#i hope this makes sense im this close to passing out

[actual-changeling]

my brain's kinda dead after therapy today but has anyone ever thought about when aziraphale started writing diaries?

in 1827 he says he is on volume 603. now, we COULD simply assume that he uses one diary per year, which would put our starting date in 1224. however, there's two things that bother me about that line of thinking. it is a very late time to start writing diaries considering that paper and writing have been around almost as long as he has plus over six hundred volumes - that's some fucking dedication right there. he LOVES books and thus probably loves preserving stories in general, so the second he heard of diaries being thing he started keeping one. or maybe he even invented them.

on top of that, crowley and aziraphale do not perceive time like we do, and after almost six thousand years memorable events have probably become a bit rarer.

which leads us back to the question of when he started documenting those events.

we have to entirely guesstimate this but let's say the average diary he uses has 200 pages (notebooks have a big variety of page numbers and this one's easy to work with) and he writes a minimum of one entry a month across 4 single pages. we see him NOT use the backside of a page and his handwriting is quite large.

but he probably doesn't always have an entire story to tell and we do have one other entry that really isn't very long (which can be found in the bonus section of episode 3).

so if we go with 4 pages per entry on average we'd have 50 entries per diary. divided by 12 makes around 4 years contained within one volume.

4 x 603 = 2412

1827 - 2412 = - 585

585 AD is pretty damn early and doesn't really ring a bell and that's when we use some very generous numbers and assume he writes a lot.

but.

what happens when we loosen up a little?

let's say he doesn't write 12 entries per year and that the average is less than 4 pages of writing - let's give him some more time to fill 603 volumes which. again. is quite a fucking lot and there is the very real question of where he keeps them and if crowley has seen them.

anyway. more time. paper around 3000 BC but also heaven and hell don't stick to human developments and crowley had paper in heaven.

have you guessed where i'm going with this yet?

tell me beloved tumblr bestie, do you remember the first time we get to see writing on paper that isn't celestial sketches on celestial paper?

if your answer is "job in 2500" then congrats, you won!

the conclusion to this rambling is that there's a good chance aziraphale started keeping a diary after the entire job incident. when he was exposed to earthly pleasure. when he had to start keeping track of what happened and what crowley did vs. what he SAID he did. when having a record like the god/satan contract became important.

however i want you to consider the funniest possible answer to the question "why did aziraphale start writing diaries" - he and crowley fucked and had incredibly mind blowing sex in that cellar and when aziraphale realised he had no one to talk to about it he sat down and invented diaries.

[ironmanstan]

I am the king of writing papers twice as long as they should be

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[lcvemiyuki]

"in proximity" | hq, ushijima

content: ushijima asking for help on English is one thing--him sitting just inches away from you is another

tags+warnings: fluff, ushijimaxfem!reader, thirdyear!ushijima, tendou+semi appearance, not proofread

character(s): ushijima

word count: 1.6k

a/n: im sorry in advance this was written on the bus LMAO

Brown shoes pattered as the students of Shiratorizawa started to cluster in the slightly filled classroom. It was lunch break, and you decided to stay in with your feet bouncing slightly and earbuds in, the music blasting so loud it could be heard from the external world. It was so loud you didn’t pick up on the dress shoes cladding on the wooden floor. You were so focused on reading up the next lesson for English that you didn’t feel a tall, looming presence in front of the desk.

“[Y/N].”

A few more seconds passed until an unknown hand plucked your right bud out of your ear.

The muted classroom suddenly filled your hearing, and the chatter of classmates could be heard crystal clear. Your eyebrows furrowed at the action, and you trailed your eyes to follow up the cladded arm until you reached a calm, yet slightly tilted head.

Wakatoshi Ushijima.

Your mouth clamped shut with only a slight hum in response to the stunned and sudden intrusion of the ace on your academy’s precious volleyball team.

Your puzzled expression had you blinking your eyes more than usual, causing him to only slightly clear his throat.

“I know you may not know me, but you’re [Y/N], right?” His expression remained unchanged as if carved from stone. It almost felt like you were in deep trouble with how a million eyes darted right at the two of you.

After quickly glancing around the now hushed classroom, you peered back up at him and nodded, “Of course, I know who you are, Ushijima-san.”

The pressure of possibly being the next target of rumors in the upcoming week terrified you. It was astonishing at the rate and creativity these students could create over the slightest piece of information.

He only nodded in return and began to rummage through the black book bag slung across his body. It took him a moment to finally find what he was looking for, and he stretched out his unwavering hand to reveal another English textbook.

“I was hoping you could tutor me for the upcoming finals.”

“Huh?” You quickly zipped your lips shut as the thoughts in your head blurted out.

Okay, that really stumped you; your eyes scanned the area for some sort of snicker or nudge of the arms as a sign of a prank.

But that wasn’t part of his nature, was it—no, he meant business with how his sandy-brown eyes never left yours.

It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it either. His voice was crystal clear and projected enough for everyone to chime in. You would expect that from the volleyball captain, yet he still needed your help with English.

“What do you need help with?” you continued.

There was a short pause as he suddenly moved away from your gaze, his hand reaching out for a vacant chair and pulling it up next to you. The slightly grating sound of the chair legs scraping against the wooden floor paused any remaining conversation in the classroom, drawing all eyes to the two of you.

His sudden presence filled your senses in seconds as his side profile came into view. The scent of fresh laundry lingered in the air as he was near. You could see the fine details of his chiseled jawline, and the determined set of his brow. Up close, it was no surprise he looked even more handsome.

Suddenly, your palms felt a little sweaty, and the room got a little warmer.

His intense focus and proximity made it hard to breathe steadily. His huge frame caused him to lean back on the small wooden chair, making it creak slightly under his weight. Meanwhile, your frame remained sort of uptight, your back straight as a rod, in fear you might accidentally touch him.

The sheer size of him was overwhelming; his broad shoulders seemed to take up more space than the chair allowed, and his legs spread slightly to accommodate his height. His arm brushed lightly against yours as he reached forward, causing a spark of electricity to shoot up your spine.

He placed the blue textbook next to yours, his large, calloused hands moving with surprising gentleness. Flipping to a certain page, he revealed a passage that had been neatly bookmarked, as if he already knew exactly what he needed help with. The text was underlined and annotated in pencil, showing his efforts to understand it on his own.

His voice, low and steady, broke the silence. "I figured you would be the best to tutor me."

He glanced over at your in-progress notes, his gaze unwavering and thoughtful. The closeness of his presence made the air around you feel charged, every small movement amplified your heightened awareness.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I... I’d be happy to help, Ushijima-san."

He nodded appreciatively, his stoic expression softening ever so slightly. “Thank you. I won’t take much of your time. It’s quite difficult to find time after school to study.”

As you started to explain the notes you had been working on, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze on you. It was intense like he was studying every word you said, every movement you made.

The sliding door abruptly slammed open, the force of it causing a few heads to turn in surprise. An overly excited redhead waltzes into the room, a completely annoyed companion trailing behind him.

“I thought I saw ya in the window while walking past, Ushi!” Tendou explained, his mouth wide open with a pearly-white smile, eyes gleaming with mischief. His voice echoed through the now silent classroom, making sure everyone knew of his arrival.

Ushijima barely reacted, his focus still on the textbook in front of him, but a faint sigh escaped his lips. You, on the other hand, jumped slightly in your seat, your eyes widening at the sudden intrusion.

Tendou stopped just inside the doorway, leaning against the frame with a casual, almost theatrical air. Semi stood beside him, his expression shifting into one of mild entertainment at the sight. “And look who you’re with! [Y/N], right?” Tendou’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he peered over in your direction, taking in the view of the English textbooks and your notes spread across the desk.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yes, that’s right.”

Tendou grinned wider, not moving from his spot. “Tutoring, huh? Just like we sai—uh, thought so!” He straightened up slightly, trying to awkwardly save himself from the slip-up. His eyes darted everywhere as he looked around, trying to gauge the room’s reaction.

The ash-blonde friend next to him raised an eyebrow in amusement, then let out a small scoff, clearly entertained by Tendou's ridiculous attempt to cover up his mistake.

Ushijima glanced at his teammates, his expression unchanging as he blinked up at the two.

“Yes, that’s right.” he parrots you as he responds to Tendou.

Tendou chuckled, his voice carrying easily across the classroom. “Well, we wouldn’t want our star player struggling with finals, would we?” He shot you a teasing grin before wiggling his eyebrows.

Tendou clapped his hands together, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room. “Alright! Let’s go and nourish our starving bellies, Semi-pooh,” he cooed, waving a hand towards the sliding door.

Semi’s eye twitched as he muttered a curse word under his breath. “Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, his annoyance clear, but he still followed Tendou out of the classroom.

As they left, Tendou continued to chatter animatedly, his voice fading as they walked down the hallway. Semi’s occasional responses, a mix of chuckles and sighs, echoed faintly back into the room.

You were left there dumbfounded in your chair as you couldn’t help but glance back at Ushijima. He, on the other hand, resumed his notes like nothing had happened.

‘Huh, that was weird.’

You decided not to think anything of it.

𓇢𓆸 Later that day

“I told you to sit across from her, not next to her!” Tendou’s voice echoed out from the locker room, a blend of exasperation and amusement in his tone.

Ushijima glanced up from his phone, intrigued. Tendou’s rants were a familiar occurrence, but this time, there was a sharpness to his words that captured Ushijima’s attention.

“You were practically crowding her! I could feel the awkward tension all the way from the doorway!” Tendou continued, his arms waving dramatically as he paced back and forth. His eyes were wide with mock horror, clearly relishing the chance to tease his stoic friend.

“I thought it would be more efficient,” Ushijima said, his brow knitting slightly.

Tendou snorted, laughter reverberating in the confined space. “Efficient, huh? Sure, let’s go with that.” He gave Ushijima a knowing look, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. “Come on, Ushi, we both know why you really wanted to sit next to her.”

Ushijima’s expression remained impassive. “I respect her intelligence.”

Tendou’s grin broadened, his enjoyment evident. “Mhm? And you wanted to be close to her too~”

Ushijima’s gaze dropped back to his phone, his fingers idly tapping the screen as he sat on the dark wooden bench, his posture relaxed.

“That’s why I suggested you ask her for help,” Tendou said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned against the lockers. “You needed an excuse to spend time with her.”

The room was filled with the familiar silence Tendou was accustomed to.

He clapped Ushijima on the shoulder, his cue that he was taking off. “You’ll get the hang of it. Just remember to give the lady a little space next time.”

Ushijima remained seated on the bench, fingers navigating to his contact list. At least he got one thing right: asking for your number.

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[lovelyjj]

hiii could you do the reader and jj diving for the necklace, getting attacked by those guys, and jj goes to get the reader with the group checking up on them and they end up getting the bends, going to the hospital to be put into that chamber and it’s just really cute and soft <3

Hyperbaric Chamber

jj maybank x reader

OBX season 4 SPOILERS

a/n: I was hoping someone would request this! I didn’t know if you wanted smut or not so I didn’t include it but let me know if anyone wants smut in the hyperbaric chamber!

“Look, it’s too dangerous for you to dive alone Im going with you,” you stated.

“You sure?” JJ questioned.

“Yeah I’m sure. It’s not safe. You need a buddy.”

“It’s 80 feet down in the dark.”

“I already decided so,” you replied.

“Okay, that’s that.” JJ spoke.

You and JJ were going to receive an amulet that had been said to break the curse of the Genrettes that’s haunted their family for over 300 years. You were a little nervous but you knew you had JJ with you. You and JJ, plus Pope and John B take the boat out to where Blackbeard’s ship was wrecked.

“Don’t forget your safety stop, all right? Fifteen feet for three minutes. Hear that, JJ? Fifteen feet, three minutes,” Pope reminded you both.

“Copy that.”

“Or what?” you ask.

“The bends, remember? Nitrogen in the blood, excruciating pain, death, et cetera, et cetera.” Pope recites.

JJ looks at you and you can tell he will never forgive himself if something happened to you. “Hey you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Okay.”

“Diver down.”

“Diver down.”

You and JJ put on your gear and fall back into the water. You both turn on your flashlights and swim down into the water. There’s a lot of fish but you finally reach the ship. JJ pushed open a window and you both go through it.

JJ finds the necklace and uses his knife to break it off the wall. Out of nowhere someone attacks you and takes your breathing tube out of your mouth. JJ takes his speargun and thrusts it at the guy, he manages to shank him in the arm.

JJ starts to fight with the guy and the guy ends up locking JJ out. JJ calls out to you, his voice desperate and he bangs on the door. The guy grabs you by the leg and cuts off your tank leaving you with no air. JJ screams for you and you scream for him.

JJ managed to break a hole in the door and he put his arm through and unlocked it. He then urgently gave you his mouth piece to give you some air. He looked down at his monitor and saw that there was only 17 seconds left.

“We gotta go now.” JJ urged.

You finally reached the surface and you both gasped for air.

“You okay?” JJ asked.

“Yeah. That was so close.”

“I know.”

“Who the hell was that down there?” JJ questioned.

“Where’s John B?”

The two of you start yelling for Pope and John B. They hear you and you swim over to them. Pope gets the ladder.

“Y/N, hand me your stuff,” Pope offers.

You let out a groan.

“Wait. Where’s your BCP?” Pope asks.

“It’s gone.”

“What? What do you mean it’s gone?”

“I mean, it’s gone.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“There was a guy that tried to kill us.” JJ breathed.

“We saw a boat out here too. They were armed. We need to get out of here now,” Pope said urgently.

“No, you don’t understand. There’s a guy down there-“ JJ was cut off.

“There’s a boat. We just saw it pass,” Pope repeats.

John B starts to move the boat and you all sail out of there. Once you all get back to the château John B speaks, “Alright what the hell happened?”

“Someone tried to kill us,” you responded.

“What? Why would someone try to kill you? That doesn’t make sense,” Pope was confused.

“Obviously, they were going after the same thing we were, right?” John B stated.

“My stomach hurts,” you announced.

“Hey, man, did you take your safety stop?” Pope inspects JJ’s eye.

“I’m gonna say it one more time. Someone was trying to kill us. We did not make the safety stop,“ JJ replied.

“They have the bends. We need to get them to the hospital. Now.” Pope says worried.

Everyone hopped in the twinkie and John B drove as fast as he could. You and JJ were moaning and groaning in pain. Sarah told you to take deep breaths.

“Y’all are not going to believe this,” JJ says as he hands the amulet to Sarah.

“You found it?”

“Holy shit.”

After what felt like forever you finally make it to the hospital. Your friends held you up as you walked in. Pope explained that you went diving and you need help.

“Their vitals and mental status is stable, and the pain scale is moving in the right direction, but they still need time in the hyperbaric chamber. They just bought themselves 12 hours in the tank,” the nurse said to John B.

The two of you were in a lot of pain and you were panting as you laid down in the chamber.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm.”

“You almost died. I should’ve never let you go down there,” JJ says with regret.

“Then who would’ve saved your life?” You reasoned.

“I saved you too.”

“Ya know we’re in here for 12 hours,” you began.

“Yeah but there’s no one else I’d rather be in here with,” JJ shared.

“You’re sweet.”

“You’re my whole world you know that? I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.”

“I’m here J, right here,” You take his hand and hold it as you lay down.

JJ looks at you and then looks at your lips. You scoot closer to him and lean in. JJ cups your face with one hand and places his lips on yours. The kiss was needy but gentle. JJ was relieved to be kissing you. Your lips were crushing together.

You felt warm all over and your stomach was tingling. JJ’s heart was palpitating. JJ’s tongue explored your mouth. You lapped up his mouth. After making out, you took a breath and JJ brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“My beautiful girl,” JJ whispered as he cradled your face.

“I love you so fucking much,” JJ confessed.

“I love you too.”

“I’m gonna marry you some day. We’re gonna live on the beach and have a bunch of kids. It’s gonna be perfect,” JJ talked to you about your future.

“Sounds like a dream,” you stated.

“It will be. So do you want a small wedding or a big wedding?” JJ asked.

“Hmm maybe something small and intimate. Like just the pogues and family,” you suggested.

“Yeah I like that idea. Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”

“What about Greece or Italy or Fiji?” You thought out loud.

“Any of those would work for me, as long as i’m with you,” JJ replied.

You rested your forehead on JJ’s forehead and smiled. You spent the rest of your time in the chamber cuddling and talking. It was an experience. You turned out just fine and you had JJ so that was nice.

[jammiesjars]

MDNI

Warnings: Accusation of Infedelity, heavily unedited writing (wrote this in a power outage in my notes app xx), fingering, eating pussy, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint REALLY hard.

One message is all it took for you to spiral.

Outrage was an understatement. A month, a single month, into Price’s deployment you had recieved a message from an unknown number. They insisted of Price having an affair with his so-called ‘receptionist.’ Being his wife, you didnt believe it. You and John had been married for years now. He wasnt that kind of man! (You hoped.)

Weeks passed and wheels start turning. Seeds of doubt had started digging into you. The late nights he had stayed at base before his deployment, only sending as much as a quick text of ‘Be home late. Dont wait up.’ Or the necessary secrecy between what happens at his job or deployment were starting to plant ideas in your head you wouldnt have ever had if not for that message. Youre being worn down, and its killing you. Its not like you could ask him; being thousands of kilometres away without any time to do as much as glance at his phone.

So the emotional resentment grew. You find yourself wondering how he could do this to you, crying in your empty home that housed the both of you not long ago. Before you even come to terms with it, Youve packed your bags and lawyered up, letting your resentment fester for far to long without any outside input.

On the third month of Prices deployment, you drive yourself up to base with one intention; leave the divorce papers on his desk to find when he comes back and to leave without confrontation.

Security on base knows you as ‘Price’s missus’ by now, offering a small wave and a smile as you walk by and into your husbands office. You put the papers on his desk, that frustration and hurt bubbling up all over again. He has your wedding photo framed on his desk and it only hurts more. What did you do to deserve this?

You turn to go, heading back towards his door when you hear muffled laughter and the sounds of gear being unzipped and dumped from down the hallway. Theyre back. You pick up the pace, praying you can slip out before he gets close enough to notice. You reach for the door handle, but the door opens before you can even grasp it.

Shit.

And there he is, your eyes drinking in the sight of the awfully more rugged version of your husband; beard outgrown and messy with tired eyes that light up at the sight of you.

That light dies as soon as sees just how mad you look.

“So youre telling me, one message is all it took to lose all fucking faith?” Price practically growls, fingers rubbing at his temples. Hes sat in his chair with you on the other side of his desk, just as furious. “Everything makes sense! The staying late at base, the short messages and lack of updates when your deployed!” You hiss, frustration bubbling over making anything small seem huge.

Price takes a deep breath, a futile attempt to calm his temper. “The shit I deal with doesnt sleep. Theres reasons i stay back that you will never know, love. The law itself, wont let me tell you. Same goes for messages. Im sorry i dont have the time to let you know im okay when im deployed, god knows i wish I did.” He scowls, his gaze so heated and intense that you almost look away despite your own fury.

“And what about this receptionist huh?”

Your tone has changed, soft and shaky. vunerable.

Price’s expression softens, but he doesnt say a word, simply rounding his desk to pluck you out of your own chair and putting you down in his office chair. He sinks to his knees in front of you, hands rested on your thighs. Blue eyes peer up at you, sickeningly sincere. “Love, I dont interact with her unless necessary. This isnt some romance movie bullshit.” Your heart is working overtime, lips parted as guilt bubbles. “You- you understand where my doubt is coming from, though…right? Everything lined up perfectly, and-“

Price simply tuts. “We’ve talked about that pretty little head of yours overthinking too much, havent we?” You freeze, throat drying. You nod. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes-“ you croak. “We have.”

Price grunts in approval, his hands now running up and down your thighs.

“Have you been feeling neglected, hm? Is that it? My sweet wife needs some attention?” Price rumbles, his large, calloused hands that have been marked by countless battles now playing with the hem of your skirt.

“You’ve got my attention now, luvie. No need to play these stupid games with me.”

Your mind is already growing hazy; your husbands words making you almost want to forget about this whole incident. A finger hooks onto the waistband of your panties, bringing you back to the moment.

“Stupid games? John i was prepared to divorce you-“ he shushes you, dragging your underwear down your thighs, then your calves and over your shoes before slipping them into his pocket. A cheeky smile graces his face. stupid muttonchops.

“Must’ve left you alone for far too long then, if you were willing to take it this far.”

He slings your legs over his impossibly large shoulders, making you squeak as your pulled forward on the chair.

“Wouldve come home and fucked those stupid thoughts straight out of your head if i had known you were having doubts about my loyalty, sweetheart.”

He presses a messy kiss to your clit, making you gasp. He grumbles something incoherent (“Me? Cheat? Silly girl.”), before licking a long stripe up your neglected cunt, causing your hips to buck. The taste of you after going months without has price groaning into your heat. He eats like a man starved, a mix of desire to prove his loyalty and that he finally gets to taste his wife after being away for so long.

Hes fuming, really. Toward you? No.

Towards whatever stupid bastard sent you that message. He’s glad you didnt notice him slip your phone in his pocket, because he knew you’d be against him hunting the fucker down. You just need a distraction to keep that pretty little head thinking too hard. And he’ll give you just that.

“Oh, my poor sweet wife…” He grunts, before sucking on your clit with a renewed fevor. He pulls off with a lewd pop, two thick fingers replacing his previous ministrations. You’re squirming in his office chair, mind hazy and hips bucking.

“Thinkin’ I was out here cheating on ya’… you know better, love.” He tuts.

His fingers curl so nicely into that spongey spot that makes you see stars. “M sorry-“ you’d slur, “I didnt believe it when I first saw the message I promise-“ you gasp as price presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing in small tight circles.

“Lovie, you stormed in here with divorce papers. Dont tell me you didn’t believe it.”

Your head tilts back as you pant, small gasps slipping past your lips.

“There we go.” Price coaxes, his fingers picking up their pace.

“Wouldnt even cross my mind to look at another woman when my gorgeous girl looks like that as I stuff her cunt full of my fingers.” He coos, watching your face intently as your release crashes down; intense enough to make you writhe and moan.

Price pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean before getting up off his knees. Your throat runs dry, bracing for whats to come even as you grapple your bearings. You’re mentally preparing for Price to be dissapointed, upset with you, maybe even mad.

He analyzes your expression, leaning back against his desk. His eyes scrape over your small form sat in his chair.

“Im not upset, love. That pretty little head of yours had months to overthink that message without a voice of reason.”

Price tilts your chin up.

“Lets just not have to do this again, hm? Then i’ll be mad.”

Its sounds like a threat, but it isnt. Price knows he’ll always be there to talk his beloved wife down from the edge.

[heartysworld]

Love, Lando, Milo // LN4

Lando Norris x Female Reader

Where Milo turns out to be more supportive than his dad

W. C: 2k

A/N: Milo has become a constant in my Lando fics, but since I don't see anyone complaining, I will keep on including him

MASTERLIST

The night was still. The kind of stillness that should be soothing, but instead, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back scream in protest. It was nearly impossible. Every time you thought you had it, your bladder demanded attention or a new wave of nausea rolled through you.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Lando more than you already had. His breathing was steady and deep beside you, the sound normally a source of comfort. But tonight, it only highlighted how restless you were. You turned again, hoping to find that elusive comfortable spot, but it was no use.

Around 3 AM, you got up for what felt like the fifth time. You shuffled to the bathroom, your swollen feet aching with every step. After relieving yourself, you wandered into the kitchen, craving something to eat. Anything to soothe your grumbling stomach and kicking baby. You grabbed a banana and slowly made your way back to bed, hoping this time you wouldn’t disturb Lando.

But as you slipped back under the covers, Lando stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Again?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with irritation.

“Yes, again,” you snapped back, unable to contain your frustration anymore. For the past few days, Lando's been complaining about your midnight adventures around the house as his sleep schedule struggled as much as you did if not even more. At first, you didn't say anything, apologizing and closing your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. However, as the days passed you felt like your were getting lonelier by the hour and evem more responsible for your fiancé's discontent with the situation in your own home, the sleepless night and constant tossing and turning.

“I’m pregnant, Lando. It’s not like I’m enjoying this.”

“Well, I’m not getting any sleep either,” he retorted. “I need to be in top shape during the season. This lack of sleep isn’t helping. No wonder I haven't been able to get anything done for the past week. It's useless.”

His words felt like a slap in the face. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You felt overwhelmed, emotional, and incredibly vulnerable.

“You think I don’t know that?” You choked out. “You think I want to be up all night? I can’t help it! Im supposed to enjoy my pregnancy and relax as much as possible before our baby arrives! In reality, I'm feeling guilty and responsible for both mine and your inability to rest well! ”

Milo, sensing the tension and seeing your tears, started barking at Lando, tugging on the leg of his sweatpants as if to say, “You upset mom! Fix it!”

“Great, now I’ve upset the dog too,” Lando muttered, but his anger was already dissipating, replaced by guilt. He looked at you, seeing the tears streaming down your face, and his heart broke a little.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You grabbed a blanket and headed to the spare bedroom, which was soon to be the baby's room. You moved as quickly as possible, your belly preventing you from moving with your usual pace. The room was quiet, and the rocking chair near one of the windows looked inviting. You opened the window next to you to let some fresh air inside the room. You settled into the fluffy cushions on the chair, pulling the blanket around you. Seconds later, Milo trotted into the room after you. He lifted himself onto his back legs, his front paws supporting his weight against the upholstery of the chair.

You lifted the little man onto your lap, smiling as he snuggled against your belly as if he knew you needed comfort.

''There hasn't been a day during which I've regretted your arrival into our lives, my tiny love." You said as you caressed the soft fur between his floppy ears. Milo's cold nose occasionally bumped against the palm of your hand as he sniffed around.

The tears flowed freely down the cold surface of your face, silent and hot in contrast. You stroked Milo's fur, the rhythmic motion helping to calm you down. The rocking chair creaked softly as you rocked back and forth. The movement seemed to help soothe your loud inner voice that kept producing negative thoughts one after another.

Some time passed, and you weren't sure how long. The door creaked open, and you saw Lando standing there, his expression mixed with regret and sadness.

“Baby, ” he whispered, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…I'm stressed. But that’s no excuse.”

You looked up at him, the tears still glistening in your eyes. “I’m trying, Lando. This isn’t easy for me either.”

He knelt beside the chair, taking your hand in his. “I know, love. I know. I’m an idiot. I should be more understanding. Please come back to bed. You need your sleep. We'll solve this in the morning, okay?”

You nodded, wiping your tears. “Just… don’t forget we’re in this together, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and gentle, his lips lingering on yours. “I promise. Come back to bed? We can figure this out together.”

You stood up slowly, Milo jumping down to the floor. Lando wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you back to your bedroom. The bed felt warm and inviting, and as you settled back in, Lando pulled you close as much as your protruding belly allowed him.

Milo jumped onto the bed, curling up at your feet where he usually spent his nights. Lando kissed your forehead, his hand resting on your growing belly.

“Goodnight, baby. I love you” he whispered.

“Goodnight,love you too.” You replied, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you as sleepiness began to take over your tired body.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You woke up feeling a bit more rested, your body still aching, but your heart felt a little lighter.

Lando was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling back. Milo stretched out beside you, having moved up on the bed during the night , now wagging his tail lazily.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern etched in his eyes.

“Tired, but better,” you admitted. “Thank you for coming to get me last night.”

“I’ll always come for you.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll get through this together.”

You spent the morning in bed, talking and laughing, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day. Milo provided endless entertainment, his antics making you both laugh.

That evening, after a long day of preparing the nursery and spending quality time together, you were exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft surface of the pillow. Lando stayed up a little longer as his mind kept wandering.

He looked over at you, your face serene in sleep, and his heart swelled with love. He gently placed his hand on your belly, feeling the slight movements of your growing baby.

“Hey, little one,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake you. “I know I need to be better for your mom. She’s doing so much already, and I need to support her more. She needs her sleep, and I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Milo tilted his head, watching Lando with curious eyes before settling back down. Lando chuckled softly, patting Milo’s head.

“We’re a team,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your mom, Milo, and me. We’re going to be a great team, and we’ll always be here for you. I promise to be better.”

He leaned in and kissed your belly, then your forehead, before settling down beside you. Milo snuggled up at your feet, the three of you finally finding a moment of peace.

As you slept, you felt Lando’s hand still resting on your belly, his presence a comforting anchor. The journey ahead might be filled with challenges, but with Lando’s love and support, you felt ready to take on the journey of being a parent.

MASTERLIST

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

[libingan]

—how the TF141 kiss you.

something short n sweet cuz im still in thr middle of prelims lmao lnao lmao im dying here please help

anyway, plz enjoy this cuz im abt to pass out right after i post this

i hope u guys miss my shit 😭

JOHN PRICE

price’s kisses are slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second with you. he takes his time, his hands always gentle as they cradle your face, the roughness of his palms contrasting with the tenderness of his touch. when his lips meet yours, there’s no rush, no sense of urgency. it’s a kiss that makes you feel safe, cherished, like he’s grounding himself in the connection between you. his lips are warm, moving slowly and firmly against yours, taking his time as though he’s pouring all his love into that moment. when he pulls away, it’s gradual, his thumb still stroking your cheek softly. he looks at you with those steady, reassuring eyes, as if to say everything is going to be alright. he doesn’t need to say anything—the kiss was his way of telling you everything he feels.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

gaz’s kisses are lighthearted and full of affection, like he’s always enjoying the moment with you. he has a way of teasing you just before he kisses you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in with a grin. but once his lips touch yours, all that playfulness melts into something softer, sweeter. he starts with a light brush of his lips, almost testing the waters, before pressing a little deeper. his kisses are never too rough, always gentle and warm, as though he’s silently telling you how much he adores you. his hands will find your waist or your back, pulling you just a little closer, but never overwhelming. he makes sure the kiss is always a mutual exchange of affection, full of warmth and joy. when he pulls away, there’s always a smile lingering on his lips, a playful twinkle in his eyes, and maybe even a soft laugh as if he’s savoring the way you look afterward, all flustered and smiling.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

soap’s kisses are passionate and full of life, the kind that leaves you breathless. he doesn’t hesitate when he wants to kiss you—his hands are always quick to find their way to your waist, pulling you close with a kind of urgency, like he’s been waiting all day just for this. his lips crash against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away, but even in that intensity, there’s still a layer of care in the way he holds you, making sure you’re comfortable. he kisses like he’s pouring every bit of emotion he has into that one act, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that leaves you wanting more. he likes to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to get the perfect angle, his hand cupping your face with a firm yet tender grip. when he pulls back, it’s only for a second before he dives back in, like he can’t get enough of you. after a few heated moments, he finally pulls away, breathless but grinning, his blue eyes sparkling with affection, his thumb brushing over your lips as he gazes at you with a look that says you’re everything to him.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

ghost’s kisses are rare, but when they happen, they’re full of quiet intensity. there’s a kind of vulnerability in the way he kisses you, like he’s letting down his guard just for you. he’s never rushed—his movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s taking his time to memorize the feel of your lips against his. his hands are gentle, one resting on your hip, the other brushing against the side of your neck. his lips are firm but not forceful, and when he kisses you, there’s a depth of emotion behind it, something he rarely shows in words. he kisses like he’s saying everything he can’t speak out loud, each movement of his lips deliberate, almost reverent. when he pulls back, it’s without fanfare—no lingering touches, no dramatic gestures. he simply pulls away slowly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if making sure you understand everything that kiss meant. he doesn’t speak much, but in the silence after the kiss, you know that he’s let you into a part of himself that no one else sees.

[soonyoungs]

what about maybe angst/hurt to comfort with mingyu, it could be a really stupid argument they’re both feeling stubborn over & then some cute fluff/smut at the end 🥹🙏🏻

ఇ mingyu and gn!reader

ఇ warnings: smut! alcohol consumption mentioned! not proof read! written while sleepy so i hope it makes sense!

ఇ wc: 1,597 (this was really only supposed to be a short blurb)

ఇ notes: i’m so sorry this took forever! i’ve been so busy with work. i hope this is alright! 💗

[4:33 am]

“you’re drunk,” you say to him, voice monotone “i’m done talking about this until you’ve sobered up and i’ve calmed down”. you close the front door behind him, as he stumbles in. he crosses his arms and juts out a hip in annoyance. if he wasn’t as drunk as he is now you know he’d roll his eyes, but at the moment he can’t even manage that.

he huffs, starting to move passed you and shakes his head “whatever,” he wobbles on unsteady legs, running into the entry wall. you move to help him level himself and in pure, emotional, instinct he pushes your hand away. “ve’got it,” he mumbles, just barely securing his footing and slowly walks by you. bending over to take off your shoes, you sigh at his outburst. hearing you he stops in his tracks, whipping his body back around “got a problem?” he makes his way back to you, softly running into you as he does so.

“no, gyu” you say, slowly “no problem, just tired. let’s talk about this after we’ve gotten some rest, yeah” you straighten your back and pat him on the shoulder “im going to bed, good night”. you stand on your tip-toes and leave a small peck on his cheek, letting your face linger next to his longer than you had meant to. you’re thinking of all the things you want to say, all of the bones you’ve got to pick with him, but before you know it he has his mouth pressed against yours and your back pushed against the front door. a small moan leaves your throat and your eyes widen in surprise, your hands resting on his arms for support.

mingyu lifts his hand to your face, holding it gently in place, as he deepens the kiss. you open your mouth slightly, only allowing him minimal access. in his state of inebriation he is quick to gently nip at your bottom lip warning you before applying more pressure and giving it a good tug before bringing his head back to make eye contact with you. “what were you saying,” he asks as you’re both trying to catch your breath. you honestly can’t even remember what you had been arguing about anymore. was it because mingyu doesn’t know how to turn off the flirtatious charm when he’s speaking to others? was it because he’d had one too many to drink when he told you he’d “only have one”? or was it because you had accepted a drink from a stranger and mingyu made a scene? no matter the reason, all that mattered now was that mingyu finish what he started.

“dunno,” you whisper, reaching up to grab at the hair on the nape of his neck. “not upset anymore,” there’s a mischievous smirk on your lips as you move forward to start where you’d left off. mingyu pushes himself back and picks you up, planning to drag you to your shared bedroom. he’s wobbling around and you’re scared for your life the entire way but, eventually, you make it to your room in one piece.

you’re unceremoniously tossed on to the bed, body bouncing on the mattress a few times at the impact. you’re about to complain when mingyu crawls onto the bed with you, hovering over your body. he sighs before bending his neck, resting his head on your shoulder mumbling something that sounded like an apology. “what,” you cock your head to the side, freeing him from his comfort space so you could hear him clearly.

“sorry i embarrassed you,” he shakes his head, his tresses tickling you as he does so “shouldn’t have made a scene. couldn’t stand to see some weirdo give you something,” you could tell there was more he wanted to say, he’s just struggling to find the words. you stay silent as you allow him time to think and when he’s ready he begins again “was worried about what they gave you too. you took it so easily and didn’t even seem to care, it could’ve been anything in that cup!” he’s not aggressive with his statement but his voice continues to grow louder as he speaks. you finally remember what had you both so heated on your way home. 

mingyu had brought you along to a party with some of his coworkers and left you unattended for a while to mingle. being the unsocial butterfly that you are you stayed close to the bar, so as not to get lost. as you were finishing up your drink someone, uninvited, took the seat next to you and had begun to try and strike up uncomfortable small-talk conversation. when the drink in question had been offered, you readily accepted it, thinking that it might just help you get through this painfully awkward moment. as soon as mingyu saw you accept the strangers drink, and throw it back in one go, he was on his way to you. ready to let this stranger know you weren’t available and to take a hike.

“baby,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair “i’m sorry i worried you. i didn’t mean to, i was just trying to get them to go away” you giggle softly, leaving kisses on his head. mingyu moves and peppers small kisses to your lips as his hands travel down to the hem of his shirt, removing it, separating from you to take it off. mingyu makes quick work of your clothes, tossing it to the floor and leaving you both naked.

mingyu is already rearing to go and he’s  sincerely hoping the alcohol is to blame, otherwise his neediness for you is much more embarrassing than he’d like to admit. you’re not much better than he is, as you’re quick to reach down and take him in your hand, stroking him. he groans as you apply pressure and tease his tip. mingyu sits up and throws his head back, allowing you to do as you please with him. “so good,” he’s whining “baby slow down, i’m already sensitive” he’s scrunching his nose and furrowing his brows in concentration. he knows he won’t last long but he wants to make the most of it, and cumming before he can even touch you is not the move.

mingyu puts his hand on yours, helping you stroke him for a bit before he stops your movements and starts rubbing his cock against you, teasing you in return. you let out a groan at the feeling of him rutting against you. “gyu,” you huff “mingyu, put it in soon, please” you’re borderline begging him. he hums in acknowledgment, but continues moving against you, hoping that you’ll climax once before he’s inside of you. you’re close when mingyu bends down and kisses the side of your neck, then you’re cheek and finally he’s tugging on your earlobe. you can hear him pant against your ear, as he’s struggling to keep his composure as he’s rutting his hips against you faster now. you finally tip over the edge and throw your head back, hips jumping as you become increasingly more sensitive.

“one more,” mingyu asks of you as he finally slides himself inside your warm walls “god please, give me one more?” you’re clawing down his back at the stretch of him and before you can even adjust he’s hitting the spots he knows only he can. “feel so good, i’m gonna cum soon,” he’s practically laying flat against you, lifting his hips and dropping them down to pound himself inside of you. mingyu’s got your head cradled in his hands as he burrows his face in your neck, licking a stripe the entire length of it before moving to kiss you. he’s so close, he can feel it in his gut. separating himself from your lips, he begins panting in your ear again. “gonna cum,” he’s repeating to you, breath tickling your neck.

“i’m so close mingyu, please don’t stop” you’re just as desperate to cum as mingyu is. you’re lifting your hips to help him fuck himself deeper inside of you. mingyu briefly lets go of your head to sling your legs over his arms, moving up your body, bringing them against your chest. mingyu takes hold of your head again, making eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours. he gives you a small peck before fucking you at a rapid pace, again. you arch your back, pressing your chest against his own and allowing him to hit deeper inside of you than before. “close, ‘m so close,” you’re eyes are glazing over in pleasure as mingyu begins to reach his peak. he takes hold of your ankles, moving your legs and stretching you to your limit. mingyu’s thrusts lose their rhythm as he begins chasing his high. he’s hitting you in all the right places, deep and fast. before you can even comprehend it you’re thrown into your own orgasm. you throw your head back and rake your nails down the expanse of his shoulders as you cry out his name. mingyu continues to fuck you through it, as you begin to babble. 

once you’ve both come down from your highs and mingyu has taken care of you, he lays you down, tucks you in and moves to snuggle as you settle down to sleep. “love you gyu, im sorry i made you feel upset. i won’t ever take something from a stranger again,” you pout, giving him a quick peck on the nose before running a finger down his chest, teasingly, “or maybe i will, we’ll see.”

[reidmania]

control | spencer reid

summary; reader has a hard time with eating habits due to lack of control, thankfully Spencer notices everything.

warnings; details of eating disorders caused by lack of control, feeling the need to control the amount & what you eat, starvation, reader is avoidant and a little tiny bit mean, hurt x comfort, angst, happish hopeful ending, female reader.

i think this is around 3k?? im not sure tho bc i cbf checking 💯💯 tags; @i-live-in-spite

an; please don’t hate me, thats all i have to say when publishing this. please.

Your pen hit against the wooden desk momentarily— repeatedly as you stared at the paperwork in front of you. Although your mind was focusing on a hundred things other than the paper you we’re supposed to be finishing.

It wasn’t until the sound of your name being called that you were pulled out of your trance, looking up you noticed Penelope Garcia standing in front of you.

She repeated your name when you met her eyes, “Sorry” You muttered softly, bringing your hand up to your face, pushing hair off of your forehead as you leant back against your desk chair. “Whats up?”

“I said your name like ten times honey. Wheres your mind” She asked softly, tilting her head slightly to the side. There was a hint of jokingness in her tone, which gave you the leverage to laugh off the question.

“I brought donuts!!” She said excitedly. Which was when you noticed the pink box in her hands. You also realised that you were insanely out of it — for not noticing sooner.

You raised your eyebrow as a slight frown hesitated over your lips, before you just pulled it back into a smile. “Thats sweet pen!! Im okay though, Thank you.” You said, smiling up at the blonde women.

She hummed, not even half convinced of your dismissal of her offer. She reached into the box pulling out your favourite donut with a wide smile on her face. “Are you sure? I got your favourite!” She said in a singsong voice as she waved it around.

You realised the chances of you getting out of taking the donut were insanely slim, probably close to none.

“Alright.” You gave in, watching her already wide smile grow impossibly wider as she placed your donut on a plain white napkin, leaving it on your desk before she shuffled away to deliver the rest of the donuts before you even got the chance to thank her.

The donut sat untouched over the course of the next few hours as you returned to your work.

“Don’t let Garcia see that you didn’t eat it. She almost assaulted me when I tried to decline” Spencer spoke from behind you, making you jump slightly, before turning your head to face him.

You were confused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. He seemed to sense your confusion, causing a small chuckle to pass his lips as he nudged his head slightly towards your desk. Your eyes followed where he head nudged towards, eyes landing upon the uneaten donut sitting there.

You sighed. “Its probably no good now anyways” You said, looking back at him for a moment. Pushing a smile to your lips before turning your head back to your work.

Spencer was easily your best friend. Not just inside the BAU but outside as well. You guys had usual outings, going to coffee shops, libraries, little cafe’s, watching doctor who together in his living room which always ended in you staying a little too late and falling asleep in his bed.

Maybe a little more then best friends, but neither of you cared to address it.

“Do you want me to get you a new one?” He asked, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he noticed your unusually dismissive behaviour. Avoiding his gaze, keeping conversation short, the way you were rubbing your temple.

He had been watching you all day, you did minimal work instead spending majority of the day staring at the paper work, then excusing yourself to the bathroom way more often then normal.

It wasn’t just today either, it had been building up slowly for ages. Spencer noticed all of it. Your tired eyes, disoriented mind and how you had grown more and more quiet as the days went on — spending too much time in your own mind.

You shook your head, not looking up at him as you started tapping your pen over and over again. “No thanks, spence. Im alright.” You muttered, your free hand coming to rub your eyes.

His frown deepened as he walked around to the side of your desk to get a clear look at your face — it was much prettier to look at than the back of your head, not that there was anything wrong with the back of your head. Your face just had much more endearing features.

“Have you eaten today?” He asked, but he knew the answer.

There was no point lying — you knew that. Spencer had been around you all day. The only time you left your desk was to go to the bathroom an abnormal amount of times an hour. “No, Ill get something later” You answered, your words falling nothing short of a lie.

He raised his eyebrow as you kept your gaze on the desk. “Did you eat yesterday?” He asked. His tone wasn’t daring or malicious in any sort of way. Pure concern laced every word.

You nodded but the words to confirm never followed, making a the pit in his stomach only deepened when the reality of what he thought was going on felt a little more confirmed.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” He asked, his voice was quiet as if he was scared if he spoke to loud you would break, scatter along the ground into a million little pieces, shards flying, only for them to prick you and leave you bleeding if you tried cleaning them up.

You turned your head slightly at his quiet request, you searched his face for something — anything that may give you any sort of reason to back out of his offer, but how could you say no to him?

“Sure. Ill come after dinner” The pit deepened.

He shook his head “No, no. Let’s cook something.” He suggested, you only laughed at him, eyes widening slightly.

“Me and you cooking? Come on spence be serious” You laughed, he almost wanted to feed into the joke just to continue to see the smile on your face, but he knew it was ingenuine. He couldn’t be upset about it.

“I am being serious.”

Your head tilted to the side as you looked up at him, you could see on his face — he was waiting for an answer. You finally gave in, sighing. “Fine, do you want me go to the shops on the way there?” You asked.

He shook his head, “I’ll go, all you have to do is show up” He said, a smile lacing his lips — it almost made you smile back. “Okay” You agreed once more before.

He smiled, before returning back to his desk.

Normally you would be ecstatic to hang out with Spencer — on any other occasion. The idea of having to cook and then feeling too bad to deny the food after the effort you both put in didn’t exactly strike your fancy all that much.

Your hand knocked on his door and moments later he was opening it with a soft smile on his face. He stepped aside letting you walk in wordlessly as you set your bag down by the door, taking in the warmth of his apartment that soothed the cold of your skin slightly, not enough, nothing seemed to sooth that.

“I got the stuff to make pasta.. I figured it was simple and easy enough for us” He mumbled as he took your hand in his, guiding you to the kitchen, you let out a small laugh, following him.

Although the feeling of discomfort remained in your chest and all over your body, not because of his hand in yours or anything to do with him, but the idea of food make your stomach twist, which the knowledge you’d have to be around it constantly with no chance of an escape or way out, it made your blood run cold.

“Awesome” You mumbled out, much more enthusiastically than you felt. His hand pressed softly against your back as he moved to stand on the side of you before his hand left, instead pressing against the counter as his eyes stayed on your face.

He hummed softly, looking down at the ingredients he had brought after asking rossi for a recipe he could use, the simplest the elder man had was given.

Spencer began by boiling the pasta, although you teased him about buying store brought pasta instead of making it yourselves like the recipe recommended, you had mixed opinions on it.

On one hand, the store brought pasta saved you both a lot of time and energy and probably mess, knowing if the two of you attempted to make it yourselves it would end up being a big mess and probably take about three different tries before you got it close to right.

On the other, heavier hand, your mind seemed clouded with the knowledge of how much sugar and fats were in store brought pasta, how processed it was seemed to take over the space in your mind. It was silly, you knew that deep down it was such a little thing and it didn’t make that much of a difference— to anyone else.

To you it was everything.

“I think the water is boiling” Spencer mumbled as he looked over the water in the pot, a laugh slipped through your lips as his half convinced voice pulled you from your mess of a mind. You walked towards where he was standing to look over the water in the pot that was in fact boiling.

“Well it’s bubbling and extremely hot.. so yes, I think you would be right” You nudged him slightly as he placed the pasta into the pot, your stomach clenched.

The two of you worked to cut vegetables together, in your mind you were working up the math of how many calories was in all of this combined, Spencer noticed your distracted glance, the way your mind seemed to be a hundred different places at once, anywhere but there with him.

He frowned, “What’s going through your head?” He asked softly, dropping his gaze back down to the zucchini he was cutting into thin slices, each one a different size to the other but he figured it didn’t matter.

You turned your head to look at him, aching at his question entirely. You wanted to tell him the thoughts running through your mind, the concern and doubt that had been consuming you for weeks but it all died on your tongue when his hands reached into the bag to bring out a jar sauce.

You hated the way that a stupid jar of sauce was what caused the most reaction from you, instead of answering his question your eyes widened and your head immediately was shaking. “We can’t use that.” You muttered.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confused and concern as he looked between you and the jar of sauce for a moment, wondering if maybe there was something you were allergic too or if this was the chance he had to confirm his idea of what had been going on with you.

“Why not?” He quizzed.

You huffed out, hands stilling on the knife and tomato you were cutting, before the knife was placed on the cutting board and you were reaching out for a tea down to wipe your hands. “We just- We can’t.” You settled on.

He raised his eyebrow, placing the jar on the table. Spencer wasn’t stupid, not in the slightest, although he knew pushing on this was either the smartest or dumbest thing he could possibly do in this situation.

“But why?” He pushed anyways.

You dragged your hands through your hair, “Do you know how much sugar is in that? Thats like so insanely processed and unhealthy..” You muttered out.

It all kind of settled in for Spencer in that moment, he had known you for years, you were never a crazy health freak. He had seen the signs come and go over the last few years but they were always subtle enough, until more recently, they came and they just didn’t seem to go.

“Does that bother you?” He challenged quietly.

You could see it in his eyes and feel it in the air that he exhaled that seemed to fill the space between the two of you, he knew.

“Yes- Spencer. Obviously it bothers me or else I wouldn’t tell you we couldn’t use it.” You stated, obviously growing frustrated. Spencer would normally double down at this point, not wanting to argue but he knew you, he knew this. There was no real other way to get you to break.

If he approached it softly, you’d deny it. He tried that before.

“Why? Why does it bother you?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. His tone was still laced with concern and slight challenge. It made your stomach tense and your arms line with goosebumps.

“Spencer seriously” You mumbled out, looking up at him, “Just drop it.” You sighed out, “Use the sauce- but I’m not eating it.”

He hummed, of course he wasn’t going to use the sauce if you had a real issue with it. He knew you had a real issue with it. Obviously. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Tell me why you aren’t eating” He pushed lightly.

“I am eating.” You huffed out, dragging your hands down your face.

He just hummed again, obviously disinterested in hearing your weak arguments and defence. “I know you’re not, I just don’t know why.” He argued back, he wasn’t going to drop this, not when it was something so concerning to your health.

“Spencer” You tone was a warning he chose to ignore. You could feel the tears burning their way behind your eyes and the tingle in the bridge of your nose which gave you enough of a warning of how this was going to go.

“Talk to me, sweet girl. I want to help you, let me help you.” He said breathlessly, his tone much softer than it had been previously, he stepped close to you, hands reaching out to grab onto your wrists. His fingers dug gently into the pressure point of your wrists, you’d die before you’d admit it helped regulate the emotions coursing through your body, even though it did.

You cursed his beautiful smart brain.

“I just- Cant.. I can’t eat.” You admitted, the tears now blurring your vision as the made way to the waterline of your eyes, your voice was shaky and cracked in every other syllable of your words.

His expression softened, he figured the words he wanted to say could wait. Instead his hands tugged you closer to him gently as he pulled your body flush against his. His hand cradling the back of your head as his fingers threaded through your hair to hold your head in place against his chest, his other hand resting on your upper back as he held you tightly.

Your arms instantly wrapped around his waist as your head found home in the fabric of his shirt over his chest, you chose to focus on the rhythmic beating of his heart rather than the thoughts that swarmed your mind, the doubt and the lack of focus all being forgotten for a moment as you melted in the feeling of Spencer’s arms.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He whispered softly into your hair after a moment, as his head rested on top of yours. The words making your heart skip a beat, and a sigh to pass through your lips, the tears continuing to roll down your cheeks.

You pulled back slightly in order to look up at him, voice shaky and quiet as you spoke. “It’s- Its not about that” You admitted. Sure you had days where you didn’t feel the greatest about yourself but that wasn’t the cause of your lack of eating.

He furrowed his eyebrows, leaning down to nudge his forehead against yours softly before leaning his head back, fingertips running gently over your scalp, soothingly. “Then what is it about?” He asked, genuinely wanting to understand.

You sighed, your hands leaving his waist to instead rest against his biceps as you lacked the words to explain your thought process. “I- I just-“ How were you suppose to put the million different thoughts running through your mind into simple words. “I don’t know how to— Say it”

He hummed, understanding. “Word blab, just say anything you feel, everything. It doesn’t have to make sense.. I’ll make sense of it. Im good at puzzles” He mumbled out the slight joke yet his tone was still soft and serious, you had to ignore the way your eyes threatened to roll playfully.

You were silent for a moment before another deep sigh left your parted lips, eyes moving away from his as the words left your mouth in a ramble;

“Its- Everything is so much— Like constantly so much and I feel like everything is moving so fast constantly.. I can’t breathe half the time— And work- god work, everything is happening; people are constantly getting hurt and dying, people are dying and theres nothing we can do about it ever— We can’t save everyone I know but I hate it - everything feels like a mess, im a mess and I just- The amount I eat.. and what I eat is the one thing I have control over; full control.”

The tears were flowing and your voice came out shaky and breathy. Along with a few hiccups that broke through the sobs that ruined the flow of your sentence as you blabbed out everything you couldn’t quite make sense of yourself.

Spencer frowned as he listened to you, taking in every word and every half finished sentence as you just broke down, he took in the way your voice broke and you ended up back against his chest in tears. He didn’t say anything for a moment as he instead held you tightly.

When he did speak, his voice was gentle and warm, like a big hug after a bad day. “I understand — As much as I can. I understand what you are saying. Its normal to want to control things especially when things feel so out of control around you.. But this isn’t a healthy way of coping with that feeling. And i know you know that, sweetheart.” His fingers smoothed out your hair.

You didn’t reply so he continued. “I know you feel like you are making yourself feel better, like you have control over the amount your eating but this is how a cycle starts and I’m pretty sure you also know that, since i am almost positive this isn’t the first time this has happened— Am I right to think that?” he asked softly.

Your breath shook as you nodded into the fabric of his shirt. He hummed in response. He knew that — he had seen it before.

“So you know that when it gets to a certain point you are no longer actually in control of it, instead you actually have the least amount of control. Eating disorders are like an addiction and a disease.. It takes control of you before you even realise it’s happening — and then you actually have less control than you did originally.”

You huffed out as you leant away from his chest to take a deep breath and meet his eyes. You knew he was right, but it made your chest ache to hear aloud. To be told so directly the thought you tried to ignore.

“I just- Everything is a mess.” You mumbled. He nodded.

“Everything is a mess.. But it doesn’t have to stay that way you know? Theres ways to cope with when things feel a little too messy around you, and little too messy up here” He mumbled as his hand came to tap gently against the side of your head. “Theres other things you can control that don’t put your health at risk”

You let a little smile break way onto your lips. It was hard not to smile at the sound of his sweet gentle voice he had reserved for sensitive moments like this. You hummed, shaking your head slightly.

“You’ll help?” You asked softly, looking up at him.

He nodded immediately, “Everyday.” He promised silently, moving down to press his forehead slightly against yours, offering you a small smile.

You returned it, “Thank you.” You breathed out quietly. You knew this wouldn’t be an easy process, you knew it would be a lot of back and forth and take a lot out of you. You would have to rewire the way your brain chose to cope — but—

“Don’t thank me, Sweet girl. Thank you, for trusting me. We can fix this up yeah? Get your pretty mind better, huh?”

— it all seemed a little bit lighter knowing Spencer would be there along the way.

[yauchfilms]

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 

“i thought you said we weren’t–” 

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

[giamee]

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🫀 )

there's a certain beauty and pain in being with someone carnally, and nothing more than that

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | friends with benefits, more angst than smut, like this is basically all angst no smut lol, kinda short too mb

header art (left to right) by pcrow ; artsquirre ; _sekidesu

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ being in a situationship is all fun and games until u catch feelings fr 😕. anyways. let's go thru that pain in this. lowkey i wanna make a part 2 to this with a happy ending cos im SOFT lmaooo

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ALHAITHAM.

BEING IN... WHATEVER THIS RELATIONSHIP COULD BE CLASSIFIED AS was not good for your mental health. in the past weeks that you and alhaitham had started sleeping together, you had been plunged into one of the worst emotional rollercoasters that you had ever been on.

what didn't help was the way he treated you so differently depending on the setting. you understood not wanting people to know, but did he have to ignore you entirely in public?

he wouldn't even spare you a glance as you walk past each other in the halls, eyes stubbornly trained ahead, leaving you steamrolled in his icy trail. and if you dare to try and talk to him- he'd look at you like you've grown a second head, completely shunning you and walking away as quickly as possible.

but it's a different story behind closed doors- in private, he's the sweetest man alive.

he'll whisper such sweet nothings into your ear, wipe your tears so tenderly with his thumbs like a lover would. he'd prop himself up with an elbow just so that he can gaze into your eyes as he pushes into you, even smiling at you as he watches the way your expression changes.

and the way he kisses you is what really throws you- always with such desperation and urgency, like he needs you in order to breathe when it's quite the opposite. he kisses you like he loves you, and the sensation is dizzying, perplexing when those fantasies are ripped from you in favour of reality.

but you know that you won't ever be his. not properly.

if it was meant to be, he'd at least smile at you as he passed. the more rational parts of your brain screamed at you to call it quits before you're sucked in too deep, but some part of you still held onto the hope that one day he would see you then smile.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 THOMA.

IT TRULY HURT TO REMEMBER THAT you weren't actually dating thoma. it was easy to get fooled- he was a gentleman, making sure to treat you right even when you weren't fucking. he'd make sure that you were okay, and he never kicked you out as soon as it was over.

he'd ask about your day, take interest in you and what you're doing. and arguably, worst of all, he wasn't afraid to be seen with you. the details that blurred the lines defining your relationship seemed like an afterthought, if the way his arm wrapped around your shoulders indicated anything.

you were his, unofficially or not. it only took a glance to be able to tell.

you liked to think that he was yours, too. that you meant something to him- more than just a pastime and a stress reliever.

there were moments where it was easier to believe it- with the way his eyes remain transfixed on you as you writhe in pleasure, cries of his name leaving your lips- his little coos and reassurances buttering you up, having you right in his palm, so pliant and willing for him.

maybe he got off on knowing that he makes you feel good in every sense of the word. seeing you happy acting as some sort of foreplay, all so he can claim you as his in every way except the one that you wanted most.

the urge to tell him how you feel, those three little words that dangle on the tip of your tongue and fight to be freed, are a constant struggle. but something inside you, some sick gut instinct, stopped you from blurting it out every time.

the fear of his reaction- disgust? confusion? kept you uncertain. a part of you would die if he didn't reciprocate your feelings. it was better not to know, and keep living in the make-belief of being his without the label.

you could only hope that you would be proved wrong one day.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WRIOTHESLEY.

DESPITE EVERYTHING, YOU COULDN'T HELP BUT crawl back to him every single time. a never-ending cycle- one that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to.

both of you knew how it goes. you unblock him, play coy for a few messages before he's telling you to come over. you fuck like it's the last time you ever will- it never is- and then you spend the night.

he'll hold you, play with your hair, even kiss you, and you pretend that it's enough. if you're lucky, he'll even lend you a shirt that smells of him to sleep in.

and this facade is fine- while it lasts. but then you remember why you blocked him in the first place- the forced indifference, his refusal to open up. the way it hurt your heart to be pushed aside.

and then you go and ask him what you mean to him. he'll smile at you without mirth, the both of you knowing how this conversation goes. he doesn't want anything serious. you want more.

and then it's tears, you ripping off his shirt and throwing it back at him, storming out of his place and blocking his number with shaking fingers.

you cry yourself to sleep in your cold and empty bed- already sorely missing the warmth of his body as he holds you close to him in his sleep, whether he's aware of that or not.

and you're fine, you tell yourself. you can live without him. and you do, for a little while. honestly, he's the last thing on your mind as you distract yourself with work or seeing your friends.

but then a lonely night gets the best of you, abd you find your finger hovering over the call button next to his name. and you press it, cursing yourself for doing it.

he picks up at the third ring, voice smug as if he knew you couldn't go much longer without him.

and he's right, unfortunately.

you're already out the door, on the way to his apartment.

𝜗𝜚 genshin impact masterlist

[dwaekkicidal]

Sharing is Caring [3.5: ChanLix]

˚ʚBang Chan x Lee Felixɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Chris comes home to a seemingly empty dorm, ready to relax and relieve the stress from the day away. Though... he really didn't expect to relieve it like this.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 5.6k (don't look at me.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: member x member content: dont like dont interact <3 (you can also block the #mxm tag), lots of yapping (if you cant already tell by the word count), mentions of poly relationships (specifically skz x female and felix x han), dom!channie and sub-slightly bratty lix hehe, brat taming, slightly meandom chris?, brief mention of chris having a solo-jerking off session, lots of jerking off, multiple rounds, overstimulation, unprotected sex, slight dubcon? (felix says wait a few times but he doesn’t really mean it), i thiiiink thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: this took waaaaay too long for me to get out LMFAO but i finally got it done!!! small update on this series: i think im going to make an ot8 x reader (with a mxm sub chapter lol) and then close out this series >.< i wanna keep writing for it but i just have a jumbled mess of mxm ideas so i think i finish with ot8 and decide later on what to do

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The events of that first Friday night had haunted Chris. But not in a bad way. It was more so that he hadn’t expected any of his members to… explore each other in that way. Even after they all had agreed to the polyamorous relationship, he didn’t expect anybody to make moves on each other. Let alone the fact that they had done it prior to the main relationships starting.

Though, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made that it was the sunshine twins out of everyone. They got along great, both in public and in the comfort of privacy, and he could recall certain times where rather suspicious looks between the two were exchanged before they disappeared not to be heard from for an hour.

And he sure as hell can’t deny how hard he gets at the imagery of what these encounters would look like between the two. Especially not when his jeans manage to get tighter and tighter as the seconds pass and more visions flood in about the smallest two of the group.

But all of this comes to a halt as he takes the final step to be in front of his door. He blinks a few times, not realizing that he had indeed gone up the elevator and walked through the hallway to get to his dorm amidst all his daydreaming. He sighs loudly and digs for his keys in his pocket

Aside from those dirty thoughts lingering, it was eerily quiet as he walks through the hallways of the dorm. He simply assumed that Hyunjin had taken their girlfriend and left the dorm, so he didn’t bother to check the younger’s room. Instead, he just beelined it for his bedroom and closed the door as fast as possible.

He all but tossed his bags on the floor and threw himself onto his bed, exhausted after the hours and hours he had spent in the studio fighting with countless tracks that he just couldn’t seem to get right. He laid there like a pile of bones until he eventually pushed off the bed and forced his way to his dresser. A small pile of clothes is picked out and his robe is grabbed before he mozeyd his way to his shower.

The water is much colder than usual. It’s just barely tolerable but he hopes that it will break down his nasty thoughts, so he sits under the water for much longer than he usually would have. The water trickles down his toned back and he takes a few deep breaths as the last few hours replay in his head.

Han and Changbin had sent him home early, they could tell something was on his mind and he was more distracted than usual. He’d never admit that it was thanks to the youngest in the room, so he kept quiet and just brushed it off. But after a few hours of working and the two other producers trying to get him to talk about it, and failing, they told him to just go home and relax.

They promised to take care of everything as long as he went home and de-stressed. “Maybe even ask Bunny for help.” He sighs as Changbin’s words replay in his mind. It wasn’t a bad idea… A very specific type of release sounded pretty good right about now but considering she wasn’t around, he was at a standstill.

Either he takes care of himself and prays that it’s enough to satisfy him, or he waits however long he has to for his girlfriend to return home and ask her to help him out. And he decided on the latter. Though, part of him hoped the thoughts would go away naturally during the cold shower.

But once the water becomes unbearable and he’s still plagued with the same images from earlier, he grows even more frustrated. He subconsciously rolls his eyes and groans as he shuts the water off, forcing himself out of the shower. He doesn’t bother tying the robe, he just slides his arms through the sleeves and wears it wide open as he walks over to his bed and plops down onto it.

Welp. Plan B.

Some minutes later, his cock aches as he jerks himself off with nothing but thoughts of a certain blonde boy on his knees below him. As if it’s actually happening, his legs spread wider and his hips buck up into his hand. His whole body shivers as his thumb runs through his slit, some of the precum spreading around his tip and making his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

Chan feels like he has no control of his body as he throws his head back and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. He finally allows himself to make a noise- a quiet whine escaping his throat as his stomach clenches, his orgasm right on its cusp.

Then, a sudden, loud knock on his bedroom door makes him jump out of his skin, and his head spins as his hand flies away from his cock, his orgasm already fading away. He wasn’t expecting any visitors and, as far as he was aware, the dorm was completely empty aside from him.

He wholeheartedly thought about ignoring it, hoping that the unknown person would just leave. But then, an all too familiar deep voice calls out to him from the other side of the door, making his arm hairs stick up. “Channie-hyung, are you there? You wanted to talk?”

His eye and his dick twitches and he stares at the door in awe, jaw dropped on the floor. Speak of the devil. He immediately covers himself with the robe, tying it half-assed and rushing to call out to the boy. “Y-Yeah! Come in.”

The door knob turns and Chris almost moans at the sight of Felix clad in a tank top and shorts. Even the slightest semblance of skin would send him spiraling but seeing so much of it, and seeing the outline of his entire torso through this tight shirt makes his dick twitch against his robe.

“Earth to Chris~ Hello?” 

“Ah! Sorry, mate..” He clears his throat and tears his eyes away from the younger’s chest. “What’s up?”

Felix’s face starts to burn red and he smiles knowingly, but he bites his laugh back and repeats his sentence with a more teasing tone. “A little birdy said that you wanted to talk to me about something~”

Chris blinks a few times, staying quiet as he rummages through his foggy brain for an explanation. “Ah! Right- Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck and saunters over to take a seat directly next to him, shivering when Felix leans in and their thighs touch.

“Uh…” Chan rakes his mind as he tries to find the right words, but they don’t come. So he opts to simply explain himself and then hopefully find the right wording. “So. First things first- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable so if this crosses a line, we won't speak about it ever again.” Felix’s eyebrow twitches up in curiosity and he nods slowly. 

“So… Han told me about the two of you.” Felix chuckles and mumbles out a quiet, teasing ‘Yeah?’ that makes Chris’ head spin. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold himself back from moaning as Felix’s voice meets his ears again. “Actually… Han and I spoke the night you three hooked up with our angel, so I know that he told you.”

Felix smiles at the wide eyes he gets in response, but he continues nonetheless. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact-” He leans forward even more, placing a hand on Chris’ thigh and smirking to himself when the older man whimpers, barely audible. “In fact, I think it’s pretty hot.”

He leans forward all the way and lays his cheek on Chris’ shoulder, hand sneaking up his thigh more and more. His breath is hot on the older’s neck and Chris has to physically bite back yet another moan. He can't, however, bite back the strong twitch from the prominent bulge in his robe.

Felix smiles to himself and tests the limits further, ghosting his hand along Chan’s bulge before walking his fingers up his torso. “We’ve spoken about it before, you know?” Chan’s breath gets caught in his throat but he hums in acknowledgement, signaling Felix to continue. “He told me how big and pretty your dick was. And how submissive you made him feel~. ‘Said you were a real good Daddy.”

This time a moan breaks through and falls past Chris’ lips in a low tone, his legs twitching and arms shaking as he leans back onto them and gives Felix more space to work with. “Shit- Really?” It comes out desperate and deep, to the point where it riles up Felix in all the right ways.

“Mhm. Made me want a go.” Chan’s eyes snap open and he turns his head to meet the younger’s gaze. Their faces are inches apart and he can feel his composure fading away with each second. “Y-You- Yeah?”

Felix doesn’t bother holding back the breathy laugh that comes out. He just nods with his cheek curling up in a smirk. His hand is on Chris’ collarbone at this point and he traces small circles into the sweaty skin there.

The air is heavy as silence fills the room, but Felix doesn’t seem bothered by it. He has a small smile on his face as he continues to tease Chan’s neck with his finger tips. This goes on for a few more seconds as the eldest takes many deep breaths, doing everything in his power to calm his racing heart down. After he finally calms himself down, he finds it in himself to hype himself up.

“So… you want me as bad as I want you?” Felix’s ears start turning red as he nods slowly, lips still pulled up in a smile. Chris only bites his lip, racking his brain for the smallest amount of confidence so he can take control of the situation. The continued silence from the younger man gives him an idea and he finally makes a move, settling his hand on Felix’s cheek to start. His thumb strokes the freckles there and he can feel his confidence grow when the younger melts into his touch.

“Mmmm… And if Han told you about what happened that night, then I would have hoped he told you that I don’t like brats.” Felix’s smirk finally falters and he nods at the older, eyes glossy as they look up at him. Chris sighs and his hand trails down to Felix’s neck where he squeezes it experimentally. “Then… You should know better than to not use your words. Right?” Felix exhales deeply and nods again before catching himself.

“Yes… Sorry.”

Chris’ chest swells with the confidence that he needed and he squeezes his hand again, watching as Felix’s eyes flutter closed. “What is all this for, then? You’re trying to slut yourself out to me?” Felix shivers and doesn’t answer right away, making Chris squeeze his hand tighter and wait until their eyes meet again to loosen the hold. “Huh?”

“Yes, I-” He takes a deep breath, “I want you to play with me- like you did with Hannie.” The second the confirmation left his mouth, Chris wastes no time and shoves his lips against Felix’s. The hand around his neck stays there almost possessively as their tongues breach each other’s mouths. They moan into the kiss as Felix’s hands move to Chan’s biceps. He’s gotten so big recently, and Felix couldn't lie about how hot and bothered it got him.

The information would have to pried from their cold, dead hands, but neither Han nor Felix could deny that they both got off on just how muscular their members have become recently. Even when they would “have fun” with just each other, they tended to bring up one of their members and their sexy bodies.

It’s not until their lungs burn that they pull away from each other. But even then, Chris is already so pent up from weeks of fantasizing, and that mixed with his orgasm getting denied just minutes prior leads to needy impatience. So he, again, wastes no time. He pushes Felix onto the bed by his shoulder and crawls on top of him, sinking his hands and his knees into his mattress as he hovers over him.

His knee pushes up against Felix’s cock through his shorts and his thick lips latch onto Felix’s neck, making the boy moan louder than he expected himself to. He goes to react and cover his mouth with the back of his hand, but Chris reacts faster. He reaches up to capture both of Felix’s small wrists in one of his hands and pins them above his head.

“What happened to wanting to play like Hannie? You know, he was really well behaved then.” Felix whines at first at the gruffness in Chan’s voice, but eventually laughs through it once he realizes what he said. “Mmm… I hate to be the one to tell you, but Hannie and I aren’t exactly well behaved in bed. Even to each other. You just got lucky.”

Chan’s hands falter and Felix laughs out loud when he hears the quiet “More brats? Are you fucking kidding me…” Chris sighs loudly and rubs circles into Felix’s hip as can already feel the future headaches coming on. But, obviously, now is not the time for that. Especially not when he has one of said brats at his disposal, with their consent to play.

“You’re really gonna make me fight for this? Don’t even wanna try being my good boy?” Felix’s eyes shimmer at the pet name and he quickly finds himself in a dilemma. “You’ve been on my mind all fucking week. If you seriously can’t find it in you to be good, I’m not going to hold back when I fuck you like a whore.” Felix shivers and his leg kicks up as Chan’s knee pushes against him harder. 

Their lips lock and Chris’ hands move to trail up and down his body, from ghosting over his chest to sliding up under his shirt just to rake his dull nails down Felix’s stomach. Then they drop lower and tug Felix’s shorts down just enough so that his V-line is on display. As he tugs the shorts down, he kisses down Felix’s throat, making a pit stop there to leave dark hickeys into his skin.

Felix’s hips buck up and Chris indulges him by running his hands on his hips, squeezing them in appreciation before swinging around to knead his ass, spreading him through his shorts just to push them back together.

“Pretty thing. You really gonna let me play with you?” Felix nods eagerly and whimpers when Chris yanks his shirt over his head and then kisses down his chest.

“H-Hyung..” Chris only smiles in response. He bites his lip and looks Felix up and down once more, ghosting his hands over the younger boy’s hip bone.

“Hmmm?”

“Please take them off! I need you so bad.” Chris isn’t one to tolerate being bossed around, but he did ask nicely with a cute little comment at the end, so he lets it slide this time. He tugs Felix’s shorts down to his ankles as he nibbles on his hip. When he pulls away, his eyes widen at the sight of Felix being completely bare now- his pretty cock twitching just inches from his face.

“Felix… Where is your underwear, baby.” Felix’s face flushes and he smiles sideways.

“We played a little before you got home. Hyunjin and I made her squirt like two hours ago.” Chan’s eyebrow cocks and he slowly nods with a smirk.

“Good job…” Chris mutters under his breath. He kisses Felix’s waist and squeezes his hips, humming against his skin as he appreciates the younger’s smaller form. “Can’t wait to fuck this pretty little ass.~”

Chris reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a small bottle of lube, spurting some onto his fingers before poking at Felix’s puckering hole. He slides a finger in all too easily, and for a moment the thought of somebody other than Han getting Felix’s ass before him. He frowns at the thought, jealousy filling his veins, and he shoves that finger in to the knuckle suddenly, almost as a punishment for Felix.

The younger moans high-pitched and keens, his back arching off the bed. Chris smiles and nibbles at Felix’s stomach, leaving hickies all along his v-line. Felix already feels so full by the time Chris adds his second finger, then even more when a third gets added- stretching Felix out more than his small fingers ever had. Or Han’s finger’s for that matter.

He revels in the stretch for some time, rolling his hips back and forth onto the knobby fingers that dig into his walls. As he’s doing this, Chris sneaks his other hand from palming his cock through his robe in favor of wrapping around Felix’s base, squeezing it softly before starting to stroke him slowly.

“Was it just Han?” He gives Felix time to answer, understanding that it can be overwhelming, but when the boy stays quiet he curls his fingers roughly, digging perfectly into Felix’s prostate and making him cry out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“I asked you a question, Lix.” Chan’s fingers speed up as his other hand focuses on tight, long strokes, causing Felix’s eyes to flutter shut as he moans and clenches around the fingers inside of him.

“Y-Yes just him! I swear! I haven’t- ah! I haven’t talked to any of the others about it yet.” Chan’s eyebrows perk up and he smirks, “‘Yet’?” He laughs and pulls his fingers out, manhandling the younger boy to flip over and lay on his stomach instead.

He’s in the process of sliding his robe off when Felix starts to wiggle around too much for Chan’s liking, so he tsks and sends his palm onto the flesh of Felix’s ass. The younger yelps and halts his movements, allowing Chris to take hold of his wrists and pin them to his lower back.

Chris whistles and massages the reddening flesh of Felix’s ass, admiring just how red it got from one small spank. His tongue poked the side of lip as he grew distracted with thoughts of making them even more red, but was brought back down to earth by the whines coming from below him.

He shushes Felix and tightens the grip on his wrists. Then he moves his hand down to pump himself a few times, even putting a show onto circle his tip around Felix’s rim, much to the younger’s dismay.

“M-Man… Chris hurry the hell u-” He’s interrupted by a yelp caused by the much harsher slap to the same ass cheek as before. Chris huffs and his hand comes down on Felix’s other ass cheek, making the boy twitch with a whimper.

“Lose the ‘tude.” Chris finally pushes in, moving his hands to hold onto Felix’s hip in order to lift his ass up higher, making him rest on his knees instead of being flat on his stomach. Once he’s nearly bottomed out all the way, he gives Felix some time to get used to the feeling of being full and slithers that same hand down his stomach so he can wrap his hand around Felix’s dick.

“Oh my g-od… ‘So big-” His veiny hand pumps slowly, making the younger moan and clench harder around him, and making himself groan in response. “H-Hyung.. Please move. I-I can’t-” Chris hushes him, placing a kiss on his shoulder as he starts to move slowly. Felix shakes and arches his back, he’s still sensitive from the orgasm he had earlier and he can’t help but clench even harder at feeling so much fuller than he’s used to.

“F-Fuck.. You’re so tight Lix. You gotta relax, baby.”

Felix shivers and tightens his hands in the sheets as Chris squeezes his hips and thrusts his hips upwards experimentally. When Felix moans and arches his back, Chris moves to rest on his forearms near the younger boy’s head, nails digging into the sheets as his hips gradually grow rougher and rougher. He moves cautiously though, eyes locked onto Felix’s as the younger shakes beneath him.

Every time Chris bottoms out, Felix’s voice cracks in a moan. His small hands release the sheets in favor of digging his nails into Chris’ forearm. “Channie!” Chan responds by slamming his hips against Felix’s, bottoming out in one fell swoop. “Use your words, baby. Be a big boy and tell me what you want.”

“I need it faster Hyung- Please-” Chris fixes his posture and uses the grip on Felix’s hips to pull him backward. Then he slams his hips forward and pulls Felix back onto him at the same time, making the man below him silently scream. He repeats this action, harshly fucking into Felix and pulling him back onto him with each thrust.

Felix is drooling onto the sheets at this point, and Chris can feel his sanity slipping from him as he relishes in the feeling of Felix’s heat around his cock. Chris’ jaw drops and he breathes heavily as Felix’s ass milks him dry, his own cock twitching as it drips cum onto Chris’ sheets. 

They stay there for a moment, catching their breaths and calming down from their orgasms. Chris is the first to recover, pulling out of Felix slowly as if to tease him further. Felix shivers and swats his hand back at Chris with a whine. The older man laughs and holds him still until he’s finally out all the way, then his hands on Felix’s hips move to his ass cheeks, spreading him open and allowing him to watch his cum drip out of Felix’s gaping hole.

Felix’s head is still spinning, so he can’t bring himself to complain at Chris’ heavy gaze. He barely notices when he’s pulled to his feet, the only thing ground him being Chris’ thick lips pushing against his. It’s a short, sweet kiss. Just one that Chris used to make sure Felix was ok.

Once he’s sure, he leads Felix to his bathroom and digs in the cabinets for a washcloth to clean the younger man with. When he finds one and turns back around, his cock twitches back to life at the sight of Felix studying the hickeys and little red marks- soon to be bruises- on his hips. With a smile on his face.

Chris feels his cock twitch at the sight and he finds himself slowly stalking towards the bathroom mirror where he settles himself behind Felix, his arms wrapping around the younger's waist. Felix’s smile doesn’t falter as they make eye contact and Chris acts before he thinks, grinding his hips against Felix’s ass as his lips latch onto the boy’s shoulder.

Felix’s eyes widen and he laughs in disbelief, “You’re hard again??” Chris giggles against his skin and bites down, angling his hips to push his cock between Felix’s ass cheeks. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’ve been on my mind all week. ‘Been dreaming about fucking your brains out.”

One of Felix’s eyebrows cocks up and he bites his lips to hide his smirk, his inner brat coming back out now that he can think straight. “Who said you fucked my brains out? Last I checked I can still think properly.” Chris’ eyes roll in faux annoyance and he closes his eyes for a second, opening them back up with a fire in them as he pulls away from the new hickey he just left.

“Really?”

Felix smiles and reaches out to turn on the water for the washcloth, not expecting much more out of Chris right now considering he just came an insane amount inside of him- the cum still dripping down his thighs as they speak.

What he didn’t account for was how pent up Chris was. He didn’t know how bad his cock has ached the last few weeks for him, or how distracted and frustrated he’s been at work- unable to focus on anything but the thoughts of Felix below him at his mercy.

Chris doesn’t have much patience at this point, and even less self control, so it’s no surprise to himself when he angles Felix forward just slightly and slides a hand between them to slide his tip into the younger boy’s hole. It surprises Felix though, and his eyes roll into the back of his head as Chris sinks in all the way, his balls hitting his ass in the process

“W-Wait- Hyung-?” Felix’s fingers dig into the counter as Chris starts moving right off the bat. He’s had multiple orgasms in the last few hours and he can feel himself slipping into some sort of subspace as Chris’ hands sneak a tight grip into his hair.

“Hm. For somebody who’s ‘not fucking your brains out,’ you sure look like a brainless slut on my cock.” Felix moans loudly at Chris’ mean words, even more so at how unbothered he sounds, and his eyes snap open. His eyes quickly fall to the mirror in front of him and he shivers at the reminder of the hickeys littering his neck, feeling like he’s been claimed of sorts.

Chris’ eyes meet his in the mirror and he shakes aggressively when Chris thrusts harshly, his hand wrapping around Felix’s base at the same time. His hands move fast and Felix cries out as his orgasm builds insanely fast out of nowhere, the stinging feeling on his head only egging him on further. His body doesn’t give him anytime to warn Chris as he cums suddenly, his cock spurting onto the counter and some onto Chris’ hand.

He can see the smirk grow on Chris face, but his overstimulated body could care less about that, only focused on the squeeze around his cock. His own hand bolts down to Chris’ and he moans at the difference in the size of them. He wraps his hand around Chris’ wrist instead and tries to pull him away, only for Chris to squeeze him tighter and growl into his ear.

“Wait...” Felix shakes his head as tears prick his eyes. Chris would normally stop himself and allow the other person some time to breathe, but he feels this is a sufficient punishment for Felix trying to brat out- just for him to fail anyway.

The hand in his hair moves in favor of pinching his nipples and Felix’s eyes roll shut at the extra attention on his body. His legs shake almost nonstop and he can barely hold himself up. But despite all the overstimulation, his hips still push back against Chris’, making the older man huff out a laugh.

Soon enough Chris’s hand releases Felix’s cock, allowing him to breathe for a moment, and only a moment, because that hand digs into the muscles on Felix’s thigh and lifts it up. He angles his leg to rest his knee on the counter, allowing Chris to thrust even deeper now.

“Chris… I’m- shit!” His head drops and his arms shake, struggling to hold himself up. The new depth mixed with the sensitivity of his entire body makes Felix clench constantly around Chris.

“Gonna cum again, angel? ‘S Channie gonna make you cum again?” His voice wavers as he talks, his own orgasm dangerously close.

Felix’s chest heaves as he cums and Chris follows, a string of curses leaving his lips as he pushes them against Felix’s jawline. As he continues fucking into Felix to ride out his orgasm, Felix cums again, this time with a desperate cry that makes his voice crack and the tears in his eyes finally fall. Chris pulls out suddenly and holds Felix tightly against his chest as he jerks the younger off, making him convulse in his hold.

He whimpers and digs his nails into any part of Chris that he can reach, leaving red marks in his hand’s wake. He only calms down once Chris releases him fully, causing him to sob quietly at the overstimulation.

“You okay?” Felix nods slowly and leans back, putting all his weight on Chris as he feels his mind hovering elsewhere. Chris recognizes the general signs of subspace all too easily, having already experienced it multiple times with their girlfriend, and he chuckles lowly. “Shower time and then we’ll cuddle to sleep.”

He leaves no room for disagreements, and even if Felix could talk, he wouldn’t bother. So he simply holds onto Chris tightly as the older man washes his body off, being cautious when cleaning below his belly button. They only separate for a minute or so, so that Chris could wash himself off again, before they’re stepping out of the shower.

Chris manages to dress Felix then himself in a few minutes, laughing to himself when Felix wobbles over to the bed and throws himself onto it. Felix whines loudly when Chris doesn’t join him right away, and then again when he realizes Chris is trying to speed clean the mess they left.

“I’m coming, I’m coming~” He giggles and hurriedly tosses their clothes into a combined pile out of the way before sliding under the sheets. “Anything hurt?” Chris’s fingers soothe Felix’s scalp and the younger of the two’s head bobs as he feels sleep pulling him. “Uh-uh” He doesn’t bother shaking his head and just melts into the warm embrace.

“Sleepy…”

“Go to sleep, Lixie. I’m not going anywhere, pinky promise.”

The morning after is colder than he expected. Chris wakes up to an empty bed, and the revelation makes his heart feel emptier than ever. He lifts his head briefly to scan the room, and then closes his eyes in relief when he sees Felix’s clothes still in a pile with his own clothes from last night’s events. Then, the sound of familiar laughter coming from elsewhere in the apartment immediately comforts him.

“Morning sleepyhead. Care to explain why Felix came out of your room last night, in clothes that are deeeefinitely not his?” The shit eating smile on their girlfriend's face makes his face flush, even more so when he realized that Felix kept quiet in order to let him decide what to tell them. ‘Not well behaved’ my ass. Just gotta fuck the brat out of you.

He clears his throat to hide a laugh and shakes his head. “Straight to the point. Can’t even let me have my morning coffee before I get interrogated?” She rolls her eyes at him but smiles and doesn’t press further. “I expect details later!” She places a kiss on his cheek and then runs off to the living room to join Hyunjin in watching some artsy YouTube video, allowing Chris and Felix to have some space to talk.

“Good morning, Lix.” He leans over the younger man and husks out into his ear teasingly, caging him in with his arms planted on either side of the counter. “Slept well?”

“Like a fucking baby…” Felix’s neck flushes and they both giggle quietly. “Good morning, though. Sorry I left you alone in bed, I heard them out here and got ‘FOMO.’”

Chris smiles and shakes his head, “It’s ok, I was a bit sad but I guess it’s best to not lay in bed all morning.” Chris makes his coffee immediately after he separates from Felix, using the coffee they had made before he woke up to do so. He notices Felix doesn’t leave him after that. Had he not known the boy for the last decade almost, he would have been confused as to why. But the nervous picking at his fingernails gives him away to his leader all too easily.

“Sit with me? What’s on your mind, Lix?” 

He makes a face of surprise before smiling and shaking his head knowingly. “Might sound dumb, but I just wanna know- Like… So what now?” His voice drops almost to a whisper as he finds the confidence to ask such a heavy question, and he’s happy when he does when Chris smiles sweetly and tilts his head.

“Now… You’re mine and I’m yours.” Felix smiles and bites his lips, playing around with his fingers in excitement.

“Mhm… What does this mean for everybody else then?”

“Whatever you want it to mean. Baby girl and Han will still love you the same as before- if anything the three of you might unite against me into some sort of fucking brat-brigade.” He rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his coffee, smiling into the cup when Felix bursts out laughing. 

“Oh… And since we’re on the topic of ‘everybody else’…” Chris clears his throat and cracks his neck to shake the bits of shyness he feels. “Last night when you said you hadn’t talked to any of the others ‘yet’… Is that something you want?”

Felix’s face flushes and he laughs nervously. “Yeah… I think so. I’m not sure who would want me like that, but I’d be open to all of them to be honest. I think Hannie feels the same, but I think we both know he has a favorite he would want the most.” Both men laugh and Chris scoots his chair closer to Felix.

Once he’s close enough, he slugs his arm around Felix’s shoulders and pulls the younger into him. “Let me help you then, yeah? Make your life a little easier.” Felix’s eyebrows widen and he snaps his head up to see a soft smile on Chan’s face followed by those thick lips pushing against his temple. “Whatever my babies want, my babies get.”

“...Even if that means conquering all of our friends in bed.”

Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)

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@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

@maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @paborachaslvt

@aeri-skzver

[elikajinnie]

You Are My Sunshine - K.S

P: Hufflepuff!Sunoo X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor Bullying? Fluff, Confessions, Minor Angst.

Synopsis: You were known as the grumpy, closed-off student at Hogwarts, keeping your emotions tightly guarded. That is, until Kim Sunoo, the ever-cheerful Hufflepuff, took it upon himself to brighten your days. With his infectious laughter and unwavering optimism seep into your life, you slowly realize that the warmth of his sunshine is quickly melting away your defenses.

a/n: sorry babes and pooks, this one is kinda short? exams are coming up and i only have a sliver of moment in the commute to and from school to write :) but hope everyone had a nice halloween! (anyone got an idea for Heeseungs slytherin fic?? Im brainstorming over here >:(

masterlist

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

You swore you were a nice person. It might not look like it, though—your face and demeanor often gave the opposite impression. You weren’t cold, but you had always been reserved, choosing to keep to yourself more often than not. Because of that, when you first arrived at Hogwarts, you didn’t exactly collect friends the way others seemed to. Only a select few ever got to see how friendly you actually were, but that was only after you decided you could trust them.

So, it came as a surprise—a big surprise—when one afternoon, while you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, deeply immersed in your studies, someone pulled out a chair and sat down right beside you.

Glancing up, you immediately recognized him. Kim Sunoo, the ever-smiling, ever-popular Hufflepuff. His presence was unmistakable, bright as day. His grin was practically beaming, and it momentarily threw you off balance. You blinked, wondering if he had the wrong table.

"Hey!" he greeted, voice light and full of energy. "Mind if I sit here?"

You stared at him blankly, unsure if he was serious or just passing by. He had already sat down, so you didn’t see much point in objecting. After a beat of silence, you returned your attention to the parchment in front of you, figuring the conversation might end there.

It didn’t.

"I’ve seen you around," he continued, undeterred by your lack of response. "You’re really focused when you’re working, huh? Must be nice to be that dedicated. I always get distracted in the library."

Your eyes flicked over to him, giving a small nod but saying nothing. You weren’t used to this—the friendliness so freely given, the casual conversation with someone you barely knew. Your face remained impassive, though inwardly, you were trying to piece together why he of all people was sitting with you. Surely, he had plenty of other, more sociable people to talk to.

Sunoo, however, didn’t seem to mind your quietness. In fact, he just kept going. "I’m terrible at Potions," he admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Professor Snape probably thinks I’m hopeless. I bet you’re good at it, though. You’ve got that… I dunno, that calm, focused vibe."

You couldn’t help but frown a little at that. "Calm, focused vibe?" you echoed, your tone flat.

He grinned even wider, his eyes almost disappearing into crescent moons. "Yeah! You just seem really composed all the time. It’s cool. I get stressed and panicky over every little thing."

"I wouldn’t say I’m always calm," you replied, voice as even as your expression.

Sunoo’s smile didn’t waver. If anything, he looked more pleased that you were finally talking. "See? Even when you’re denying it, you’re calm," he teased, clearly enjoying himself. "You’re like the opposite of me."

You stared at him for a moment, wondering how anyone could be so upbeat all the time. Sunoo’s energy was infectious, even if your face didn’t show it. Still, your brows furrowed slightly as you watched him speak, trying to make sense of why this popular Hufflepuff was suddenly so interested in chatting with you.

"I don’t usually talk much," you pointed out, your tone neutral.

"I noticed," Sunoo replied without missing a beat, completely unfazed. "But I think that’s fine. You don’t need to say a lot to be interesting."

You blinked again, your expression still not giving away the faint surprise you felt at his words. You had expected him to lose interest by now, to move on to someone who would match his energy and conversation style, but he stayed right where he was, grinning like he had just made the best discovery of the day.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there, him smiling, you with your usual stoic expression, and yet, for some reason, it didn’t feel awkward. It was as if Sunoo’s bright presence was enough to fill any potential silence.

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "Why are you talking to me?"

His laughter was soft, but genuine. "Why not? You seem interesting."

"I don’t really come across that way," you said, voice deadpan.

Sunoo shrugged, still smiling. "You do to me."

And with that, he leaned back in his chair, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to sit there, in complete contrast to your serious demeanor, radiating warmth and light like a small sun.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

During your next Potions class, you settled into your usual spot toward the back, where the dim light made it easier to focus without distractions. You liked this spot. It was quiet, and you could concentrate without anyone poking their nose into your work. But just as you began setting up your ingredients, you heard a familiar, cheerful voice.

"Mind if I join you?"

You glanced up, almost certain you had imagined it, only to find Kim Sunoo grinning down at you. His presence was the last thing you expected in this class. He was known for sitting up front, surrounded by his usual group, always cracking jokes and flashing that bright smile.

Sunoo slid into the seat beside you before you could respond, giving you an easy, friendly smile as he began organizing his ingredients. "I thought maybe if I sat by you, Professor Snape might be a little more… forgiving?" he whispered, his tone hopeful.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Why would he be?"

"Well," he said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a great secret, "he likes you. Haven't you noticed? He doesn’t scowl as much when you’re around. I figured maybe I could absorb some of your calm, composed energy," he added, making an exaggerated face of concentration as if he were already channeling your stoic look.

You couldn’t help but let a small, amused huff escape. “If that’s your plan, I wouldn’t count on it working.”

Sunoo smiled wider, undeterred. "Worth a shot, right?"

As if on cue, Snape swept into the classroom, his dark robes billowing behind him. His eyes scanned the room with that usual, critical glint before landing on you and Sunoo. He paused, visibly surprised to see the two of you sitting together, but instead of saying anything, he gave a curt nod and moved on, barking instructions for today’s lesson.

You gave Sunoo a sidelong glance as he visibly relaxed. “See? I think it’s working already,” he whispered, giving you a thumbs-up under the table. “He didn’t even glare!”

You rolled your eyes. "He didn't glare because he’s focused on starting class. Don't think you're off the hook."

Sunoo just shrugged, a bit of humor still glinting in his eyes. “I don’t mind. Besides, you’re probably good at Potions, right? You could even help me. Professor Snape can’t get mad if you’re the one teaching me, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. But sure… as long as you don’t blow anything up.”

Sunoo grinned again, nudging you playfully with his elbow. "Deal."

As the lesson began, you quickly noticed that Sunoo seemed determined to keep up, his usual playful energy tempered as he looked over his cauldron with an unexpected intensity. It was strange to see him so focused, but oddly gratifying, knowing he was genuinely trying.

"Okay," you whispered, leaning over to show him your carefully arranged ingredients. "For this Draught of Peace, every step has to be precise. Start by adding the powdered moonstone, but remember to stir counterclockwise three times after each pinch."

Sunoo glanced at you, his face serious as he nodded. "Three times, counterclockwise. Got it." He leaned forward, following your lead and adding the powder in controlled amounts. His usual talkative nature was nowhere to be seen, replaced by an almost endearing determination to get it right.

When he looked back at you for the next step, you raised an eyebrow, testing him. "What’s next, then?”

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "Uh, lacewing flies… right? Only one… no, two wings, torn lengthwise?"

"Not bad," you said, impressed. “See? You’re actually getting it."

He smiled sheepishly, keeping his eyes on his work as he carefully placed the ingredients in the cauldron. "Only because you’re explaining it in a way that makes sense," he admitted, glancing at you. "Potions books make it sound way too complicated."

You had to admit, seeing him genuinely engaged in learning something he found difficult felt surprisingly rewarding. “It’s only complicated if you rush,” you explained, “so take your time with this part. And make sure to add a clockwise stir after each wing.”

He mirrored your movements, handling each step as carefully as he could manage, clearly hanging onto each of your instructions. When he managed to mix everything without a hitch, he turned to you, his face beaming. “Look, it’s actually working. It’s not grey!”

You gave him an approving nod. “See? As long as you follow the instructions and stay focused, you’re fine.”

"Well, when you put it like that, it’s not so scary," he murmured, watching as the liquid turned a gentle blue.

"Now, simmer it for ten minutes," you said, leaning back in your chair. "And keep an eye on the bubbles—they should stay small and steady."

He sighed in relief, clearly grateful for the help. "You have no idea how much easier that makes things."

When you caught his eye, he grinned. "If I sit next to you every Potions class, you won’t mind, right?"

You paused at his question, thrown off by how quickly he’d asked it. Sunoo had a way of being open and friendly with everyone, but this… well, this felt different. You weren’t sure what he was really after, and his sudden interest in sitting with you felt almost too friendly.

So, you just shrugged, keeping your face neutral. “If you want to,” you replied, glancing back at your own cauldron.

Sunoo watched you for a moment, seeming to notice your hesitation. But instead of getting discouraged, he just gave a small laugh, scratching the back of his head. “You don’t mind, right? I mean… you’re not gonna hex me or anything?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but his teasing smirk showed he was only joking. “No,” you said, “Not unless you mess up the potion.”

He chuckled, apparently finding your reaction funny. "Alright, noted," he replied, nudging his cauldron carefully as he checked the simmering liquid. “Guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior then.”

For the rest of class, he kept close by your side, following each instruction you gave him with an unusual attentiveness. He even managed to complete the potion almost perfectly. When Snape passed by, he raised an eyebrow at Sunoo’s work but said nothing, which was the highest praise he could give.

As you cleaned up at the end of class, Sunoo packed his things slowly, glancing over at you. “Thanks for the help,” he said, smiling warmly. “Not sure I could’ve done that without you.”

You simply nodded, unsure of what to say, but he seemed content with the small gesture. As he turned to leave, he glanced back one more time. “See you next class?”

“Yeah… sure,” you replied, giving a half-shrug.

As he left, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. Sunoo’s interest in sitting with you still felt unexpected.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

Days turned into weeks, and Sunoo became a near-constant presence by your side. Whether it was Potions, lunch in the Great Hall, or even the occasional study session in the library, he always seemed to find his way over to you, plopping down with that familiar grin and easy energy that contrasted so starkly with your laid-back demeanor.

At first, you thought maybe he’d get bored, or that your lack of enthusiasm might wear him down. But Sunoo was nothing if not persistent. No matter how often you shrugged at his questions or gave him short, deadpan responses, he just laughed it off, acting as though he’d known you forever. And even though you never rejected his company outright, you never really encouraged it either. Not that Sunoo seemed to care.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, a familiar routine now: books spread out, your head bent over an assignment you were half-heartedly working on. The sound of footsteps made you glance up, and sure enough, there he was—Sunoo, grinning, holding two mugs of butterbeer from the kitchens.

“Thought you could use one,” he said, sliding it across the table to you.

You gave a halfhearted sigh, accepting it anyway. “You know, you don’t have to keep showing up like this. Don’t you have other friends?”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Sure, but I like hanging out with you. Plus, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to, you know?”

“Is that right,” you said, taking a sip of the butterbeer, trying to keep your face neutral. “And here I thought I was terrible company.”

“Hardly,” he replied with a grin, leaning in like he was letting you in on a secret. “I think you’re interesting, even if you act like you don’t care. And… I think you like my company, too.”

You huffed, looking away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He laughed, “Alright, alright. I’ll leave it at that. But you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

You hid a smile behind your hand, feeling an unexpected warmth from his words.

As days passed, Sunoo continued to be your constant shadow, sticking to you like he belonged there. Whenever he leaned in close to explain something exciting or nudged your shoulder to get your attention, you didn’t push him away. Not even a grumble. And soon enough, people began to notice—whispers trailing behind the two of you whenever you entered a room together.

"Are they really that close now?" someone muttered one afternoon in the library, eyeing the way Sunoo leaned over to show you a funny illustration in his book.

"They’re, like… polar opposites," another whispered, watching you with open curiosity, clearly baffled at how you, the reserved one with a permanent poker face, had Sunoo—the endlessly friendly, sunny Hufflepuff—so close.

The attention might have bothered you once, but Sunoo’s influence seemed to have rubbed off on you. You were a little more relaxed, even when people stared or asked questions. Sunoo’s laughter or his quick jokes were enough to break the awkwardness you might’ve once felt, and strangely enough, you’d even found yourself talking to more people—not necessarily by choice, but because he kept introducing you to others.

One evening, you were sitting in the library with one of your closer friends. They’d known you for years and were one of the few who really understood you. As Sunoo wandered over to grab a book from the shelves nearby, your friend leaned in with a small smile.

“You know, it’s funny,” they said quietly, eyeing you with amusement. “You and Sunoo… you balance each other out. Like, he brings you out of your comfort zone with all these people and conversations, and you, well… you help him calm down and focus more.”

You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. “Sunoo? Focused?”

Your friend chuckled. “More than you’d think. Have you noticed how much more serious he’s been in Potions lately? And he actually sits through an entire library study session without talking your ear off.”

You shrugged, not wanting to admit just how true it was. “Maybe he’s just getting better at Potions.”

“Sure,” they replied, giving you a knowing look. “And maybe you’re just getting more social.”

You huffed, looking away to hide a small, reluctant smile. It was true that Sunoo had brought a new energy to your life, and whether you liked it or not, you’d changed a little since he’d attached himself to you. You actually found yourself looking forward to his presence. He made things… lighter.

Just then, Sunoo bounded over, oblivious to the conversation you’d been having. He plopped down beside you, smiling as usual. “Hey! Did you know they added a new dessert in the kitchens? We have to go try it later!”

Your friend shot you a look, clearly delighted by the way you barely rolled your eyes before nodding. “Fine,” you replied. “But you’re bringing it back here. I’m not going all the way to the kitchens.”

Sunoo’s smile only grew. “Deal. You’re finally starting to admit you like spending time with me, huh?”

You scoffed, looking away to hide the faint warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Don’t push it.”

But the truth was undeniable, and both your friend and Sunoo could see it: somehow, the two of you had found a balance.

It didn’t take long for you to realize just how well Sunoo had come to understand you. He could somehow sense when your patience was wearing thin, when you’d been around people for too long and needed to be left alone. Whenever he picked up on your waning energy, he would offer you a small, knowing smile, give you a light squeeze on the shoulder, and let you be. No questions asked, no lingering around to wait you out—he just knew.

And maybe, in some way, you’d learned to pick up on his cues, too. Sunoo, who was normally all bright smiles and endless chatter, had quiet days—moments when his laughter would be softer, his eyes a little distant, his usual warmth feeling dimmed. At first, you didn’t know what to make of it, but eventually, you realized what he needed. So, whenever he’d get that faraway look, you’d make an extra effort to bring a bit of lightness back into his world.

Like the time you found him sitting by the lake, lost in thought as he absently trailed his fingers through the water. Without a word, you’d sat beside him and started retelling one of Snape’s more ridiculous lectures with a deadpan voice, mimicking Snape’s mannerisms in a way that finally drew a soft, genuine laugh from Sunoo.

“You’re pretty funny when you want to be,” he had said, nudging your shoulder as his smile returned.

“Just don’t get used to it,” you replied, but you couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping onto your face.

And it did go both ways. Sometimes you’d notice his plate looking a little too empty at dinner, and without a word, you’d sneak extra food onto it, nudging it his way until he ate. On the mornings he’d wander into class looking groggy and starving from skipping breakfast, you’d casually slide a piece of toast or a muffin over to him without drawing any attention, not even acknowledging it as he glanced at you in surprise, a grateful look in his eyes.

Once, he’d shown up in the library just before lunch, clearly worn down from a long morning of classes. His face lit up as he saw you, but before he could say anything, you pulled a sandwich from your bag and held it out to him, rolling your eyes as he grinned.

“Eat,” you ordered, trying not to smile at the way he accepted it.

“You’re seriously the best,” he said between bites, eyes shining with gratitude.

You shrugged, not making a big deal of it. “Just don’t skip meals.”

As much as Sunoo’s constant presence had once felt overwhelming, you couldn’t deny how natural it had become. He was someone you didn’t mind looking after, just as he looked after you in his own way. And even though you still hadn’t outright admitted how much he’d come to mean to you, you knew he could feel it.

After all, Sunoo seemed to understand you better than you’d ever expected.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

On a Thursday, right as you and Sunoo were walking down the hall from Potions, laughing quietly about some ridiculous mistake he’d made when a group of students passed by, whispering just loud enough for you to hear.

“Can’t believe those two are always together,” one of them sneered, glancing your way. “I don’t get what Sunoo sees in someone so… cold.”

“Yeah, must be a pity friendship,” another scoffed. “Who’d actually choose to hang around someone like that?”

The words hit you harder than you’d like to admit. You clenched your fists, feeling your cheeks grow hot with anger. Before you knew it, you were turning toward them, words already forming on your tongue.

But then, you felt a soft tug on your arm—Sunoo, pulling you back. His expression was a mix of concern and pleading, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“Don’t,” he whispered urgently, shaking his head. “They’re not worth it. Just… let it go, okay?”

But their words kept echoing in your mind, growing louder, and something about the way they’d insulted not only you but Sunoo too, made your blood boil. You could see how Sunoo was trying to brush it off, but the hurt flashed briefly in his eyes, even if he was trying to hide it.

“No,” you said firmly, ignoring his hold as you spun back around, voice sharp as you yelled after them. “Got something to say? How about you say it to our faces instead of acting like cowards?”

The group turned, surprised by your outburst, and you could see them tense, unprepared for confrontation. They exchanged uneasy looks before one of them, bolder than the others, sneered. “We’re just saying what everyone else is thinking.”

“Then let me make one thing clear,” you shot back, holding their gaze with an intensity that made them falter. “Sunoo is a hundred times the person any of you will ever be. So maybe you’re the ones who should keep quiet.”

They shifted, looking caught off guard. When they finally muttered a weak insult under their breath and walked off, you turned back to Sunoo, your anger still simmering.

Sunoo was watching you, eyes wide, a mixture of shock and something else—something soft and grateful—shining in his expression. He let out a breath, chuckling as he shook his head. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

You shrugged, still fuming, but now a little embarrassed at how strongly you’d reacted. “They don’t get to talk about us like that.”

Sunoo’s smile widened, and he squeezed your hand, which you’d forgotten he was still holding, looking at you with a warmth that seemed to melt away the remnants of your anger.

The hallway felt strangely empty around you, and though you didn’t say anything, the look you gave him said everything you couldn’t put into words.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

You and Sunoo became a regular sight around Hogwarts: you, with your usual deadpan expression and arms crossed, and Sunoo practically glowing with happiness beside you. Wherever he went, you seemed to follow, trailing a few paces behind with that ever-present poker face, while he chatted, laughed, and animatedly waved to anyone who passed.

There were days when Sunoo would drag you into random "adventures" across the castle, whether it was sneaking into the kitchens to grab snacks or daring you to climb one of the tall staircases to see if you could spot your common room window.

Like that time he convinced you to join him on an impromptu “mission” to see if the Fat Friar really could pass through walls from the sixth-floor corridor to the third-floor hallway. Somehow, he managed to get you to run after the ghost with him, dodging curious glances from students and teachers alike. Sunoo had laughed himself silly when you reached the third floor out of breath, pointing out the tiny, genuine grin that slipped onto your face as he panted beside you.

"Look, they’re smiling!" someone had gasped, and Sunoo turned with a proud grin, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “See? You just needed a little fun.”

You promptly rolled your eyes, but you didn't shrug him off. “I don’t know if chasing ghosts counts as fun,” you muttered, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you with the smallest smirk.

Then, there was the time Sunoo found out you’d never tried a Sugar Quill and insisted on “fixing this tragedy.” He dragged you down to Hogsmeade, where he bought you not one but two Sugar Quills, then made a show of pulling a face as he pretended to judge your expression with every lick. Even though you mostly kept your deadpan look, he saw right through you, laughing as you admitted they were “better than expected.”

“Wait, was that a compliment?” he teased, eyes wide in mock surprise.

You rolled your eyes, biting the end of the quill. “Don’t get used to it.”

But the most notable reactions always came during the quieter moments—the times Sunoo would ramble on about something, and you’d listen quietly, only to get caught off-guard by his laugh or one of his jokes, and let a smile slip. Whenever someone noticed, they’d gape in shock, like they’d just seen something truly unbelievable.

Like when you two were sitting by the Black Lake, and Sunoo was telling some ridiculous story about how he once tried to turn the Great Hall’s chandelier into a disco ball for a party idea (though, predictably, he’d been caught). You tried to hold it in, but a soft chuckle slipped out anyway. One nearby student stared so openly that Sunoo caught it too, and immediately grinned, elbowing you.

“See? People can’t believe their eyes. They probably think you’re a statue brought to life,” he teased, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

You gave him a flat look, but the tiny smile wouldn’t leave your face. “Maybe it’s you who’s bringing me to life,” you replied dryly, just to see him blush.

The two of you were a study in contrasts—your stoic, steady presence beside Sunoo’s unstoppable, bubbly energy. But somehow, people started catching those small, fleeting moments when you softened around him, when he made you smile in spite of yourself. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you liked that he was the one who could bring that out in you.

Life with Sunoo by your side continued to be an endless series of unexpected twists, each one gradually chipping away at your grumpy exterior. He had this strange ability to draw out parts of you that you’d long kept hidden, surprising even yourself in the process. And, somehow, you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

One afternoon, Sunoo decided it was "absolutely necessary" to take you to the Owlery to see a particular baby owl he’d become fond of. “You’ll love it, I swear,” he insisted, dragging you up the steps. And despite your half-hearted grumbles about climbing “unnecessary stairs,” you found yourself actually smiling when the little owl pecked his hand affectionately. When Sunoo turned and caught the tiny smile on your face, he gasped dramatically.

“Stop the press!” he said loudly enough to echo through the Owlery. “They do have a heart!”

“Careful, or I’ll stop coming along to your ridiculous little outings,” you muttered, though the hint of amusement in your voice was hard to ignore.

“Oh, please,” Sunoo scoffed, looping an arm through yours as you both made your way back down. “You love every second of my company.”

You didn’t answer, but your silence was all the confirmation he needed.

Another time, during a Transfiguration lesson, you found yourself paired with Sunoo for a particularly tricky assignment. Sunoo, naturally, was struggling to concentrate, his wand movements lazy and absent-minded as he kept nudging you with random observations. “Did you know Professor McGonagall has a favorite cat?” he whispered, eyes wide.

“Focus,” you deadpanned, though the corners of your mouth twitched as you tried to stifle a smile.

Seeing your reaction, he grinned, adjusting his stance and mirroring your serious expression in an exaggerated way. “Like this?” he asked, mimicking your look perfectly.

You couldn’t hold it in this time—a small, genuine laugh escaped you, shocking the students around you. Even McGonagall raised an eyebrow, glancing over her spectacles. “Good to see you finding joy in Transfiguration, for once,” she said with a rare smile.

When class ended, Sunoo was practically beaming. “See? I’m finally getting you to open up,” he said, walking beside you with that familiar, almost blinding smile.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warned, but he only laughed, knowing you didn’t really mean it.

And every now and then, you’d catch students around the castle gawking when Sunoo would lean in close, pointing out something funny on a page or whispering a joke that would make your stone-cold demeanor soften for just a second. They couldn’t believe it, seeing you actually smiling or laughing in response to his antics.

One evening in the library, you were finishing up some homework while Sunoo sat beside you, absently doodling on parchment. He glanced over at you, tapping his quill on the desk.

“So,” he started, a little softer this time, “when did I officially become your friend?”

You didn’t look up, but your lips tugged upward slightly. “Guess it was the day you decided not to leave me alone,” you replied.

Sunoo grinned, leaning his head against your shoulder with a sigh. “Good thing I’m stubborn.”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t move away, either. In fact, the small smile you wore spoke more than words ever could.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

One quiet afternoon, you and Sunoo found yourselves sitting by the Black Lake. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the water, and for once, there were no interruptions, no curious glances from other students. It was just the two of you, enjoying the peace and each other's company.

Sunoo had been unusually silent for a while, lost in thought as he skipped stones across the lake. Finally, he turned to you, his expression more serious than usual. “Hey,” he began softly, “can I ask you something?”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, what’s up?”

He hesitated, biting his lip before speaking again. “Why don’t you smile much around people? I mean, you smile a lot when it’s just us, but with others… it’s like you shut down.”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. You stared out at the water, watching the ripples dance across the surface as you gathered your thoughts. Finally, you sighed, deciding to share a piece of your past that you rarely talked about.

“It’s not that I don’t want to smile,” you began slowly, choosing your words carefully. “I thought I had people I could rely on,” you continued, still keeping your gaze down, staring at the grass as though it held all the answers. “But things changed. They either weren’t there when I needed them most, or…” You trailed off, not quite able to voice the ways people had let you down. “It’s like they didn’t care as much as I thought they did. I felt stupid for ever trusting them.”

Your voice was barely a whisper by the end, but you forced yourself to keep going, feeling the weight of your words start to lighten as you let them out. “After that, I just… learned to be careful. I figured if I didn’t let people in, they couldn’t hurt me. So I stopped smiling so much. I thought maybe if I looked… unapproachable, people would keep their distance. And for the most part, they did.”

Sunoo gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said quietly, his voice laced with genuine empathy. “People can be selfish, and sometimes they don’t realize how their actions affect others. But I hope you know not everyone is like that.”

A lump formed in your throat at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. “I know,” you replied, though your voice shook slightly. “It’s just hard to remember that sometimes. I didn’t want to risk getting hurt again, so… shutting people out seemed like the safest option.”

Sunoo shifted a little closer, his warmth a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone. “You know,” he began, voice gentle, “I had my own fair share of people who weren’t exactly the best, too. It hurt, and yeah, I thought about closing myself off sometimes. But then I thought, what if I missed out on someone who really could be a good friend?”

You looked over at him, catching the soft vulnerability in his eyes. “I guess that’s why you’re so… friendly,” you said, almost teasing but more thoughtful than anything. “You don’t want to miss out on the good people out there.”

He smiled, nodding. “Exactly. And… I knew you were different, you know. Even if you didn’t smile much, even if you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else than around people, I could just tell. That there was more to you. And look,” he added with a grin, “I was right.”

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it, a genuine one, and you shook your head at his optimism. “Guess you were,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you putting up with me, though.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “I knew there was something worth sticking around for. Even if you tried to hide it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you couldn’t help but feel a small surge of warmth. Sunoo hadn’t just pushed past your walls; he’d done it so gently, with such patience, that you hardly realized when you’d stopped trying to keep him out.

“Thanks for… sticking around,” you said, voice quiet, the sincerity in your words a stark contrast to your usual deadpan tone.

“Anytime,” he replied, a soft smile playing at his lips as he looked out at the lake. Then, after a beat, he added, “Besides, I like having someone around who gets me. You know how I can get lost in my own thoughts sometimes. You’re always there to pull me back.”

You both shared a comfortable silence, the kind you could only have with someone who truly understood you. After a while, you finally spoke again. “I guess I kind of forgot how nice it feels to let someone in.”

Sunoo nodded, a content smile on his face. “I’m glad you trusted me with that,” he said softly. “And… I hope you know I’ll never do anything to hurt you. Promise.”

You turned to him, meeting his gaze, and for once, you let down every wall and allowed yourself to believe him. “I believe you.”

He grinned, looking both relieved and happy. “Good. Because I plan on being around for a long time, whether you like it or not.”

Rolling your eyes, you felt the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips once again. But this time, you didn’t fight it. “Guess I don’t really have a choice, huh?”

“Nope,” he replied cheerfully, leaning his head against your shoulder with a sigh. “I’m a very stubborn person, you know.”

Sunoo’s smile was soft and reassuring, his eyes shining.“I promise, I’ll never do anything to hurt you. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, a genuine smile breaking through your usual guarded expression. “I guess I can live with that.”

Sunoo grinned, leaning in a bit closer. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment it happened, the gradual shift from seeing Sunoo as just that kind, bubbly Hufflepuff who wouldn’t leave you alone, to… this. Somewhere in the days spent with him at your side, with his laugh brightening even your most tired moments, Sunoo had become more than just a friend.

It hit you unexpectedly one day, as you leaned against a stone wall in the courtyard, watching from afar while he chatted with a group of other students. He was laughing, the sound rich and clear as he threw his head back, eyes crinkling in a way that made him look almost ethereal. His presence lit up the entire courtyard, as if he were some rare creature, something precious that didn’t quite belong to the harshness of the real world.

For a second, you wondered how someone like him—so pure, so effortlessly kind and happy—had come to talk to you, much less stick around. And as the thought lingered, you felt an ache in your chest you hadn’t expected. Because no matter how close you’d gotten, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sunoo was somehow beyond your reach.

He caught sight of you then, his gaze shifting from the others to land directly on you, and his face lit up even more, a broad grin spreading across his features. You blinked, feeling warmth bloom inside you as he broke away from the group, jogging over to where you stood.

“You just standing there, brooding?” he teased, his eyes glinting with playful mischief as he nudged your shoulder.

You huffed, trying to shake off the thought that had just been consuming you. “Maybe. Someone’s gotta keep the aesthetic,” you muttered, lips curling in a faint smirk.

But as he laughed, the sound tugging at something deep inside you, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever see you the way you were beginning to see him. If he’d ever feel that same tug of warmth and longing when he looked at you.

“What?” Sunoo asked, tilting his head when he noticed you staring.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, looking away to hide the hint of pink creeping up your cheeks.

The days turned into weeks, and while Sunoo’s cheerful presence continued to brighten your life, you found yourself slipping back into familiar habits. Each time you spotted him surrounded by large groups of people, laughing and joking with ease, an unsettling fear began to take root in your chest. You pulled away, convinced that you would inevitably reveal too much—your feelings for him slipping through the cracks, leaving you vulnerable in front of everyone.

It wasn’t that you wanted to distance yourself from Sunoo; rather, it was the overwhelming dread of accidentally exposing your heart that made you withdraw. You’d sit on the sidelines, pretending to be absorbed in your own conversations or buried in a book, watching him from afar with a mix of longing and anxiety. Each time he glanced your way, a bolt of panic shot through you, and you’d quickly look away, heart racing at the thought of what he might see in your eyes.

You told yourself it was fine, that you needed space—that it was safer to watch him from afar, to keep things simple and keep your feelings hidden.

But that was easier said than done. Every time he’d glance over with that bright, hopeful smile, a pang of guilt and longing would settle in your chest. You’d nod in acknowledgment, force a small wave, and then slip away, heart hammering as you went.

And of course, Sunoo noticed.

One evening, when you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, a familiar figure appeared beside you. Sunoo slid into the seat, watching you with a curious, slightly hurt expression. "You’re avoiding me," he said softly, cutting right to the point.

You didn’t look up, keeping your focus on the parchment in front of you, hoping he wouldn’t press. “No, I’m just… busy. Lots of work,” you mumbled, hoping that would satisfy him.

“Really?” he asked, his voice edged with disbelief. “Because you used to tell me when things were bothering you. Now, it’s like… like I don’t even know what’s going on with you.” His tone was tinged with hurt, and you felt it like a weight in your chest.

“I’m fine, Sunoo. Really,” you replied with a weak shrug, not daring to meet his eyes. You knew if you did, he’d see right through you.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t do that,” he pleaded, his voice wavering. “Don’t push me away. I thought… I thought we’d built something together, you know? Something real. I want to be there for you, but you have to let me in.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart pound painfully. “It’s just… it’s complicated.”

He leaned closer, his voice filled with an unfamiliar urgency. “Then let me in on the ‘complicated.’ I don’t want you to hide from me. Please, talk to me.”

You clenched your jaw, still not meeting his gaze. You could feel his intensity, his genuine care, and it tore you up inside. “Sunoo, just… drop it,” you said, voice quieter than you intended.

But he didn’t drop it. “Why won’t you just be real with me?” he nearly begged, his tone raw and vulnerable. “I hate seeing you shut yourself off like this. I hate that you’re just… disappearing. It’s like I’m losing you, and I don’t understand why. I thought we were closer than this.”

A pang of frustration bubbled up. He didn’t understand because you’d kept him in the dark, because you were afraid he’d never feel the same way. You had no right to be upset, but it hurt too much to bear alone any longer.

“Because, Sunoo!” you said, your voice rising. “Because I… I have feelings for you, alright?”

As soon as the words were out, your hand flew to your mouth in shock, eyes widening at what you’d just revealed. You stared at him, feeling a mixture of panic and regret swell up as the weight of what you’d just said settled between you.

You half-expected to see shock or pity on his face, but instead, Sunoo’s expression softened. Slowly, a smile spread across his lips, one of genuine happiness and warmth, lighting up his entire face.

“Do you… do you really feel that way?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper as if he didn’t quite believe his own ears.

Face burning, you nodded, too afraid to meet his eyes but not wanting to take the words back. “Yeah. I do,” you replied, voice quiet, feeling both relieved and terrified.

Without another word, Sunoo’s hands reached for yours, pulling you close. He looked at you with a joy that you hadn’t seen in him before, his eyes practically glowing. “I’ve liked you for so long,” he admitted softly, almost shyly. “You’re everything I wanted but thought I’d never have.”

You blinked, your breath catching as his words sank in. “Really?”

He nodded, grinning even wider as he held your gaze. “Yes. So… don’t pull away from me, okay? I want to be there with you, through everything.”

Still in shock, you finally let yourself breathe. Then, with a shaky smile, you whispered, “Okay.”

Sunoo’s face lit up, and he pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as if he’d never let go. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself relax, feeling the weight of your guarded heart ease as you leaned into him.

Sunoo’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of excitement and hesitation. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked softly.

You didn’t need to think twice. Instead of answering verbally, you leaned in closer, closing the distance between you until your lips met his. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle brush of warmth and sweetness, but it quickly deepened as Sunoo responded, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck, cradling you closer.

Every nerve in your body tingled as you kissed him back, the sensation blooming inside you like fireworks. It felt right, like a missing piece finally falling into place. Sunoo’s lips were soft against yours, and the world melted away—there was no noise, no crowd, just the two of you.

As he deepened the kiss, you felt yourself melt against him, your worries and fears dissipating like morning mist in the sunlight. Sunoo pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathless and a little stunned.

“Wow,” he breathed, his eyes sparkling with delight. “That was… amazing.”

You chuckled softly, still feeling a rush of warmth and happiness coursing through you. “Yeah, it really was.”

“Can we do that again?” he asked, a playful glint in his eye, and you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Definitely,” you replied, heart racing with a mix of excitement and newfound affection.

With a grin, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his, and you both fell into the rhythm of each other’s movements, the kiss growing more confident this time. It was a sweet, tender connection that spoke of the trust and understanding you’d built, a promise of what was to come.

As you pulled away again, your cheeks flushed, you couldn’t help but laugh at how easy it felt, how natural. “I can’t believe we waited this long,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, right?” Sunoo replied, still beaming. “But I’m glad we finally did.” He paused, a seriousness creeping into his expression. “I really like you, you know. I’ve wanted to say it for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and you smiled softly. “You didn’t scare me off, Sunoo. If anything, you made me realize how much I needed you in my life.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy. “Then let’s keep making these memories, yeah? I want to know everything about you. All the good stuff and the not-so-good stuff. I want to be the one you trust.”

“Deal,” you replied, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. “And I’ll try to be more open, I promise.”

“Good,” he said, and with a playful nudge, he added, “And maybe I’ll even get you to smile more often.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that broke through. “Maybe. But only if you keep being so ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is my specialty,” he laughed, and as the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this new chapter in your life—a chapter filled with laughter, trust, and the thrill of discovering each other.

[febster]

Im back for another fic! Its been like a year ive written a fic and this time its on hsr mainly focusing on our dragon boy dan heng:P This is just a one-sided fic in a way, more focused on Dan Heng's side in a way??? This may be a bit ooc too for some;; but i hope ya'll still like it

requests are open^^~!

Instinct

-a look at dan heng's actions when it comes to his new dragonic traits and perhaps a little crush to their new member in the express

(gender neutral y/n!)

(y/n is an entirely different character from the MC of hsr!)

~

"…" Blankly staring at the top of his room, unable to sleep, he felt restless after what had happened during the past few weeks. Time passed by a bit fast for him to handle after accepting his past, especially being a Vidyadhara which was almost life-changing for him—many things needed adjustment and the feelings that come in life for being a Vidyadhara were just something he didn't expect to have. He could faintly recall the number of times he had acted out of character when he was with his family, he let out a groan in response when he had accidentally popped out his fangs when he had yawned out loud near the Astral Family.

He sits up abruptly, touching his mouth as if to feel his fangs, faintly recalling the expression of a certain crew member. 

__ “Woah…” Y/N's expression was in awe, as if they had seen a making of art right in front of them.

__ He could feel the blood rushing to his face, his skin prickling with the sudden heat of embarrassment. It was just one word but why did it make him feel so differently than he normally would? His embarrassment from memories didn't help ease this restless feeling he had. He glanced at his bed, bothered by how that once familiar comfort of his bed was now unsettling. Giving him a feeling to do something but he does not know what.

Frustrated, he lets out a low growl, escaping his lips, and staring at the floor. He couldn't just shake the feeling that something was off and wrong, he couldn't even understand this sudden discomfort that he was feeling, it was this urge gnawing at him as if to tell him that he should do something. Abruptly, he pushed his blanket off him, with a resigned sigh, he slides off the mattress, the room slowly filled with the cloth rustling and the sound of water beneath him.

He is rashly moving based on instinct, he does not even know what he is really doing but he follows. He rearranges his pillows and blanket, he even got some more from the Express storage closet, now all thrown haphazardly on the mattress.

It didn't take long for him to stop and just see the mess, "What am I even doing" Dan Heng sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair. But there was no answer, only this pesky feeling of an urge that he needed to do this.

With a huff, he began to rearrange his bed, he spread the blankets and pillows out, creating a nest-like structure. Following his instincts, he played around with the pillows. pushed them around the edges like a fort. It felt strange to say the least, especially on why on earth he is even doing this. 

But he was satisfied, he even brought little trinkets from their adventures and placed them close to his makeshift nest, placed in a safe position. Stepping back, he looked at the nest he had made, it was just odd why he had done this but at such sight, he found himself preening at his work.

Dan Heng hesitated for a moment, with a deep breath, he climbed into the center of the nest, he was careful as if not wanting to disrupt the space. Settling into the warmth, he finds himself curling up finding it comforting despite being prepared suddenly. A contented purr escaped his lips, now closing his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

But...

He felt something different again, this new feeling as if there was still lacking within his nest. Despite it gave him a sense of security and comfort, it still felt lacking. Raising his head, he glanced at the empty spot beside him.

?

Huh, he had believed that he made it enough just for him to rest on so why is there an extra space? Dan Heng pondered wanting to know the reason for it, but as he let his thoughts wander, it shifted to the thought of Y/N.

!

Taken aback by his thoughts, he snaps back to reality. Why did he start to think about Y/N? But oddly, he didn't reject the thought of Y/N being there beside him, it was comforting for its thought. He was flustered at such things, that he reprimanded himself. For a person like Y/N, there must be somewhere out there within those planets who already have their heart.

Ignoring the pain in his heart, he forced himself to curl up back to his nest, a frown on his face as he tried to focus on something else.