diluc #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #Zhongli X reader #zhongli #genshin zhongli

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xreaderbooks · 4 years ago

Text

Two sides (2)

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Summary: Y/N has been in love with Cassian for centuries now, Just how Azriel has been with Mor. Both heartbroken by their unrequited love they fall into a routine of 'one-night stands', Not realizing their each others mate.

Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: So I dont know how accurate the mate information is, like I said before I haven’t read the ACOTAR series since 2019 so I probably got a couple things wrong or didn’t write the characters the way you would expect them to act. I chose to make them more how they would be in head canons if you get what I mean. Either way I really hope you enjoyed the 2nd and final part to Two sides :) Feel free to send requests for Azriel or any other Acotar characters. Thank you all for the support <3

"We need to talk."

"Okay," Azriel says skeptically, he walks over to sit on the chair across from you.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night," You shifted in your seat as you spoke, you were noticeably uncomfortable. That bothered Azriel, he wanted you to feel natural not forced, he didn't know where that desire came from but it was true. Even if this conversation was a bit awkward. "I never meant to make you feel used, I guess, I just needed a distraction."

"From seeing Cassian and Nesta together?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded. "Y/N, I didn't feel used." He let out a small chuckle. "I enjoyed it, actually. And a bit flattered that you chose to-" He coughed awkwardly, "share that part of yourself with me." You grinned. You eased up a bit after knowing that Azriel didn't feel bad about what happened the other night, and even enjoyed it. It also warmed your heart at the fact that this was one of the rare moments that he felt comfortable enough to talk about how he was feeling. Despite it probably being out of sympathy or to defuse the tension.

"Oh," You chirped "well good. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up our friendship."

He shook his head, "Y/N you've done a lot in the past few centuries that could've fucked up this friendship and we're still okay, better than okay considering. Besides Mor and I are still friends even after..." He tensed up, you went over to him and hesitantly put your hand on top of his.

"I know." You gave him a small smile. "I have an idea, I'll admit it's not my brightest but it will benefit the both of us."

His eyebrow quirked, "Your ideas are never the brightest, that's why you're just my second."

"Okay, wow." You blinked, removing your hand, and started pacing around the room. "First Rhys made me your second because I'm good at my job and you're just better cause of your shadows." He glared at you when you made the comment about his shadows. "Two, I've had a couple of good ideas in the past you just never go through with them."

"Maybe it's because all your ideas are reckless and we'd get caught if we did our job by using your so-called good ideas." He got up to meet you when you turned around to face the other way, you were met by his chest in your way.

You huffed when you looked up at him. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you were going to like this one." He gave a nod to continue. "I- you know what I think it's better if I just show you."

He cocked his head to the side. You took this as an opportunity to grab him by the back of his neck and slammed your lips onto his. Immediately after he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. He started walking backward, leading you towards one of the bedrooms. Your foreheads pressed together but you paused from kissing him, catching your breath. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating quicker by the second, his heart was beating faster too. It gave you all the encouragement you needed to start taking off your clothes.

"So this was your bright idea," Azriel asked, while also hurriedly taking off his clothes.

"Mhm." Was your response before nodding and relocating your lips onto his.

The intensity of it made your heart stutter. You wanted him and at that moment he wanted you. He truly wanted you, you both felt it and took that feeling, using it to fuel the passion in that kiss. He moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at it. You moved your hand to slowly graze his wings, which made him freeze. Azriel gave you a look that made your body go on overdrive.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to "eat your neck" as Cassian had said all those days before. You rolled your eyes at the thought, but then they rolled back as Azriel bit at a sensitive area that intensified that already intoxicating feeling you got when you were with him.

And you wished it never ended.

~~~

"How do you feel about this?" You asked, hoping he'd be okay with it. So far he hadn't opposed.

"I don't want to hurt you." He confessed. You knew he meant physically, he could be a little rough sometimes. You were okay with that though, You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"I'm serious Y/N." He looked you in the eye. You were back at the training grounds of the Illyrian camp. You didn't specify any details, so you both didn't care about speaking in public.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it." You began to walk ahead of him, He grabbed your forearm and pulled you back to face him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Only if you're sure."

Your smile faded once you saw that he was genuinely concerned. "Az, you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."

He froze and let you go. He had a hard time letting people see how he was feeling but you could tell he was struggling with letting you in and his self-deprecation.

~~~

You had kept your secret "relationship" hidden from everyone else, as much as you could. It didn't take long. They were extremely nosy and it was difficult with Mor being your best friend. She always knew when you were lying and had insisted you were acting differently. You would always blow it off and say you had a good day, telling a random story you just thought of on the spot.

Cassian had continued to tease you about your secret lover-- which only intrigued Mor even further-- you avoided the truth most of the time. You and Azriel would be extra careful when doing what you did. Sometimes even going to Inns and you would both winnow to the location.

Going through all that trouble only for Amren to find out and threaten to tell the others. She tried to blackmail you into buying her a pure diamond bracelet. As if she couldn't afford it yourself. You talked to Azriel about it and you both decided you didn't care if anyone else knew, it's only a matter of time before they found out anyway. Plus you could use the money to buy a house somewhere private in Velaris. You enjoyed the privacy and lack of teasing for as long as it lasted.

Amren didn't tell but as you predicted, everyone did find out. Some already had suspicions like Mor, Rhys, and Feyre. Amren wouldn't have known if she hadn't caught you both and Cassian never would have thought. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed at him not showing any sign of jealousy. You knew he wouldn't be, being caught up with Nesta and all but you still held hope. You considered yourself a fool and would try to fuck the feelings out of you with Azriel. And most of the time it worked.

~~~

Months went by as sleeping with your best friend became your new normal. You never would have thought that you'd be one of those mysterious girls that Azriel hooked up with, ever since that night, you were the only girl. You had to admit, you liked the idea; being Azriel's only girl. But you knew that although you would be the only girl in his bed, Mor will always be on his mind. Not that you blamed him, you were still somewhat hung up on Cassian. After you can't get rid of 500+ years of feelings.

As you laid next to Azriel, who now stayed nights instead of leaving right after, You admired his tattoos, the intricate designs, you fought the urge to trace them. You did anyways but only a centimeter away from his chest so you wouldn't wake him. In the morning light that slipped through a slight gap in your curtains, It shone right on him. He looked ethereal.

You always knew he was attractive most Illyrian men were, at least if they weren't assholes most of the time. You had time now, to actually take in his beauty. You could never understand how someone so beautiful and kind could be so broken. You guessed that's why you chose him to spend your nights with, instead of some random guy. You could help him and heal him and get him to appreciate himself more.

The shadows around him became more active, it made him tense up. He was awake. You lifted your hand up to up to move the stray hair that fell onto his face. At that moment, you felt your world shift an overwhelming sensation of love and adoration consumed your body and you snatched your hand away from him. You were in pure shock.

'Holy fuck' Was the only thing going through your head.

"What's wrong?"He questioned as if he could sense your distress. His voice hoarse from just waking up.

"Nothing." You said, immediately getting up and getting dressed in whatever you had closest to you. "You should, um, You should get going. I have a lot of reports to do, I've been holding them off but Rhys has been asking me for them for the longest so I should get on it."

Azriel sat up, the bed sheet covering one leg and another part. His perfectly sculpted body in your bed, the lighting, half of his leg uncovered by the blanket. You tried to compose yourself to figure out what you would do. Hoping that he didn't pick up on how different you were acting. It was no use he probably already expected something was up.

To try to ease the tension you sat next to him, brushing the hair out of his face, dragging your fingertips down to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek. You ignored the tingles you felt as his face nuzzled into your hand. Hesitantly, you remove your hand and got up from the bed, and sat at the desk you had in your room. You pretended to read through old letters from officials.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. He got dressed and pressed a kiss to the back of your head before he left.

He definitely knew something, that's not how your mornings usually go. You would at least spend an hour or two together either talking or enjoying each other's presence before sending each other off to your respective duties. However due to your new discovery of Azriel being your mate. You panicked. What would you do now?

~~~

Hours had passed and you hadn't left your room, choosing to focus on the reports that you did in fact, have to do. Rhys just wasn't expecting them for another week or so. Mor then busted into your room. "Knock, knock bitch."

"Uh, hello gorgeous, didn't expect a lovely visit from you today." You said sarcastically, turning your chair to face her. She dropped the shopping bags onto your floor. You lifted a brow in question.

"We're going on a trip!"

"I'm busy." You turned back around to focus on what you were writing.

"It's a fun work one." You twisted your chair around again.

"How do you mean?"

"Day court gala, bonding with people, gaining trust, and all that." She waved it off as if you didn't need to know actual information. You decided you'd ask for details from Rhysand later.

"And you went shopping." You gestured to all of the bags. "like you don't have tons of outfits you could take."

"Well of course I do. These are for you." She grinned.

"W-what?"

"Just because you're supposed to be invisible and all that, doesn't mean you have to be like that all the time." She referred to your job description, being another spy for Rhysand, relying on you being a woman to get information from people Azriel couldn't. Kind of ridiculous considering Azriel's shadows allowed him to get all the information needed but it was an easy enough job. Unlike Az, you didn't have shadows to command so you stuck to your black outfits tunics, and suits that would help you move easily. You never really dressed up, unless it was for an occasion, but you enjoyed doing it when you could. Most of the time you would be on duty or something like it so you couldn't.

This Gala gave you the perfect excuse too. You were thankful to Mor for having bought you these dresses and accessories. You were pretty sure you had worn all the dresses you had in your closet already.

"Yeah, you're right." You gave her a half-smile. Part of you wondered what Azriel's reaction would be to you in one of these revealing dresses. You shook the thought from your head. You would dress for yourself not for some male, even if that male is your mate.

You debated whether to tell Mor or not. She might be able to help you with your internal battle. Part of you was hurt about Cassian not being your mate. Another part always knew that he wasn't, and another part of you wondered how Azriel would react. Did he feel the bond snap into place? Or was it a Feyre-Rhysand situation where the bond would snap into place at another moment? Would he reject you cause you weren't Mor?

You opted to tell Mor at the day court where you would have more space and privacy from the others.

~~~

Helion's words about uniting and bonding were very heartwarming and kind, but you couldn't get past the thoughts that swarmed your mind. You took advantage of this time with everyone listening to Helions welcoming speech and sneakily made your way over to where Mor was standing. You pretended to greet her with a kiss and whispered in her ear to meet you in the room you were staying at.

"Thank the cauldron you came along, Helion was droning on and was about to make me fall asleep." She joked as she sauntered into your room. She paused her amused tone as soon as she saw your face. "You were fine like two minutes ago."

"Glad to know, I'm good at hiding it." You forced a smile. She tilted her head as if to ask you 'what's wrong', so you told her. You told her that Azriel was your mate and how it happened. You told her of your fears of rejection and confusion with your love for Cassian. It was a different love now, you felt it. There was a shift in what you felt towards Cassian and more intense feelings for Azriel. You suspected the bond but you didn't mind it. You then opened up about your insecurity about him rejecting you for her. Which she shut down, though she knew what you meant.

"Mor, Azriel loves you, like I loved Cassian. What if his love for you is stronger and he refuses to let go. We all know the only reason he never went for you is his trouble with his self-worth." Those were harsh words, but they were true. "He could easily reject me for you, knowing you don't love him in that way."

"You don't know that Y/N. And you loved Cassian, probably as much as Azriel loved me. After all this time you spent together, you truly don't think he would have changed the way he feels for me?" She grabbed your hand in hers. "You and Azriel are like two sides of the same coin, he's all dark and brooding and you, well you're the same in some ways. But you bring out the light and you can cast out all of his darkness with a simple smile."

"I don't know." You whispered. You were scared. Your feelings for Azriel already began to grow, without the bond, with it in place now it was strengthened. Your feelings for Cassian was a background noise that would soon grow into a more familial type of love.

"What should I do Mor?" You whimpered, you put your face in your hands. "I feel like a girl with a crush. This is ridiculous."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is. On the bright side, if he doesn't know about you being mates, you could still have fun with other people."

You gave her a look. "You forget that he's my designated person to 'have fun' with."

"I didn't know you had a conversation on exclusivity." She shrugged and walked over to the cart that had alcoholic drinks, at the corner of the room.

"Technically we did when we agreed to sleep with each other when we felt like it." You reasoned.

"Hm." She mused, sipping on her drink. "I still say enjoy tonight, dance with a few males, or females, and if you two end up having sex with him again just enjoy the time you have with him."

"Thanks for the talk, Mor."

"Of course darling, by the way, I highly doubt he'll reject you. If he does he's an idiot and I'll kill him." She sent a wink your way and left you in your room to think.

~~~

Azriel watched as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. A man who he didn't know came up from behind you, keeping up with you. That was the first of many. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. He attempted to force that emotion down. He couldn't understand where that was coming from.

He was keeping watch, even though he always made sure to keep a lookout for danger to his court. Mor and Cassian tried to get him to ease up, he didn't budge. Who would pry Cassian from more liquor when he's had enough to drink if Azriel wasn't sober? He used the excuse of being the only responsible one to keep an eye on her. Y/n, Azriel thought he knew what it was to love someone because of Mor but what Azriel felt for Y/N was different. It felt raw and real and whatever it was, was growing fast. She was easy to talk to, not that he did much of that but she listened, actually listened when he did, and she didn't pry or hover as much as the others. They tend to beat around the bush when wanting to know about what was going on with him. Unlike Y/N who would take her time to make sure he felt comfortable and if, he wasn't, she would change the topic and act normal.

Y/N was a calming presence that allowed him to just be. She brought out another side of him that he thought he could never be.

That's why when he felt a change in the way he saw her dancing with a new guy than the one she was with earlier, it all made sense. She was his mate. He saw red as he practically flew to where they were. The fae males' hands that were roaming your bonds were ripped away from you and he dragged him away. Azriel pinned the man against the wall. People began to stare and talk in hushed whispers, appalled at the sight.

"Never touch my mate, again." He growled. He dug his fingers into the guy's neck.

"I-I didn't know." The man choked out.

"Well, now you do." He muttered, letting the man slump to the ground. He went over to where you were standing, eyes wide. His eyes softened while looking at you. He slowed as he got to you. "Can we talk?"

You nodded your head and began to walk toward an empty hall.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He kept his voice low but soft. He was afraid, you would want to run away.

"You didn't." You stood there staring at him. You tried to figure him out, to no avail. His face was always stoic. "I- I thought you'd reject me and now I don't know what to do." You confessed.

"You knew?" He tried to recall if you had acted any differently. His shadows had felt the change in your demeanor and set out in whispers when you were rushing him out. He brushed it off, he should've looked more into it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel unwanted or rejected.

"Since yesterday morning." You confirmed. Your anxiety consumed you, you heard of the pain that came along with being rejected by your mate. Some have died from it. Little did you know Azriel was worrying about the same exact thing. Not thinking himself worthy enough of your affection. He allowed himself the pleasure of being in bed with you, assuming it was nothing more and he couldn't get hurt you or be hurt that way. It was a release from another pain you both had the displeasure of feeling.

"I want you to know it is an honor to have you as my mate." He took a step closer.

"Really? Honestly, I thought..." You shook your head. "Nevermind."

He looked confused but let it go, if you wanted to tell him you would. "Guess this means I have to go cook you something." You let out a laugh. He smiled an actual wide beautiful smile. Azriel grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was soon interrupted by a very drunk Mor who shouted, "Finally!"

Cassian was right behind her, "Mor! I forgot where the bathroom was, can y-" He paused looking between you and Azriel. "Oooh getting freaky in the hall, that's new. Hey Y/N if he isn't hitting it right, you know where to find me." He winked at you. Azriel gave him a murderous look, putting his arm in front of you. 'So he's gonna be one of those', you thought.

You couldn't wait till the second part of the mating process.

Tags: @wildchild2707 ,@theworthlessqueen ,@ciciakai ,@rockinginneverland

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raggaraddy · 4 years ago

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hello, so if you still take requests i want to request yandere reaction where the reader is as possesive as them, or like she willingly do anything for them and obey them. its totally okay if you dont feel like writing it or maybe you dont take request.. its just im craving reading something like that and youre a great writer :)

A/N: Hi, I am still new to writing reactions, so I hope that this is what you wanted or you at least like it. Thank you for your sweet comments. Enjoy!

Mine

Summary: When another girl gets a little too comfortable with Jungkook your reaction's a surprise to the both of you.

Trigger warnings: Fighting, mentions of abuse, violence.

Jungkook

You had begged Jungkook to take you with him tonight. He'd been so busy with work lately and you'd found yourself missing him too much when he was gone. So when he said he wasn't staying home tonight, but he was instead going out to a bar with some of his friends, you were enthusiastic for him to take you with him. It had used to be the complete opposite. Every time he left you alone, gave you some time to breathe on your own, you were thrilled. But more and more you'd started noticing him in a new light.

Sure he's rough and demanding sometimes. And yeah, he can lose his temper every now and then. But you're not perfect either, and you know it must be hard for him, especially when you behaved so insensitively at first. However, despite your flaws or his, he deeply loves you. He accepts you for who you are and he wants nothing more than to keep you safe. How could you ever find anyone else who cared for you as much as your Kookie did?

The night started as every night out with Jungkook did. He listed out the same rules over that he had said dozens of times before.

You have to listen to everything he says and do everything he says. You don't talk to anyone unless he's with you, and most importantly, you never leave his sight. You had tried to run off a few times in the past, so you knew how deathly serious he was about that last one.

After thoroughly prepping you, and dressing you, and warning you one last time to mind the rules, the both of you finally went to meet his friends.

"Sit. Here." Jungkook pointed to the booth table at the back of the bar. You slid in and he right away pushed in alongside you, nudging you in further and further until you were all but barricaded against the wall. As his friends began to come in one by one, they all joined in a large group. While the night went on, you talked among his friends and their girlfriends. A few people got food, but most people were just drinking to excess. You of course got the choice of soda or water. Every now and then throughout the evening, you could feel JK's attention on you, and you would hug his arm a little tighter to let him know you were paying attention to him too.

At some point, it was Jungkooks turn to buy the next round.

"Y/n." He whispered lowly. Even in the middle of a conversation and with the music playing in the background, his voice caught your focus right away. You looked up to him, a small smile and big eyes. "I'll be back in a few minutes." His lips pressed to your ear, his warm breath blowing along your neck spiking tingles down your side. "If you even try to move while I'm gone, I'm going to pin you to the table by putting this butter knife through your hand." He twirls the point of the dull knife into the table, scratching the wood.

Your smile grows a little bit bigger at his threat. Not because you think he wouldn't do it, but because you know there is no way he would ever need to do it. You're not going anywhere.

Your fingers linger with his, holding on for a few seconds extra as he gets up. While the conversations go on, your concentration keeps flicking to Kookie. Watching every now and then to make sure he hasn't left your sight either.

On one momentary glance, you catch sight of some random woman standing too close to him. They're at the bar, and it's quite crowded so it could be nothing, but she doesn't look like she is ordering drinks. She's completely facing him. Talking to him.

Slowly your frustration starts to build as a few minutes pass and they stay in the same position. You don't know who she is, you've never seen her before. Jungkook's body language expresses that he doesn't know her as well. She, however, is acting way too familiar. Laughing, smiling, flicking her hair and pushing her chest out like some kind of desperate slut.

You're trying to let it pass. But after only about 10 minutes of silent stewing, that's all you can tolerate. You know your Kookie has no interest in any other girls. He's just too innocent to realize that this girl is flirting with him. That, or he is only trying to be polite.

She crosses the line though when she decides to put her hand on his arm.

He might have told you to stay in your seat, and you know he is going to at the very least slap you for willingly going against his rules, but you have had enough and you're not going to allow this bitch to paw all over him anymore.

Shuffling out of the booth, you take heavy, furious steps towards them. The second you're in reach you draw against Jungkooks side, wrapping your arm around his. At the same time, you roughly and forcefully shove the heel of your palm into this girls shoulder, knocking her back and off of him. She stumbles looking shocked and fleetingly frightened. You're not done sending a message yet.

"The next part of you that tries to touch him is going to get stabbed!" You growl. Jungkook leans back a little to look at you. A mix of intrigue and surprise coming together to form a smirk on his face. It's not just from the forceful action you made, but also the confident, ruthless way you spoke to intimidate her.

This woman is dumb though. She either doesn't see or doesn't understand how sincerely you made that threat. "Wow," she scoffs. Yelling, trying to be louder than the music, "Is this your girlfriend? She's a psycho." she mocks, stepping forward, speaking directly to Jungkook. You pull yourself in front of him, dragging his hand around your waist to wrap on your hip, your fingers lacing over the top of his. Even with you standing between them, eyes burning with hostility she still doesn't back down. "If you want a cool girlfriend, you can come home with me, baby." She propositions him, with the cherry on top of calling him baby. Calling your Kookie baby! Who the fuck does this bitch think she is?!

You snap forward and slam your curled up fist into her face as hard as you can. She mustn't have been expecting that at all because she falls like a ton of bricks. Knocking into two or three other people behind her before she ultimately falls on to the floor.

Honestly, you've never hit someone before, and you didn't realize it would hurt so much. So you have to quickly shake your hand feeling the bones bruised and jarred. You regain your composure by the time she can gain hers and looks back up to you. You step over the top of her getting into her personal space. "Go find someone else to be a pathetic whore with." You snap. "He's mine!"

She scrambles out from under you and back to her feet, sensibly darting away. Over your shoulder, you can see Jungkook taking control of the consequences of your interaction, assuaging the bartender's concerns. JK knows them all, so if they know that it's him, they're not going to make a fuss over it, they'll just let it go and assume there was a good reason.

You latch onto him again as he focuses back on you. Grabbing your hands into his shirt, you hold him closer. "Don't let other girls touch you." You whine, taking the aggression out of your voice when you talk with him, but not the seriousness.

"Why? Because I'm yours?" He looks down with a smug smile, and a salacious glimmer in his gaze. His tongue running over the inside of his cheek.

You're still so pent up and frustrated, you just want to be as close to him as you can be for comfort. You press your whole body flat to him, feeling warmed by the firm shape of his arms and chest. "Yes, you're mine."

He insists on a small amount of space between you two, gripping onto your upper arms harshly he pushes you back. His free hand comes up and his fingers cling into your jaw keeping you still.

This is it. You knew he was going to hurt you for disobeying. But honestly, it was worth it to keep her off of him.

Looking down at you so intensely, he isn't reacting the way you had expected. His eyes are instead filled with an infatuated allure that's making your stomach tingle and your cheeks feel warm. He rests his mouth next to your ear like he had earlier. "That was so fucking hot Kitten." His teeth nip at your ear lobe, making you shiver. "We're leaving. Just wait until I get you alone. I'm gonna prove I'm yours."

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts smut #yandere bangtan #yandere jungkook #bts reactions #bts requests #jungkook

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silversatoru · 4 years ago

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Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have.

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you.

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern.

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge.

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed.

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse.

“That’s an order, cadet”.

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety.

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine. Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself.

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul.

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions.

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something?

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again.

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts.

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face.

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you.

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”.

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?”

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head.

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway.

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?”

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”.

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore.

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words.

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up.

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth.

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again.

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed.

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”.

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear.

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least.

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips.

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”.

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it.

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long.

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress.

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit

#attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #levi hurt comfort #attack on titan x gn!reader

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latenightdecaf · 3 years ago

Text

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts roommate au #yoongi fics #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #roommate!yoongi #producer!yoongi #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #exboyfriend!joon

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keichanz · 3 years ago

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no words

guys. i'm... i just. i am just speechless. i???

it's 7 am as i write this now. i didn't get much sleep, but i needed to get up to call into work and let them know what's going on. i already plan on going back to bed or just taking a nap. i checked my bank account this morning and winced, because my rent had already been taken out, but not my gas yet.

so. i. check my email, right. and guys.

guys.

i am....fucking floored. at the amount of paypal notifications. i saw in my inbox.

i immediately logged into paypal and i shit you not guys three things happened: i nearly choked on my coffee, stared in disbelief for about five minutes, and then i cried.

i bawled. guys....im. i don't know what to say. that number. in my paypal. i was not expecting that. at all. and it's all because of you guys and i'm still sitting here crying as i write this because guys words cannot begin to describe the depth of my gratefulness, the genuine and profound love i feel for every single one of you that heeded my plea and decided to help me out. believe me when i say that i was NOT expecting to receive so much help, but guys you made it possible for me to pay not only my rent and my gas bill, but have groceries delivered while i stay at home with covid and i just. i'm seriously speechless.

i'm still crying i can't say it enough guys. thank you. thank you thank you thank you all so fucking much for helping me out to the extent that you did. i truly honest to god am floored with your generosity and kindness and god i just i love you all so fucking much you don't even know. you guys saved me. here i am begging for scraps because my job is shit and they don't pay me enough and my friends, all of you guys, swooped in and so selflessly picked me up off of the floor and gave me a gourmet fucking meal and i cannot thank you all enough.

i won't tag any names, because you all know who you are, but i want each and every one of you to know how much this means to me. i suffer from self-worth issues, something that no doubt developed form being bullied in high school so much, which is part of the reason why it's so difficult for me to ask for help when i feel i don't deserve it, and here you guys are, helping me out with no regard, no problem, and i'm just honestly so....i dont even know. literally i don't have the words to express what i'm feeling right now. just know that i'im so fucking grateful and i love you all so so so much and i want you all to know if i could i would prostrate myself onto the ground and vow my undying loyalty to you all, that if there was ever a time whenever our roles are reversed, i will the be FIRST one to swoop in and do what i can do help. i hope you all know that.

;ljsldkfla;jdfl;kasldfja;lsdjfl;asf okay. okay i've rambled long enough. i didn't mean for this to get so long, but. fucking hell i'm just still in a state of shock and delirium and gratefulness and intense relief i'm on fucking cloud nine right now despite the fact i can barely keep my eyes open. i wonder how many typops are in this post ;lajsdfk;af

one last time:

thank you. truly, deeply, genuinely, thank you all, my wonderful friends. i love you all so much. i seriously can't say that enough. and you will be getting that oneshot soon! that i can definitely promise!

#BRB STILL CRYING #IM JUST #;ALSJDF;AJFD #GUYS #im still reeling #im so fucking blessed and grateful to have amazing frieinds like all of you in my life!#please please if there is ANYTHIGN i can do for any of you dont hesitate to ask!! ill do my best!!#😭😭😭😭#❤️❤️❤️❤️

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kitsunekissesxo · 4 years ago

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Demon Bros Pet Names HCs and Scenarios

Demon Brothers Pet Names Headcanons and Kiss Scenarios

Summary: Headcanons of the brother’s petnames for you, vice versa, gender neutral MC, fluff kisses <3

Warnings: Implied nsfw, suggestive, somewhat explicit

Lucifer:

Oh, Lucifer. This man may seem cold but on the inside, and when the two of you are alone, he’s the biggest softie. Like, big softie.

His pet names are more...traditional, if you will. He absolutely despises pet names such as baby, babe, honey, etc., so don’t expect him to use them. If you use them on him, expect a wrinkled nose and a grimace.

His personal favorites are my beloved, my rose, my darling, my love, my dear. He’s very possessive of you and intends to make sure his pet names for you further prove that.

He allows you to call him Luci and LuLu when you’re alone, and, even though he vehemently denies it, he finds it incredibly endearing. Other than that, he isn’t very fond of pet names for himself.

However, he simply adores when you call him your love. He might be possessive of you, but it fills him with so much pride knowing that you want others to know he’s yours as well.

During sex, you 100% call him Daddy and Sir if you’re into that. If not, his love-making is so intense that you can only manage to utter out his name- and he loves that. It really strokes his ego wink wink

Lucifer absolutely adores calling you princess/my prince during sex, no matter what the mood is. He finds the way it makes your face flush irresistible.

“Luuuuciiiiii,” you whined out impatiently, attempting to get your boyfriend’s attention. He’d had his nose stuck in paperwork for hours now and you were in some serious need of attention. “You haven’t so much as looked up at me in the past, like, 10 hours,” you pouted.

Finally he raised his head to lock eyes with you. Dark circles marred his beautifully pale skin, showing the effect of the overwhelming workload he was forcing himself to push through. You felt your heart ache at the sight of him, all signs of impatience leaving you to be replaced with a look of worry.

He gave you a weak smile while resting his head in his hand. All you wanted was to wrap him up in your arms and play with his hair as he napped against your chest. So that’s exactly what you went to do- love him.

You stepped towards him, his tired eyes looking up at you quizically.

“My love, please take a break. You’re exhausted. Please,” you softly pleaded, reaching your hand out to hold his cheek, thumb swiping back and forth soothingly.

He closed his eyes and pressed himself into your hand, letting out a content sigh, bringing his own hand up to hold yours to his face. Your heart swelled with love- early on the in the relationship, he’d flinch when you’d try to touch him. Now he treasured every carress you had to offer.

“Come here darling,” he murmured, motioning for you to climb into his lap. You did as he asked, straddling his lap and lacing your hands together at the nape of his neck.

The way he looked at you with such adoration made your heart race. You leaned down to capture his lips in a sweet, loving kiss. His hands came up to press you closer to him, one hand threading into your hair and the other pressing on your lower back. Your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck.

He pulled away slightly to whisper against your lips,

“You always know how to stir up these feelings in me, my dear.”

Mammon:

This man adores the cheesy petnames. Like the tsundere he is though, he denies it with a blush so intense it reaches his ears.

He doesn’t even use petnames for you when your relationship first begins. The tsundere is strong with this one.

At first, it seems like all he ever wants to call you is “his human”. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed

Until one fateful day, he called you. You picked up the phone eagerly and to your surprise he uttered out a, “Hey babe, are ya busy right now? Ya better not be- come to my room asap.”

Needless to say, you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat

Mammon’s pet names of choice include, but aren’t limited to, sugar, baby doll, dollface, doll, baby, babe, honey bun/honey bunny

He loves anything that will make you smile, though. It’s his favorite thing in the whole world.

During intimate times he mainly sticks to calling you baby and baby doll, expect him to desperately moan that into the crook of your neck as he begs you to continue

He blushes, stammers, tells you to stop, but then tells you to not stop when you call him pet names. He not-so-secretly loves it, and you know it.

You like to call him mammonie, monmon, baby/babe, handsome, and my prince. Just to mess with him and to see that cute flush of red on his gorgeous tan skin. It’s also undeniably cute and cheesy

During sex, he absolutely adores being called baby boy. It really gets him going. This boy is a sub

You were scribbling school notes in your notepad, studying for the upcoming exam when your D.D.D rang. You sighed, setting your pencil down and reaching for your D.D.D to see who was interrupting your study session.

It was Mammon.

Of course it was. You adored him, you really did, but his timing was pretty awful. You answered and put the phone up to your ear with your shoulder so you could continue copying down some notes that Satan so generously lent you.

“Yo, yo, yo! Babe, are ya busy? Ya better not be- come to my room asap!” He exclaimed happily.

The phone fell from your shoulder and onto your notepad. You had felt your heart skip a beat. He called you babe.

“U-uh...MC? MC??? That was an accident. I aint mean it. Just...come to my room. Hello? Human, are ya even there??” He stammered on nervously.

You scrambled to pick the phone up, responding in a teasing tone, “Mammon. Three things. 1: I heard that. 2: I’m studying. 3: I heard you call me that.”

You could hear him huff on the other end. He was seriously too cute, too easily flustered.

“Just drop it, wouldja? I aint mean it! Now get your ass over here- I dont care if you’re studying. No one makes The Great Mammon wait!!”

You could practically see him puff his chest out. You just wanted to engulf him in a hug and ruffle his snowy locks so badly.

With a grin, you taunted, “Okay, babe. I’ll be right over.”

You hung up just as he began to sputter and protest, checked yourself in the mirror, sprayed some perfume/cologne on, and began to make your way to Mammon’s room.

As you reached Mammon’s room, you thanked all your lucky stars that you didn’t run into any of the brothers. Without warning, you swung Mammon’s door open, and he jumped with a shriek.

“Jeez, ya scared the livin’ evil outta me, human!” he exclaimed, clutching his t-shirt near his heart. His cheeks were already tinted a lovely blushed hue against his beautifully tanned skin.

“Awww, sorry Monmon. Didn't mean to startle you,” you poked, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest, beginning to protest that you didn't, in fact, frighten him.

You quickly leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He froze, and you could practically hear his heart race. You pulled away, both hands coming up to the nape of his neck as he just stared at you, mouth slightly open, his face bright red.

“You worry too much, baby.” You teased him, a smile playing on your lips.

And then he leaned in to return your kiss, hands settling on your lower back gingerly

Needless to say, he began to “accidentally” continue to call you endless pet names. He really did love them and you

Leviathan:

Please, for the love of all things unholy, please let this shy boy call you silly pet names. He adores them, simply because it makes you giggle, and he loves knowing that he’s the one making you laugh

Levi appears as though he doesn’t feel shame, but we know he just hides it really well. However, he still rambles to anyone and everyone about Ruri-chan and anime, so he won’t mind you using pet names for eachother around other people

Because of his anxiety though, he probably won’t be too keen on that idea at first. Will his brothers laugh at him? Surely they’ll think he’s gross and creepy regarding his choice of pet names, right? Wrong. Ensure to him that he doesn’t have to do anything that he isn’t comfortable with, and if anyone judges them then they’re just normies. He’ll love you forever.

Levi’s most used pet names for you are sunshine, cutie, snookums, goofball, and player 2

Sunshine is his personal favorite because humans seem to associate happiness with the sun, and you’re his main source of happiness. So why wouldn’t he call you that?

He also refers to you as his player 2 a lot. You’re not only his lover, but his best friend. His partner in crime. His Henry.

Calling him pet names is undoubtedly one of your favorite things. He stutters, blushes such a deep shade of red, and tries to hide his face behind his hands. Please take ahold of wrists, move them from his face, take hold of his face, and place a kiss on his nose. You want Levi.exe to stop working? K.O’d? Do that.

Your favorite pet names for him are Leviachan, cutie, sweetie, handsome devil, baby boy, my sweet prince, etc. Anything that helps boost his confidence is a good pet name in your book.

During sex, Levi would hardly be able to form a coherent sentence, so I imagine your name would fall from his bitten lips like a mantra

If you’re into it, he would be down to call you master/mistress, 100%

Most of the time you call him baby boy and sweet boy and needy during sex. I HC that he’s very submissive and melts at your endearing yet dominating pet names for him.

We also know it’s canon that Levi has a degradation kink- so use it. Call him a whore, pervert, slut, needy bitch. He’ll let out the sweetest whines and whimpers.

“Levi, sweetie, I promise it’s okay. Nothing happened between Mammon and I. We just went shopping,” You gently explained to a very frazzled Levi.

He was sitting in his gaming chair, anime paused, arms crossed, avoiding your gaze, and pouting. A frown also adorned his troubled features.

He refused to answer you.

“Levi, please speak to me,” you tried again, reaching out to take ahold of his hand.

You offered your hand to him gingerly. He studied it for a moment, and then, with a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he complied and laced his fingers with yours. He heaved a sigh as you swiped your thumb against his hand soothingly.

“I know, MC. I trust you. It just makes my blood boil knowing you’re out with him instead of being with me....I don’t really blame you though, I guess. I’m a gross and yucky otaku. I wouldn’t want to hang out with me either,” he grumbled, his voice cracking near the end, along with your heart. You wished so badly he wouldn’t talk so down on himself all the time.

It was time to show Levi just how much he meant to you.

You surged forward to engulf your serpent-like boyfriend in a bone-crushing hug. He let out a squeak, his arms coming up in surprise.

“Leviachan, I wish you saw how much I love you. I love spending time with you. I love playing games with you. I love watching anime with you. I love listening to you rant and ramble about them. I love how passionate you are. You’re so cute when you get like that, yknow?” You murmured to him with as much love as you could muster.

Suddenly his arms were wrapped around you, hugging you tightly to him. He planted a kiss on the top of your head before nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“You normie,” he whispered, “you’re really too much. I think you’re the only person who can find my ranting endearing.”

You pulled away with a pretend frown on your face, lacing your fingers with his once more.

“Normie? Again? Really Leviachan? In what way am I a normie?” You prodded, grinning at him.

He blushed, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I suppose you’re not really that much of a normie. You do nerd out with me, to be fair...” He grinned back at you- a genuine grin, at that. It warmed your heart.

Before you could say anything else, Levi surged forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. It was gone as soon as it was there. You blinked, wide eyed at him. His face was ablaze- you didn’t think you had ever seen him so flushed. You didn’t even know he had the confidence in him to do that.

In a rare moment of softness, he whispered

“I love you, sunshine. I really do. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my player 2.”

Satan:

Satan is the absolute best in the business at hiding his true intentions; after all, all smiles are an act

Except... you actually stir up feelings of love within him, and it drives his curiosity through the roof

He appears to be very confident so his brothers opinions don’t really matter to him. He’s also awfully petty, so I imagine he moreso uses pet names for you around them to simply dangle in their faces that only he can do that

That doesn’t change the fact that every time you use a pet name for him, hes face flushes an adorable red before he sorts himself out

His favorite pet names for you are sweetheart, kitten, darling, little kitty, gorgeous, wildflower, and my sweet girl/sweet boy

We all know this man is into pet play, so his most used nicknames for you are kitten and little kitty. During and not during intimate times.

During sex, Satan calls you all sorts of endearing terms- he’s a master of dirty talking. It’s filthy yet simultaneously charming. Kitten, darling, and your name roll off of his tongue the most. If you’re into it, he will definitely degrade you, calling you a needy whore, filthy slut, cumslut, cumrag, fuck toy, you name it and he’ll use it. He’d most likely be opposed to calling you a bitch- it feels too hurtful for him.

You love to call him handsome, my bookworm, stud(teasingly), good looking, and babe/baby. Each and every one earns a chuckle and a momentary blush from him, so it’s definitely worth it.

Want his attention when he’s too busy reading? Call out his name a few times- he can hear you, but he chooses to ignore you. Bring out the pet names and he’ll be burying his blushing face into his book, completely flustered. He takes a moment to compose himself before tutting at you. You interrupted his very important reading- how naughty.

When Satan’s feeling dominant, he’s dominant. He demands that you call him Sir or Master during sex. He doesn’t mind being called Daddy, but it doesn’t get him going quite like the other two do. When he’s feeling more submissive, absolutely call him your handsome boy. Pet gets him riled up as well- use it from time to time.

You couldn’t believe just how beautiful the sight in front of you was. The stars in the Devildom seemed to burn brighter and more fiercely than the ones in the human world. You were almost entranced by them, not wanting to tear your eyes away from the gorgeous nighttime sky.

That is, until you felt the hand that was holding yours give a gentle squeeze. You quickly turned your head to make eye contact with his emerald gaze. The main emotion you could see in Satan’s eyes was adoration, and suddenly your heart was being squeezed as well as your hand.

Here you were, taking a late night stroll in the Devildom with Satan, the night sky painted with deep clouds and bright stars, and he was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He had taken you to what appeared to be a park. You walked along the path hand in hand as you took in every little detail. The deep greenish blue bushes were hiding little critters, the pond had a fountain that splashed around the deep blue water, there were bugs that looked and acted an awful lot like lightning bugs(Satan explained that they were practically the same except that these were called Hell Fire Bugs, were only found in the Devildom, and had little horns that adorned their head), there were giant flowers of golden and orange hues everywhere, and, to your delight, there was a little wooden bench sat right in the perfect spot.

“Satan, can we sit down?” You asked with a smile, motioning to the bench. “I love where it’s positioned; you can take in everything perfectly!” You peered up at him to see that a gentle smile was gracing his features.

“Of course we can sit down, darling. Are your legs feeling tired of walking as well?” He pondered. After all, he wasn’t completely sure what a human’s threshold for walking distance was.

“Mm, a little bit,” you admitted, absentmindedly rubbing your arm. You’d gotten so caught up in his presence and the sights around you that you’d only just now noticed the beginning of a burning sensation in your legs.

“That’s a shame. I guess I’ll have to carry you to the bench then, huh, kitten?” He said, flashing you a sly smile.

Protests left your mouth but to no avail. You were already thrown over his shoulder, his long fingers resting on your bum, giving a gentle pat. He was comfortably warm, and you were lying if you said you couldn’t stay in his strong arms forever.

You were giggling, squirming, demanding that he put you down that instant- but you both knew how much you loved it. His grip tightened on you as a warning.

“Kitty, if you keep squirming, I’ll have to punish you. It’s not nice to deny my kind gestures.” He teasingly warned, giving a harsher smack to your bum. And at that, you huffed, but calmed down.

He gently set you down on the bench, caressing your face before sitting down next to you, reaching out to grab ahold of your hand once again. You gladly took his hand in yours, sighing contentedly as he swiped his thumb soothingly against yours.

You leaned in closer to him, pressing against his side, and placed a gentle peck on his cheek. His skin was so soft, so warm. Welcoming. You couldn’t have felt more safe, more comfortable, more at home than you did in this moment. He let out a light chuckle.

“Are you happy now?” He murmured, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side. You curled your arms around his arm closest to you, resting your head on his broad shoulder. You breathed in deeply, taking in his calming scent. He smelled like old books and tea. “I couldn’t be happier.” You whispered out. Your heart was so full, you could hardly take it.

“Good, I’m glad,” He warmly responded, and began to absentmindedly play with your hair as you both enjoyed the scenery in a comfortable silence.

“Hey, Satan?” You gingerly asked after a few minutes. He gave a hum in response.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You admitted, feeling your face heat up.

He craned his neck to peer down at you, you pulling away gently to look at him.

“You truly are something else. You want to stay with me, a demon, forever? Are you sure about that?” He inquired, secretly hoping you wouldn’t backtrack. And you didn’t.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life. I love you.” You whispered back.

His only response were gentle hands coming up to cup your face, his lips softly melting against yours.

Asmodeus:

Naturally, as the Avatar of Lust, pet names are his forte. He calls you pet names about as often as he tries to cop a feel- so, very often

He loves using them in front of anyone and everyone, shame just isn’t a word in his vocabulary. He finds cute nicknames incredibly endearing and genuinely wonders why everyone doesn’t feel the same way about them.

He high-key expects you to use pet names for him as well. Let EVERYONE know he’s your beautiful boy, dammit. Its obvious but it makes him feel happy, so you’re more than willing to comply.

His personal favorite pet names for you include, but aren’t limited to, cherub, dear, little darling, angel face, doll face, honey/hun, bunbun, love bug, lover, and mi amor.

He simply loves to do anything and everything you want him to do to please you, but he expects the same energy in return.

So, during intimate times, if you want him to degrade you he will. It just isn’t his favorite thing to do- he’d rather worship you and make you feel on top of the world with honey dripping words. Therefore, during sex, he prefers to call you darling, baby, baby girl/baby boy, princess/my prince, beautiful, etc. If you want him to call you mommy/daddy, master/mistress, or sir/madam, he absolutely will. Anything to please you.

Your pet names of choice for him include asmobaby, asmo, lover boy, cutie, beau, charmer, eye candy, heart breaker, heart throb, etc.

“How’s my favorite heart breaker doing?” “Feeling a little frisky, are we, lover boy?” “You see that absolute eye candy over there? That’s my boyfriend”

During sex, you call Asmo anything and everything you want. He’s down to try and do anything, so he’s all yours. He’ll do the same for you. However, he does love being praised- so please use praising pet names for him like gorgeous, handsome, sexy, etc

The most passionate and intense lover you will ever have, and his endless pet names are only the tip *wink wink* of the iceberg.

For once in the Devildom, you were freezing. Your nose was numb, red, just an icicle, really.

Asmo had dressed you up with a pompom hat, fluffy earmuffs, and a giant puffy coat with gloves to match in attempts to keep you warm in the Devildom’s famous ice rink. Of course, his entire outfit matched yours with a lovely complimentary color. He figured it was enough for him, so surely his little cherub was warm and snug, right? Wrong. Somewhat wrong, anyway. You were still cold and made a point to complain about it to Asmo.

“Dear, I promise I will warm you up as soon as we leave, just please do this for me?” He begged, holding your gloved hands in his own. His pinkish-yellow hued eyes stared into your own hopefully, and you knew you could never turn down those puppy eyes of his.

He cheered excitedly when you agreed and took you by the hand over to the rink. He turned around to face you, an expectant expression on his face. He took your hand and placed his lips on the backside, winking up at you, before murmuring, “Watch and learn mi amor!”

With wide eyes you watched as Asmo skated off, moving with incredible balance and grace. Every move was intentional; he looked stunning in this state. Here he was, skating a lutz, an axel, a salchow, everything. He was professional level talented, and he never told you! And, oh, yes, you. You could skate, but not well.

“Asmobaby, I didn’t know you were so talented at this!” You exclaimed as he approached you, an accomplished smile adorning his features. You skated over to him, his hand reaching out to grab yours as you skated together side by side.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I love how graceful it looks,” he responded, as you noticed how the tip of his nose was beginning to turn red. His breathing was still a little irregular, his breath coming out in puffs, the cold making the cloud of breath visible. He was so beautiful.

“Darling, if you keep staring at me like that, I won’t be able to control myself,” he teased, squeezing your hand.

You quickly averted your eyes, your face flushing at being caught.

“Oh, don't be embarrassed, MC! There’s nothing wrong with admiring beauty! I do it with you all the time, you know.” He winked, and you had to slap away a wandering hand, leaving a very pouty Asmo.

You attempted to get closer to give him a kiss to make up for it, but you lost your balance, falling right onto your bum. Asmo gasped, made sure you were okay, and then giggled at you.

“Asmo!! I just fell!! On ice!! And you’re laughing!” you feigned offense, resting your hand over your chest. “And I was going to give you a kiss, too!”

Asmo leaned down to help you up, murmuring, “You can’t help but fall for my charming self, hm, love bug?”, and pressed a loving kiss to your chilly lips. His nose bumped against yours, somehow still warm to the touch. You were so enraptured by his lips that you hadn’t even realized he’d gotten you back on your feet.

“How about we...continue this later?” Asmo whispered as you pulled away.

“Oh, you better. You promised to warm me up, lover boy” You huffed, beginning to skate off with him again. “Don’t have to ask me twice, doll. I’ll show you my love allllll night. Now, watch this next trick- it’s absolutely stunning!”

Beelzebub:

This wholesome boy honestly doesn’t understand pet names at first

“Why would I call you a baby, MC, you’re clearly a grown human??”

Even after you explain it to him, he still doesn’t really get it, but it makes you happy, and he’ll do anything to make you happy

When you tell him that he doesn’t have to call you baby/babygirl/babyboy, that he can use almost anything, he lights up.

“My cheesebur-” “No, Beel, anything but that”

Once he somewhat gets the gist of petnames, his preferred ones for you are love muffin, pumpkin, cookie, honey, sweetheart, gum drop, and cupcake

Occasionally calls you his cheeseburger just to enjoy your reaction

Please, please, please, don’t be mean about it. this baby's feelings are hurt so easily and he always means well

You favorite pet names for him are Beel, beelzeburger, big guy/big boy, bunny,/honey bun, bonbon, sweet boy, honeybee, Cookie Monster, and handsome

Each time you call him something other than his name, he blushes profusely, his lips upturned in a happy smile

Adores everything you call him, even if its incredibly cheesy because he loves cheese you chose those pet names for him specifically, and he feels honored

During sex, he’s so focused on how good it feels and trying to not hurt you that anything that comes to mind rolls off of his tongue when he speaks, which isn’t often

mainly calls you by your name, but he loves to use babygirl/babyboy if you like it

he also prefers for you to call out his name, as other names don’t really do much for him. if you’re into it, though, I'm sure he won't mind if you call him daddy. will be incredibly confused the first time you gasp it out though

“Huh? Is your father here? Or did you call me that? You’re not my child, though...?”

The music was loud- blaring, actually, and your head was beginning to ache.

Lord Diavolo was holding a party at his castle, with almost every one of his friends invited- it was a huge party. Everyone was sat down at tables or were out on the dance floor. Lucifer was chatting it up with Barbatos, Simeon, Luke(who was just following Simeon around), and Lord Diavolo, Satan was sipping some demonus while flipping through the pages of a book, absentmindedly chatting with Solomon, Mammon and Asmo were participating in some dance competition, Levi was playing his switch with his headphones on, and Belphie was napping on Beel’s shoulder.

You were sitting at the table with Satan and Solomon, feeling particularly uninterested in their talk of spells and magic. The music was nice, and Mammon and Asmo looked like they were having fun, but you didn’t have the energy to tear it up on the dance floor. You heaved a sigh, feeling insufferably bored.

And that’s when your eyes landed on Beel. Belphie had his cow print pillow resting in the crook of Beel’s neck, snuggling himself into Beel. He was zonked. And poor Beel was munching on whatever food he had left on his plate, looking just as bored as you- at this rate, he wouldn’t have any food left, and soon.

Making your mind up, you got up from the table and made your way over to Beel. As you got closer, Beel lifted his head at your approaching footsteps and smiled when he saw that it was you- you swore it made your heart beat faster.

“Gum drop! I was wondering when you would come over.” He smiled, motioning for you to take the seat next to him. Belphie continued to snooze on.

“Actually, Beel, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the kitchen with me? Your supply on food is low, cookie monster ..” You murmured in his ear. He nodded, and went to wake up Belphie. Talking to him didn’t work, shaking didn’t work, nothing did. Beel carefully moved Belphie’s pillow on the table, his head now resting on Beel’s shoulder, and then gently moved Belphie’s head to rest on his pillow. He continued his little cat nap, completely unbothered.

Beel stood up, took your hand in his, and led you to kitchen.

You lifted yourself up on the counter to sit, watching as Beel opened every cabinet and drawer, rummaging for something else to devour. He finally made his way to the fridge and freezer, and let out a delighted laugh when he discovered a pint of hellish nightshade ice cream.

“Wanna share?” He asked, smiling and showing you the ice cream container.

“Uh, Beel, can humans even eat nightshade? Won’t it kill me?” You inquired, fairly sure that nightshade would kill you dead.

“Oh, no, it won’t. Barbatos said there’s different kinds of nightshade that won’t hurt humans and Lord Diavolo made sure that everything here is human-proof!” He happily exclaimed, already grabbing two spoons.

If it did kill you, well, that was Lucifer’s problem because you were gonna enjoy some ice cream with your boyfriend.

Beel began to happily eat the sweet treat, you taking bites whenever you could get your spoon in. He noticed you were having some troubles and shyly apologized, retreating his spoon so you could get a good bite.

And oh, you did. It was a heaping spoonful, resulting in ice cream getting on the corners of your mouth. You didn’t know why Beel was suddenly staring ravenously at you instead of the ice cream.

“You have ice cream on your mouth,” he murmured, leaning in closer to you, his face inches away from yours. Your breath sped up.

“Wanna help me clean it off?” Was all you needed to ask before his mouth was on yours, delicately licking off the ice cream. His hands rested gently on your waist, your own hands resting on his broad shoulders. He pulled back gently, a buzzing sound emanating from him.

“I always love your taste,” he exclaimed happily, blush spreading across his cheeks.

You leaned back in for another syrupy sweet kiss, Beel all too happy to oblige.

Belphegor:

ah, our favorite eboy

he thinks pet names are cute and he really enjoys them, but he’ll never outwardly say that. he might mention it to you when you’re half asleep, though

gets all blushy blushy uwu when you use them around other people, but he doesn't mind. don't expect him to use them on you around other people, though- that's mostly for when you're alone

when he's really happy to see you or really sleepy he’ll use pet names for you regardless of who is around

he finds it to be very intimate so he likes keeping it to yourselves

his favorite pet names for you are dork, cuddle bug, star, teddy bear, and pillow pet

he loves stars and stargazing, and especially loves stargazing with you so he figured why not combine two things he loves and call you his star

he also loves to snuggle you, so you're practically his personal teddy bear- and he wouldnt have it any other way

you're favorite pet names for him are cowboy, Little Dipper, cuddle monster, snuggle bug, belpharoo, belphie/belpie, and sleepy prince

during sex, belphie likes to call you his cowgirl when he's feeling more dom. he seems like a bratty power bottom/sub, so he’ll call you master/mistress, mommy/daddy if you like that, but he’ll give you shit for it. other than that, your name falls from his lips in breathy moans and whines

you tend to call him baby boy, sweet prince, brat, good/bad boy, naughty boy during sex. he loves being called a bad/naughty boy, PLEASE do it, it really gets him going

You woke with a start, eyes blinking a few times as you looked around you. You had fallen asleep in the Planetarium. stargazing with Belphie. Oh yeah, Belphie. You turned your head to see he was still fast asleep, holding onto your arm with a death grip. You knew waking him would be fun.

“Belphie? Bellphiiieeeee...” You whispered in his ear, which earned you a little bit of stirring from him.

“Belpharooooo, it’s wakey time,” You said a bit more loudly, beginning to rub his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open sleepily, his amethyst gaze meeting yours warmly. He stretched his arms out with an adorably soft yawn, his shirt riding up to expose his soft yet toned abdomen. He gave you a sleepy smile.

“I love waking up to the sight and sound of you, teddy bear” he murmured out, clinging onto you once again, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Your own arm was wrapped around him, the other coming up to lazily play with his hair. He let out an almost purring sound, attempting to get as close to you as possible.

“Uh uh, Belphie, we can’t go back to sleep yet. We’re still in the Planetarium- let’s go to bed, okay my sleepy prince?” You cooed, patting his back to get him to sit up.

With a huff, he sat up, but demanded you pull him up by his arms, giving you the sweetest smile in return. He complained the entire way to his and Beel’s room, his hand gripping yours loosely as you lead him forward.

Beel wasn’t there when you arrived which disappointed you both a bit, but you figured he’d be back soon and with some snacks, too, so that was a plus.

Immediately Belphie flopped onto his bed, hardly giving you enough time to crawl into bed beside him before he cocooned himself with blankets. He turned to face you, eyes glazed over, and yawned once more. You yawned in return, the both of you giggling. His amethyst eyes never left you, even when his hair fell into his face. You gently brushed the strands of navy blue hair out of his eyes, giving him a soft smile as his own hand came up to keep your hand pressed against his face. He nuzzled into your hand, sighing happily, before you wrapped your arms around him loosely.

“Goodnight, teddy bear” he murmured as you both drifted off to sleep once more.

A few hours had passed when you woke again , only to find that Belphie had not only pushed you to the edge of the bed, but had also stolen all of the covers and blankets. You were chilly without either of those.

You shook him, earning a groan from the sleepy demon.

“Belphie I love you but I swear I will execute you if you don’t give some blankets back” you lightheartedly threatened, opting to lay your body across his.

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” he murmured, nuzzling further into his pillows.

“Oh no, you don’t. I literally have no covers! You have all of them! I’m freezing!” you exclaimed desperately.

He poked his head out of his cocoon, a mischievous glint in those amethyst eyes, his hair sticking up in random spots.

“If you want a blanket so bad, then come get one from me.” He dared you, a smile playing on his sleepy features.

You immediately began your assault by tickling his sides, which resulted in him laughing, gasping, and trying to swat you away. You began giggling with him, not stopping your violent attack on the poor helpless demon. Your torture went on for a few minutes before he finally gave in.

“Okay, okay! I give in! You can have all the blankies you want, I swear!” he puffed out heavily, tears forming in his eyes from being tickled and laughing so much.

You smiled triumphantly as he let you into his little blanket cocoon, immediately becoming engulfed by warmth and his scent. You were waiting for both of your breaths to even out as you heard a low voice say,

“Hey, I know you guys love each other and all but it’s 4am and I’m kinda trying to sleep”

You looked at Belphie, holding back a giggle as he gave an apology to poor Beel.

You snuggled up to Belphie once again, beginning to feel sleep take over your body for the 3rd time that day. You fell asleep before Belphie, so you never felt the soft kiss he planted on your forehead and the sweetest “I love you so much” he whispered in your ear.

I hope you enjoyed this! I loved finally writing for all of the brothers- It was so much fun figuring out how to incorporate their personality into my own writing style. Let me know if you’d like me to do a version of this with the undateables! As always, all feedback is appreciated. <3

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