#i just need things to stop for a couple weeks so i can gather my thoughts and stabilize my brain

[randomfoggytiger]

So, ehat was your take of the podcast of these two old friends? I thought it was lovely and different than his other podcasts. She gets him to relax.

Now, what about the recreation of the picture they said they would do?:) I think they might have talked about the picture but not when the photoshoot would happen. Xmas is around the corner. Come on guys, give the Fandom a merry David-Gillian gift of all time! It's been a dry spell without your loving craziness. Hike up those stockings on your little legs, G, and hop onto those DD shoulders.

It'd be funny if they did, wouldn't it? It'd also be funny if they recreated it in a way that wouldn't hurt either of their backs, shoulders, or knees, too. XDDD

I had an excellent time with the podcast! It confirmed every single one of my suspicions, theories, and guestimations of their friendship: their personalities, their focuses, their dynamic then, their dynamic now, etc. It was refreshing. It was, for lack of a better word, simple: the facts were the facts were the facts, and there wasn't anything big or grand to be made of their interactions, past or present.

I liked hearing them talk over each other. I liked that both admitted to already butting heads in Season 1. I liked that both admitted they'd never thought to trade childhood stories, or cross their personal lives over.

Most of all, I loved their candor: David admitting he felt dumped in the Revival, and that Gillian didn't know and felt sorry in retrospect. That Gillian didn't feel dumped during the first run. That Gillian thought the Revival's story line reduced her character, especially the ending. That David felt trapped and villainized over the pay gap issue; and only later learned his pay wasn't due to his merit so much as internal favoritism. That Gillian now understands and feels for his pain. That David still feels the sting of Vancouver hating him and being forced out of rehab anonymity, and all the pain he gathered from both incidences. That Gillian admitted she doesn't process shame, just stays too busy to have to face it. That David felt comfortable to say that was unhealthy, and that she felt comfortable enough to hum in agreement. That both know their children have to fail, because they would fail their own children if they stopped those failures. That David tried to drill into his son that he's a miserable person and nothing is as it seems; but that that perspective hadn't worked. That Gillian feels motherhood is the most fulfilling thing for her, yet chooses her work over and over (again, staying too busy to feel shame.) That DD knew as early as Season 1 that Chris intended for Mulder and Scully to be an end goal-- asking CC if he wanted to send GA and himself to couples' counseling as their characters. That GA forgot and laughed over the memory. That Gillian arrived late after he offered her a ride on his private aircraft; then wrote him a beautiful letter, on the plane, instead of saying those words in person. That he marveled she hadn't gone insane from the pressure. That she no longer feels the need to run from Scully's legacy. That both admitted that communication, though important, was non-existent during that time in their lives.

There are so many good bits. But I have two takeaways:

They have the same frenetic drive, the same "crazy" as David calls it; but I can see why it drove a wedge between them (and could, now): they wouldn't be able to tolerate that same freneticism in each other in large doses. (Hence, why they didn't speak for weeks while on set, and were already exchanging "blows" in Season 1.)

Most importantly, they were two old friends who purposefully dug in and rediscovered new things about each other. The camaraderie was different: settled, more "in-character" to how I think they talk when David doesn't feel like he has to perform (though there was a bit of that) and Gillian doesn't feel uneasy, or anxious, or "watched."

In short: they felt wholly the same, but in a new way. :DDDDD

[kebriones]

Every day i have a crisis and i change my entire thesis direction.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.

He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.

"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.

Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.

"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.

"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,

"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.

"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.

"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.

"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.

"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.

His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.

"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.

"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.

But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.

"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.

"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.

Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.

He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.

Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.

It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.

"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.

He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.

"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.

"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.

"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.

"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.

Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.

"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.

"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.

"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.

"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.

"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.

"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.

"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.

"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.

Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.

Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.

Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.

Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.

He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.

"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.

Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.

"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.

"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.

"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.

"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.

"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.

"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.

He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.

It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.

"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.

"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.

"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.

"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.

He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.

Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.

"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.

"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.

"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.

"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.

"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.

"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.

Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.

Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.

Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.

Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

[babyleostuff]

let me go | choi seungcheol

author’s note | tbh i had such a hard time writing for him BECAUSE I MISS MY DARLING CHEOL and i can’t stand the thought of him being in painnnn. i want him to be happy and healthy and i want him to be back with the boys, i hate it hereeee

“Stop moving so much,” Seungcheol whined, his words coming out slurred due to his cheek being pressed against your stomach. 

“But I really need to go to the bathroom, Cheol,” you sighed, looking down at the blond mess that was crushing your tummy. 

Ever since your boyfriend got the surgery done, he was even clingier than he used to be. Not that you could blame him, he spent most of his days alone in bed, so naturally his clingy side would shine through and he’d do everything he could to keep you in bed longer. 

You saw how a couple of times he scrolled through the group chat and looked at the pictures the members sent with envy. He’d do anything to be able to get up from that damn bed and join them in the practice room. 

“Darling, you really need to let me go,” you said. 

His fluffy hair bounced as he shook his head and wrapped his second arm around your waist, to make sure that you wouldn’t slip away. Not like that was possible, he could tackle you with ease, even with a torn ACL. 

You sighed, not knowing what to do. If you could, you’d gladly spend the whole day with him, but the both of you knew you had your own responsibilities and you couldn't just abandon everything for the next months just to stay with him (no matter how much you wanted to do that). 

“Choi Seungcheol, let me go,” you said, trying to wriggle out of his grip. 

“Don’t call me that,” he whined once again, nuzzling his head further into your stomach. 

“Then let me go.” 

“No. You'll just leave then,” he said, but loosened his grip on you. He lifted his head to look at you and he couldn’t have looked more adorable. 

A well- known pout adorned his face, while his hair was a big mess and cheeks were rosy from sleep. Even though he looked like that everytime he woke up, an unusual hint of sadness was prominent in his eyes. 

You put your palm against his cheek, leaning in to place a kiss on his exposed forehead. 

That’s how he wanted to stay for the whole day - in your arms, enveloped by love and comfort, the only thing that made him forget about his knee and the pain he was experiencing. 

“I have to go, Cheol,” you said, pecking his forehead once again. “But I’ll come back in a couple of hours. I always do, you know that,” you put a finger under his chin to lift his head up to your level. 

“I know, darling,” he sighed, and lifted himself up to sit with a grunt. 

You could hear your own heart breaking at the sight of him being so helpless. A week ago he was playing football with Mingyu and Jeonghan and now he couldn’t even sit up on his own. 

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. 

“Stop,” you said softly, placing your hand on top of his. “I know this is hard for you, I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling right now,” you gently ran your finger through his messy hair, soothing the previous tugging of his. 

“But remember that you’re not alone in this and even though you can’t be with the boys right now, they're not angry with you. You didn’t let anyone down Seungcheol. Stop blaming yourself, it was an accident.” 

His shoulders hung low, not convinced by your words. And it would take him some time to believe that, you knew that. 

“I just miss the guys,” he said. 

“I know. But they miss you a lot too, baby.” 

As you sat in silence, a simple idea popped into your head. 

What if you planned an extra monthly meeting? They could all gather at Seungcheol’s place and he would have a surprise, he’d certainly be happy with. If that didn’t make him feel better, nothing would. 

“You can go now, you know,” he said quietly, avoiding your eyes. 

“You know what? I’ll take a day off today.”

[sanguineterrain]

professor pretty | charles xavier

Summary: You duck into a pub to escape a creep. Just when you've lost hope that you'll get to go home at all, a pretty-faced professor comes to your rescue.

Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings/tags: creepy guy intimidating reader, charles to the rescue, flirting, drinking, professor!reader, i tried to make it accurate to an english university and make him English but if there's any mistakes feel free to lmk.

this is a modern au in that movie canon is the same but they have cellphones here bc it's easier lol

the divider

There’s a man at the back of the pub, in a scary leather jacket and combat boots, and he won’t stop staring at you. 

Instinct tells you that he’s not going to let you leave either. 

You noticed him after you left the school. That’s what first pushed you into this pub across from the university. Now you’re parked on a stool. You really want to go home, but instead you’re sticking close to the frazzled barman who’s managing about thirty first years who are just jazzed about the new school year. 

You’ve ordered a pint, even though you’re not really a beer drinker, but when in Rome and all that. You’ve had about two sips. 

You sneak a look over your shoulder. The man is still there. Fuck.

“Could I have another pint, please? Cheers.” A man leans against the bar top, hand running through his light brown hair as if on instinct. You’ve seen him once this week, at the university, when you were trying to get your own classroom set up for the term. 

You don’t know his name or what he teaches, but you do know that he likes the poofy-haired, off-duty secretary in the red dress that came in about an hour earlier. And she seemed to like him back. You’re surprised he’s still here.

You rest your chin in your hand, watching detachedly as he orders. He’s got a nice smile and even nicer manners. Posh. Probably a jerk. 

“Hello.”

You look up. Professor Pretty Boy is standing closer to you, blue eyes warm. His smile fades as you look at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, brows knitting in concern.

You sigh. “Yeah, great.”

The last thing you need is another guy screwing up your night. Even if this one is considerably better looking.

He rests his elbow against the bar top and pushes his finger against his temple. 

“Is someone bothering you?” he asks after a moment.

Your eyes widen. “How did you–?”

“I recognize the look. Fella in the corner, yeah?”

His words make you tense. You sneak a look back. The man is still there, though he’s now on the phone. 

“I think he’s going to follow me home if I try to leave,” you whisper. 

His eyes soften in concern. You watch him watch you. Then he seems to make a decision.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here, alright?”

He heads straight for the creep. You watch, slack-jawed, as your unsuspecting knight in a crisp, white button-up says a couple words to the man. Then they go outside. 

You turn around, guilt washing over you. What if he gets hurt?

Well, so what, says another part of you, it’s not like you told him to confront the guy.

But your knight returns in thirty seconds, every hair in place. He gracefully slides onto the stool next to you and takes a gulp of beer. Foam gathers on his upper lip. You can’t help your disbelieving smile.

“You’ve got…” You gesture to your mouth.

“Ah.” He takes a napkin and wipes his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Is he flustered? 

“There’s just no dignified way to drink a pint, I’ve learned,” he says, clearing his throat. He smiles at you, less rakish and more bashful. 

“How did you do that?” you ask. “He must’ve been there for half an hour.”

“Hm? Ah, well, I politely explained that that sort of behavior isn’t tolerated here, and that I was very happy to call the police.”

Your brows rise. “Wow. He seemed determined to stay.”

“I can be very persuasive, I’ve been told. Oh! How rude of me.” He sticks out his hand. “My name is Charles. Charles Xavier.”

You shake his hand. It’s cool and soft. You tell him your name. He repeats it softly.

“It’s very nice to meet you, though I wish we’d met through better circumstances,” Charles says.

You nod. “Me too. But thank you, seriously.”

“No thanks necessary. Men should let others live in peace.”

“Words of the century,” you say, raising your glass.

“Cheers,” Charles says, clinking your glasses together. 

You both take a drink. You’re considerably more relaxed. And no, you’re not really Professor Xavier’s type, but you like the company. At least for tonight. 

“So, are you visiting?” he asks. “Pardon my saying, but you don’t sound…”

“Like you?” You playfully raise an eyebrow.

His eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve only been here a week, actually. I took a teaching position at the university.”

“You don’t say! I teach here too. What are you teaching? Wait, no, let me guess…”

Charles squints in concentration, putting his hand to his forehead. “Hmm… ah! Women’s literature?”

You shake your head. “You’re on a roll, seriously. I’m in awe.”

Charles waves you off. “You’re too kind. I’m just perceptive.”

And there’s a pinch of something in your gut, something that tells you that it’s more than good perception. But you don’t detect any malice in Charles. In fact, you feel nothing but kindness and genuine interest emanating from his gaze. 

“Well, let’s see if you’ll go two for two. What author am I teaching first?”

Charles smiles at you knowingly, and you’re sure he’s about to say it.

“Oh, I haven’t a clue. Hmm… Ms. Austen?”

You laugh. “No, I’m very sure that the students at Pembroke have gotten their fill of Austen in their A-levels. Do you give up?”

He grins. “Yes, I do. Tell me all about it, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for a quitter, Charles.”

“I know when I’m beat,” he says softly, and the tips of his fingers touch yours. 

To your surprise, you don’t pull away, even though getting involved with a professor your first week would be bad.

But there’s something magnetic about him.

“I was thinking I’d teach The Haunting of Hill House.”

Charles raises his brows. “Horror? My, my. Quite a first impression. I like it.”

“Got to make it memorable, don’t I?”

“I don’t think you’ll have trouble with that,” he says. Your face warms under his incessant charm. “You’ll get on fine here. I’ve been teaching for a few years. My sister keeps pushing me to find a place in America, but I have a hard time letting go of the familiar.”

“I bet you’re popular here,” you say, and Charles immediately catches onto your meaning.

“Heh, well…” Charles purses his lips mischievously. “Ahem. I try to make the course engaging, especially since I teach graduate courses. But I’m a homebody, truly. It’s my sister who pulls me out here, and one thing leads to another, and I get to meet lovely new lecturers with impeccable literary taste.”

You turn and focus on your all but abandoned beer, tracing shapes into the condensation and hoping you’ll get some reserve back.

“Does this charming routine work on everyone?” 

Charles laughs. “Actually, my routine is something like, um…” 

He leans in, half-lidded. “I have all the time in the world for a darling with the TCHH gene. You would call it curly hair, I call it a mutation. A most alluring mutation, mind you—you see, mutations are what took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of reproductive life on the planet. And being that it’s my field of study, and I take my studies very seriously, I would love to explore what other genetic wonders you’ve been gifted with.”

It’s quiet for several moments. Then you begin to giggle. Charles schools his expression, feigning indignance. 

“And what’s so funny?”

“You’re not serious,” you say. “Does that really work?”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing—it has a nine out of ten success rate,” Charles says, sticking his nose up. “People like genetic facts.”

“I think they like your pretty face more than the facts, Professor.”

You wince as you realize what you’ve said. Charles pounces immediately.

“Apologies, I can’t hear you very well in this loud pub… did you say my face is pretty?”

“Oh, put a sock in it,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

That draws a full laugh from him, face scrunching in delight. You smile back, shaking your head.

You check your phone out of habit, feeling like it’s been a long time and… holy hell! 11:46. You curse, scraping your stool back.

“Dammit, dammit. I’ve got a lecture tomorrow morning! I’m so sorry, Charles, I have to go.”

You hadn’t meant to stay so long, but the stranger had frightened you, and then you’d met Charles, and…

But you stop short upon seeing the door because of the terrifying thought of the stranger waiting outside for you.

Charles must sense your hesitance. “I can drive you home.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m only a ten minute walk away,” you say, but it’s weak.

He puts a hand on your back. The touch is fleeting, but he’s warm through your shirt. 

“Then I’ll walk with you. I love walking. And the rain will come soon—got to take advantage of clear nights.”

You look at him. He already has his coat. You suddenly remember the woman he’d followed to the back table. 

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have a…”

“She wasn’t interested,” Charles says, back to his perceptive ways. His gaze is fond. “I’d rather walk with you, anyway.”

“You’ve already charmed me, Charles,” you say as he walks you out of the pub.

“No charm,” he says simply, holding the door for you. “Just being honest, darling.”

You feel infinitely better on the way home. Charles keeps your spirits high, providing you with endless advice and assurances for your new job. 

You go up the steps, taking out your key to the flat. 

“Look, um…” 

You stop and turn. Charles follows you up. He starts to touch your arm, then stops. He straightens his tie instead.

“If you see that man again, or someone like him. Someone who doesn’t look right. Promise you’ll tell me, alright? You can reach me on my mobile any time.”

He hands you a card. Charles Xavier, Mutant Expert. Huh.

You look at him, fear returning. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, he won’t bother you. But if… I don’t know. Never mind. No, I’m worrying you. I’m just making you paranoid. Forget that.”

You shrug. “You’re keeping me safe. I like that.”

Charles chews the inside of his lip for a second. Then he leans in and kisses your cheek. You inhale sharply. 

His thumb lingers on your jaw before he pulls away completely.

“Good night,” he says, pupils dilated in the dim light. 

“Good night, Charles. Thank you.”

“Any time. And if you just want to go for a pint, that number isn’t just for emergencies.” 

“Are you that sure of yourself?” you ask, hand on your hip.

“No.” He smirks. “I just happen to be very perceptive.”

[whispersoftheton]

hiiii!! can i ask for a fic where reader (aka viscountess) is helping benedict with a lady he's falling in love with, but they're basically scheming and secretive and Anthony gets suspicious and a little jealous/upset? thanks!!!!!

Hello nonny! I've been going back and forth on posting this mostly because I don't feel like it's very good but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: jealous!Anthony

Word Count: 1.1K

The day had dawned, and it seemed you had blinked the night away after a previously tedious day. Your duties as Viscountess had significantly grown since Lady Bridgerton had started to hand over most of the reigns of the house. With some spare time on your hands, you spent most of your day in the main hall amongst everyone as you poured yourself some tea before returning to your reading. With a hint of mystery in his eyes, Benedict strolled into the room and stood beside you, making himself busy with the book you had just put down on the tray.

"Viscountess now, is it?" He teased in a hushed tone to not alert the siblings of his untimely arrival. Benedict always had a way of easily slipping in and out of sight, with his mama distracted with his other sibling's endeavors.

"It would appear so." You offered him a warm smile while pouring some tea for yourself. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Benedict?" Although most may not understand your relationship with your new brother-in-law, this is how it has always been since your courtship with Anthony. How you managed to keep up flawlessly in between constant banter with his siblings was just one of the things Anthony loved most about you. And Benedict was no exception.

"It seems I find myself in need of your assistance." The unusual hesitance in his voice piqued your interest. Benedict was never one to shy away from a challenge, let alone hold his tongue. "There is a lady who I would like to…pursue."

"As in courting? The Benedict Bridgerton interested in seriously courting someone? Why I'd never thought I'd see the day." Your words dripped with sarcasm, but as you turned toward Benedict, it was clear this was no joke, making you reconsider your teasing, at least for now. "I apologize; I did not realize this was a serious matter." His eyes still trained on the tea before you. "If it is my assistance you require with the matter, I will help you."

"Really?" He leaned back, head up with a cocked brow.

"You are my brother now. And if this lady is as suitable of a match as you are implying, I will do everything in my power to assure your courtship to her."

"You care about me?" His teasing returned, making you resist the urge to roll your eyes toward him, but a smile crept up nonetheless.

"Of course, I care. We are family. Now, let's get to it before I regret this entire thing."

Anthony paced around his office, unable to focus on a single task all day. His desk was littered with papers needing attention, but all he could focus on was how odd you'd been acting as of late. Your presence was scarce around the house, although your duties were always tended to. Anthony missed having you as close by as he was accustomed to since your marriage. Of course, he caught glimpses of you throughout the day, but you always seemed to be scurrying off somewhere. He couldn't help but notice Benedict lingering nearby at every event he'd been to in the last couple of weeks, engaging you in conversation whenever he stepped away, even for a moment. Anthony knew he had no reason to be envious; you were his wife, and you loved each other dearly. But that didn't stop him from suppressing a surge of jealousy at the thought of you and Benedict spending so much time together. Impossible thoughts swirled through his mind, straying him further and further away from any rational thinking until his feet carried him faster than he could stop himself as he called the carriage.

The day was as warm as it was humid; the lush field was decorated with tents showcasing various vendors as the ton gathered. You had spent the better part of your time in the last couple of weeks preparing Benedict as much as possible, covering everything from appropriate topics of conversation to enticing the young woman to yearn for more interactions with him. It had been a challenging task. For every ounce of natural charm Benedict possessed, his soon-to-be lady seemed to be immune to it at every turn. Every challenge she presented seemed to draw Benedict closer. It was daunting, to say the least, but today would be the day. The garden party was the event of the social season, and you knew for a fact that she would make an appearance today. Benedict came up beside you, eyes set on her almost immediately. You glanced toward him, watching intently as his face softened, a smile deepening with every second he laid his eyes on her. Your heart warmed; whatever Benedict felt for this lady, you understood it was exactly what he had been searching for.

"Are you ready?" He snapped out of it and nodded toward you. "Go on then." Benedict readied himself, taking comfort in the fact that you would be nearby. But as soon as he stepped forward, he felt a hand grip his shoulder and move him back toward you.

"My dear brother," Anthony kept his tone hushed so as not to alarm any of the ton members standing nearby. "I will make haste so we may continue with the day's festivities. Care to clarify as to why you are spending so much of your time with my wife?" You and Benedict shared a look, holding back a laugh.

"I'd prefer not to; I'm rather entertained at the moment." Benedict crossed his arms before him, aiming his shit-eating grin at Anthony.

"Truly, Anthony, you could not make any more of a fool of yourself than you already are." You huffed as you turned toward your husband. "May I speak to you in private?" Anthony hesitated before he took your hand and walked you to an isolated part of the lake away from the chaos.

"If you must know, I was asked to help your brother pursue someone. I have been guiding him on proper conversation topics and ways to impress the young lady he has shown interest in. That is all. And if you are indeed insinuating there would be absolutely anything inappropriate happening between your brother and I then you truly do not know me at all."

"That is not what I thought-I-You were only spending so much time with Benedict, and I allowed my temper to best me; I only missed your company." His apologetic look had you softening under his gaze. "I apologize."

"Next time, simply ask before you allow your mind to run rampant with impossible thoughts, hm?" He nodded before taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Anthony lead you back toward the gathering to find Benedict wholly entranced in a rather enticing conversation with his lady.

"It seems like you did well, my love," Anthony whispered toward you, tapping your hand, which was now holding onto his arm. "Looks like my brother might find his match after all."

Mini Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @thethreeeyed-raven @ssprayberrythings @fatbottomedvirgo @fictional-hooman @sky0401 (let me know if you would like to added by leaving a comment here or dm me if you’d like to be added/removed)

I DO NOT HAVE WATTPAD. I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

[swarvey]

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

part one

paper rings - harvey x reader

a/n: part two with the rest of the bachelors ! let me know if you guys want to see the bachelorettes <3

—

alex

this big softie starts to blame himself when he sees you with scratches and bruises

insists on following you on your adventures from that day forward

pretty much acts as a personal bodyguard for a week

you wince as you rub a disinfectant pad on the large scratch on the side of your arm, thankful your husband isn't due to be home for another couple of hours. he worries enough about you as is — the last thing he needs is something to feed his paranoia, as cute as it is. just as you're about to apply some ointment on your arm, you hear the front door open, alex's familiar voice ringing through the house.

"baby, i'm home!" he calls out, voice as bright as ever. you hear your pet pattering over to greet him. "aw, hey buddy! where's y/n, huh? have you seen 'em?" you swear under your breath as your pet betrays you, leading alex straight towards the bedroom. "are you in there, honey? grams didn't need as much help as i thought—"

you hear him suck in a sharp breath at the sight of you and the first aid kit spread out across the bed.

"i'm fine," you assure. he ignores you, eyes glued to your injured arm as he makes his way to the bed. "seriously, it's not even that bad."

"here, let me do it," he says, and you swear you've never heard him speak so softly. blinking in shock, you hand the bottle of ointment over to him, watching as he gently begins to apply it.

"alex, you're scaring me a bit," you half-joke. he's never been one to be so silent. "it's okay—"

"it's not, though!" your eyes widen as alex looks at you with gleamy eyes. "see, i knew you'd get hurt one day, and i still let you go off and do all these things alone. i should've been there to help you." his head bows in shame, and your heart breaks. "i'm sorry. i'll be by your side next time, i promise."

shaking your head, you wrap your unhurt arm around his neck and pull him into a hug. he gladly hides his face in your shoulder, his arms holding onto your midsection tightly.

"alex, there's nothing to be sorry for," you reassure, rubbing his back to provide some comfort. "this is part of my job, it's what i signed up for." he pulls away suddenly to look at you with serious eyes.

"then quit!" he exclaims. "i'll do it all, you can teach me."

you laugh. "as much as i love you, you are not taking over my grandfather's farm."

"well, i'll just do everything with you, then." alex nods to himself, grabbing the roll of bandages from the kit and beginning to wrap your arm. his eyes widen when he notices the bruises on your legs. "how did this even happen?"

"oh, i was gathering hardwood and some slimes snuck up on me. i fell, but i was able to fight them off." no response. "alex?" a dark look comes over your husband's face.

"get me a sword."

"what?!"

sebastian

seb is one of the bachelors i see respecting your strength the most, always subtly bragging about your fighting skills and the work you do on the farm (sam and abigail are thoroughly impressed)

that being said, he is all the more startled when he sees you limping home from the clinic after nearly passing out from exhaustion

tries to keep his cool, as he always does, but it's hard for him to see the person he cares about the most in pain

"wear the brace for a week, then stop by for another appointment with me so we can see how you're doing," harvey instructs, clasping the brace around your ankle. "drink plenty of water and eat something when you get back. and be mindful while you're working on the farm, i don't want this to be a regular occurrence," he chides.

the doctor had practically dragged you into his office after running into you in front of pierre's, half-conscious as you claimed you just needed some coffee.

"i will," you sigh, using his arm for support as you stand. "thanks, harvey. i owe you."

"no need to worry about that, just get some rest at home. i'm sure sebastian is wondering where you are."

shit. you chew your lip as you slowly make your way back to the farm, trying to find the right words to say to your husband. it's not like you to overwork yourself like this on the farm, but after waking up a bit too late in the morning, you'd found yourself rushing to get everything done. seb had been sound asleep as you worked, but with the sun beginning to set in the sky, you knew he had to be up and waiting for you at home.

sure enough, as you walk towards your front door, you see him already sitting on the front steps, a book in hand. his head quickly turns at the sound of your footsteps.

"you're back! did you have errands to run?" seb asks, setting his book down. "i thought you had a lot to do this morning?"

you hesitate, nodding slowly as you avoid his gaze. "i did," you answer, swallowing. "i was, ah, at the clinic."

"what? why—?" only then does he notice the bags under your eyes and the brace wrapped around your ankle. "hey, what happened?" he walks over to your side, slowly guiding you to the steps and helping you sit down.

"i'm alright," you say, though you unsuccessfully hide your discomfort as you stretch your hurt ankle out. "i twisted my ankle, is all."

"right." you know sebastian well enough to tell when he's worrying; his brow is furrowed, his eyes glued to the ground.

"come on, seb, don't be so dramatic," you joke, shoving him lightly with your shoulder. "it's not like i'm dying." he looks at you suddenly with squinted eyes, as if he's trying to decode your words. "what?"

"people tend to say that when things are worse than they are," he says, looking you up and down. "what really happened?"

"what are you talking about?"

"maybe i'll go talk to harvey." he begins to stand, but you grab his wrist and drag him back down.

"okay, okay!" the last thing you want is for him to take the doctor's words too seriously and put you on a house lockdown. "i just overworked myself in the heat, alright? seriously! harvey said i should be fine with some rest."

"really? that's all?"

"yes."

"all you hurt was your ankle?"

"yes."

"did you set up another appointment with him?"

"yes, seb, i'm fine!" you grab his arm and pull him closer, looking straight into his worried eyes. "look, see? i'm in one piece."

sebastian sighs, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly. "i know, you've always been strong," he says, smiling lightly. "just . . . don't overdo it, okay? i'm here to help you, too."

you smile back at him. "i know." you pause. "you know, harvey said i need to lay off the rest of my work today."

"yeah?" seb grins, helping you stand. "what are you thinking?"

you pretend to ponder for a moment. "maybe some dinner and TV? we still have that show we need to catch up on."

he laughs, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you head inside.

"whatever you want, dear."

sam

he thinks you're invincible.

completely freaks out when he sees you actually hurt for the first time

makes you spend the rest of the day in bed and brings you some of his mom's food

(claims it has healing powers)

the sun is still high in the sky when you leave the mines. your plan had been to spend the whole day gathering resources, but after a rough tousle with some monsters, you don't have the energy to keep going. your head is throbbing, and you're mildly aware of the cut on your forehead that finally stopped bleeding.

you make your way across the farm and toward your house, and you can hear sam practicing on his skateboard. you hope you can avoid him, at least until you're able to clean up your injury.

as you open the front door, though, a loud creak fills the air, and you freeze. the sound of the skateboard stops.

"baby, is that you?" sam calls out, walking around to the front porch. you keep your back turned. "did you forget something?"

"uh, no! no, the mines were just a bit empty today, so . . ." you trail off. you turn your head away from him as sam tries to look at your face, but sigh in defeat when he cups your cheek and makes you face him.

immediately, his eyes widen. "you're hurt!"

"i'm fine—"

without another word, sam grabs your hand and drags you inside, bringing you into the bathroom. he spends the next few minutes tenderly cleaning the cut on your forehead, apologizing every time you flinch in pain. then, he brings you to your shared bedroom, covering you in the sheets and bringing you a mug of your favorite drink.

"stay here," he instructs, "i'll be right back." he turns to your pet, tail wagging as it sits at your bedside. "you're in charge while i'm gone, alright? make sure they stay put!" you laugh lightly as sam hurriedly leaves the house, hearing the sound of his skateboard rolling away. you let out a sigh, closing your eyes as you begin to fall asleep.

"baby, wake up."

your eyes open to the sound of your husband beside you once again, holding a bowl of steaming soup.

"i stopped by mom's to get some of her soup. you know i'm not the best cook," he admits, "but you need to eat something with lots of nutrients to get better."

you laugh lightly, gladly letting him feed you the first bite. the warmth of the soup makes you feel already a bit better.

"thank you, sam," you say, looking at him gratefully. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

"hey, shouldn't i be saying that?" he jokes, planting a kiss on your cheek. "here, eat up. you need all the strength you can get!"

after you finish eating, you begin to sit up, stretching your arms.

"hey, what are you doing?" sam questions, setting the bowl on your nightstand.

"i need to check on the animals one more time," you sigh, ignoring the ache in your arms. he scoffs, grabbing your arms and sitting you back down in bed.

"right, and just what kind of husband would i be if i let you do that?" he straightens his back and crosses his arms, smiling confidently. "leave it to me!"

"sam."

"yes, dear?"

"do you even know what you'd be checking for?"

he pauses, arms dropping. "right," he says, sighing. "i guess i don't." you laugh, standing back up but grabbing his hand.

"come on, you can be my assistant for tonight."

"yes!"

[dollarbils]

but baby, i | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, can’t resist calling you a week after you’d broken up.

warnings. angst, fluff, suggestive

masterlist

‘if you go, i’m going too’

a sigh of relief was heard on the other end of the phone when you’d pressed the green button, spilling out a hesitant ‘hello’ as you held the phone up to your ear. There was no response however, lighting up a flame of irritation in you.

“Who is this?” was the next thing that fell from your lips, laced with hostility.

“baby,” it was quiet, soft and inviting. Emotions from the previous couple months all encompassed into the term of endearment.

“billie?” your voice softened at the realisation of who it was.

“deleted my number already have you?” she teased, but it didn’t make you smile, not in this moment.

“billie, what happened? are you okay?” the questions tumbled out in an attempt to comprehend the reason for her call. it had been a week since you’d broken up, and hearing her voice felt like you’d been taken back to last Friday.

“yeah no, nothing happened, i’m fine. i just..” she trailed off, gathering the courage to speak, or the bravery to do the right thing, and hang up. but she was weak, and so were you.

“yeah?” it was a plea for her to continue. a beg for her to speak the words you couldn’t.

“i miss you baby.” your eyes drifted shut, a flush rising to your cheeks.

“billie, this isn’t a good idea.” it was the truth neither of you wanted to hear.

“i don’t care.” she whined, desperation clear in her words.

“billie don’t say that.” she let out a sigh of frustration at your words.

“i know you missed me too, this week has been the shittiest week you could imagine.” and suddenly you found yourself drifting into your usual conversation, like you would’ve a week ago.

“i’m sorry bils, how can i help?” it was a stupid question and you’d realised soon enough. all of this would eventually lead you back to her.

“you know how.” it was a confession in itself, revealing what she hoped to get from this call.

“tell me. whatever you need, i’ll do it.” you couldn’t reject her, not now, not ever. she had been everything for you, and she still was.

“come over, please.” her request was simple but it meant so much.

“are you sure?” her answer would decide your future, because it was clear what would happen if you complied with her wish.

“i need you.” those three words were deadly, they represented so many things all at once. they could be interpreted as multiple meanings.

“fuck,” it was a sigh of submission, giving in to her. and everything you’d previously given up. “i’ll be there in ten.”

‘cause it was always you’

the silence that followed the knock on her door, was deafening. leaving too much space for you to fall into the pit of doubt, that was still very much prominent. when the door finally opened, she stood in front of you, her perfect eyes attaching themselves to yours. then she smiled, engulfing you in a gentle hug, holding you as if you might break.

“billie.” it pulled her out of her state of daydreaming, grounding her with the realisation that this didn’t mean the beginning of a new chapter.

“i’m so sorry.” the apology was long overdue, but when she closed the door behind you, inviting you back in, none of that mattered.

“i know, but i need your promise, that we’ll be okay this time. i can’t go through breaking up with you again. i won’t survive it this time.” your throat closed up, signalling you to stop talking before your feelings spill out of your eyes, in front of her.

“of course angel, i understand. i’ll give you whatever you need.” she held your face in her hands, confirming her words at the slight rub of her thumb, over your cheeks.

“i need your devotion, your love.”

“but baby, i..” she paused for a second, pondering on wether her next words were ones she’d later regret. but she soon brushed the doubt away, releasing herself from its constraints, confessing her truth. “i’ll love you ‘til the day that i die.”

when she brought her lips to yours they were warm, inviting. they connected and moulded together as your bodies inched closer.

‘and if i’m turning blue, please don’t save me’

the heat from her breath, warming the patches of skin tainted by her tongue, as she ran it across your naked body. her lips attached to yours nipples, and then your clit. devoting herself to your pleasure. expressing her love for your body.

‘nothing left to lose, without my baby.’

and when your mind lost itself in her affection, focusing on her tongue buried deep inside you hole, you felt connected. birds of a feather destined to reach for each other in times of difficulty. destined to end up in each others’ embrace in times of despair.

‘we should stick together.’

[missnancychavez]

So I am on my third rewatch of Twisters. So here are some of my own personal headcanons and theories for the movie and some parallels that may add weight to those theories.

1. The original 5 friend group dynamic: Jeb and Praveen have known each other for years and are each others best friend. Javi and Kate are the dynamic duo (basing it on the fact that they were the only ones to do the handshake together). And Addy is everyone's little sister. Her and Kate were extremely close, but in a different way than her friendship with Javi.

2. Tyler Owens is the nephew of Bill and Jo on Bill's side (As we knew Jo didn't have any sibling). He spent his summers with them as a kid, and then as a teenager, he moved in with them full time. He started chasing with them around then, too. He even pays homage to that as he is driving a newer model of Bill's red dodge ram.

3. Boone and Lily have something going on. The way Boone screams her name as she gets picked up by the wind. And their personalities are perfect together. You can't convince me otherwise.

4. Kate and Tyler kiss in the truck after the chase they go on straight from the airport at the end of the movie. (Refer to point 8)

5. Kate puts in her resignation almost immediately, and Javi cuts ties with Riggs and Scott. The wranglers and Kate join StormPAR. Kate and Tyler spend the off-season working with Javi while the others do their own gigs, but during the storm season, they are all chasing and gathering data.

6. Cathy is so encouraging of her daughter because she's been through loss before. They called her Mrs. Carter, meaning she was married. Kate's dad died when Kate was a little girl. Cathy had to learn how to navigate being a young mom and tending a farm on her own. But she also knows that it could stop her from living her life. So she didn't. She grieved, and she learned to live with the grief and still do what she loves. It's why she is so encouraging of Kate getting back out there.

7. Kate stayed in OK for another couple of weeks after the tornado (neither her nor Tyler appeared injured in the final scene, and the truck looks great, all things considered, so clearly they had time tp heal and fix the truck.) They all were forcibly invited back to the farm by Cathy after Tyler and the wranglers went to drop Kate off post El Reno. Cathy took one look at Tyler and forced him in the house. Kate gave herself a headache from laughing so hard. She was then sent inside alongside him. Cathy made everyone stay for as long as they needed. But she did, however, get some free labour from it. It was an unspoken agreement that Kate's was now home base.

8. By the credit scenes, Kate and Tyler are together. Their first kiss was immediately after the two of them went chasing from the airport. Something about their adrenaline rushing, and it being just the two of them. It was electric. It was immediate. It just happened, and when they pulled back, they both started laughing. It reminded him of the first time they chased together, just the two of them. Kate delayed her flight for another two days. She was back home within the month. Tyler quickly realised he would have to start bribing Boone afterwards on the days he and Kate went out.

9. Kate and Boone will play card games at night to see who gets shotgun the next day, when Boone isn't riding with Lily, of course. Turns out, Kate's damn good at playing poker. On the rare occasion that Kate drives, Boone automatically hops in the back of the truck. He won't tell anyone, but he loves it when she drives. She gets this manic energy about her in the drivers seat and his adrenaline always ends up pumping. Tyler loves it, too, but he has no qualms verbalizing his affections toward her.

10. Tyler has nightmares now. Of watching Kate drive into the tornado. Of finding her body, discarded and broken by his truck. Of her slipping through his fingers during a storm. He wakes up sweating and panicking. And it's only when he sees her that he can calm himself down. The two of them, those first two weeks after El Reno, would spend hours each night, sitting in the barn, going over formulas. Or sitting outside on the tree swing, talking until they were both too exhausted to have any nightmares. When she left to go back to New York, she wasn't particularly surprised when one night she awoke to her phone ringing, Tyler close to having a full blown panic attack as he tried and failed to reassure himself that she was okay without her help. They would always call each other before bed after that, usually falling asleep over facetime.

[leyyvi]

It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.

You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.

But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.

However, your boyfriend definitely notices.

Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.

"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"

You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.

"Lunch. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."

He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.

"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."

With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.

When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.

And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.

He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.

You really love that about him.

When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.

"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."

"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.

"Mhm," is all he says.

You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.

Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.

Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.

You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.

"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.

"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.

Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.

"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"

"It was funny to me! You're always funny."

"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."

"Must be why you're dating me, right?"

His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"

Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."

"You could be more specific."

"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.

You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."

"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.

[realcube]

WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, slut-shaming (both ways)

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

your friends call it 'inexplicable hatred', 'misdirected anger' and 'envy' but they couldn't be more wrong.

your feelings towards tsukishima kei were completely rational in your mind. he carried himself as though he was better than everyone and treated those around him like filth, yet he's still tolerated and his shitty attitude is even deemed charming by some self-loathing girls at your college.

it irritates you to no end how he behaves. too cocksure and too sassy; no dignified man should never act in such a manner, you believe. you could go on about other reasons you dislike him — his style atrocities and his punchable face, to name a couple — but you shan't.

you intended on going about your life, simply hating him from afar as you didn't see the need to stir up petty drama. but he made it impossible for you to do so.

one day he was sat behind you in a maths lecture. the seats are tiered so he is slightly higher up than you are. while making notes, his pen slips out of his hand and tumbles forward, landing somewhere under your desk.

you do the polite thing by making an attempt to search for it, but it is dark under the table you can't seem to find it.

a couple moments pass, and he remarks lowly, "are you just going to stare it?"

white hot rage courses through you at his comment. what ever happened to 'please'? to 'would you mind'? you were about to do him a favour by fetching his pencil and he still has the audacity to be snarky.

fuck that, he can pick up his own damn pen. you leave it alone and try to focus on the lecture.

you make it through the whole thing without him bothering you again, probably using a spare or borrowed pen. once the class has been dismissed, you gather your things and wait for the people in your row to start filtering out so you can leave, that is when you feel a gentle tap on the shoulder.

you turn around and lock eyes with a tan, freckled boy with mousy brown hair, he wears an awkward smile and point to your desk, "excuse me, my friend dropped his pencil and i think it landed under your desk. could you get it, please?"

his voice is meek and demeanour similar to that of a shy puppy, which is why it almost pained you to scoff at him and say, "tell your friend to stop being such a cunt, then maybe."

you rush out of the door, keen to get as far away from those two boys as you can. yet as you leave you hear the blonde's voice mutter in your wake, "what a moron."

after marinating on the situation during the retelling to your friend group, and a group vote, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your response to yamaguchi — you learned his name from one your friends — might have been a bit severe. but in your defence, you were peeved by the comment tsukishima had made prior.

it's as though manners and etiquette are totally lost on him.

ೃ⁀➷

two weeks passed since your last little altercation with tsukishima, and you were proud to say you haven't been involved in any conflict with him since then. mostly making snide remarks in passing or exchanging dirty looks in the hall.

however, that all changed when your professor was late to one of your classes. they expressed in the past that they prefer students to wait outside the lecture theatre when they aren't present, so naturally this caused many people to be clogging the hallways.

there was a long queue of people waiting to enter, you stood far away from the door, while tsukishima and yamaguchi happened to be standing opposite. you couldn't help but notice the outfit tsukishima had on: skinny light brown trousers with a black belt, and a pressed short-sleeve white shirt, that was a bit see-through.

you didn't know much about this guy but from his slightly toned figure, which was made apparent by his choice in clothes, you could tell he does some sort of sport. probably basketball, considering how tall he is, but maybe golf. he acts like a golf player.

lost in thought for too long, your finally yanked out of your own internal monologue by a familiar voice snapping, "what are you staring at?"

you blink, and before you even have time to process what he just accused you of, you blurt out, "has anyone told you that you're dressed like a slut today?"

yamaguchi must slap a hand over his mouth to suppress his burgeoning laughter. tsukishima's eyes narrow at his friend's offensive display, before they snap back to you and he argues, "really? me? i'm dressed appropriately. take a look at what you're wearing."

he motions to your outfit: jorts and a tank top. maybe not the most stylish choice but definitely not as whorish as his attire. "it might be more revealing but still not as slutty as you."

he rolls his eyes like what you said was contradictory, wearing smug smile. he wants you to believe what you said is nonsensical and 'proved his point' but all it does it anger you to no end.

not fond of his facial expressions, you retort, "don't pull stupid faces and play dumb. you're already dumb enough as is, so it isn't a very becoming look on you."

with furrowed brows, he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, "and i can see your chest through your shirt. no one wants to see that!"

"you say that while your tits are out, have some self-respect."

"at least i have tits. you're wearing a short sleeve to show off the muscles you don't even have!"

yamaguchi is thoroughly entertained by this squabble, which is why it pains him to chime in, "uh, tsukki. the lecturer is here, let's go."

as much as he wanted to get the last word in, tsukishima glances between tadashi and the empty halls before he decides his education is actually kinda important and begins to make his way inside the theatre. it was good timing because he didn't have a witty response anyway.

your heart is beating rapidly, though you're unsure why. you gaze at the empty walls for a minute to collect yourself before heading into class as well. you totally won that fight, is what you tell yourself.

ೃ⁀➷

ever since the disagreement you had with tsukishima in hallways of the maths building, what was once comments and glares has escalated to threats and insults being made boldly in each other's face.

despite the fact you ate him up the first time, you've been on a losing streak since then. you feel as though nothing you say gets under his skin anymore.

you've tried belittling his face, his smarts, his personality, his mother but nothing seems to work. you even tried to ridicule his glasses but that didn't work either!

"hey, four eyes!"

"hey, five guys."

what the fuck? you weren't sure if that was a dig at your diet, your weight or your quantity of sexual partners but regardless, you could not let that slide.

verbal abuse wasn't working so naturally the next option was physical. you attempted to trip him in the halls but his legs were so long he stepped over you without even noticing. you attempted to pour milk over him but tadashi noticed and pulled him out of the way. you considered pushing his knees while he was standing in front of you but you realised that if he fell backwards his weight would crush you and you'd probably die.

all of that was so elementary and childish though; high school bullying at best. you need college level bullying. you thought about planting weed in his bag and calling the campus police on him but your friends said that was 'too far'. you thought about leaking his nudes but firstly you don't have them and secondly, he's already walking around college half naked anyway so he likely wouldn't be phased by it.

the hard thing about trying to torture a boy like tsukishima is you don't know enough about him to know what will truly drive him insane. you know he cares about his grades but sabotaging his test scores is beyond your means. he doesn't have any dignity so you can't humiliate him. even if you tried, his little gremlin of a best friend would probably catch onto you anyway.

that green haired boy was just as bad as his handler. always gawking at you to make sure you don't try anything; literally glued to tsukishima's ass at all times — it's so gross. and it gave you the most disgustingly perfect idea.

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 3 (18+)

a/n: thank you to all who liked, commented and reblogged. glad to have you on this ride with me.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter two here ]

Chapter Three: Of Blowjobs and Birthdays

The house becomes hectic when everyone is back home. With twelve people living here, it’s a house full of extremely different personalities and, honestly, a little overwhelming. You start to wonder how stable things will remain throughout the year. Do the guys ever fight amongst themselves? Do the girls? You’re not very confrontational, so you’ll have to hold on to hope that any disagreements can be resolved quickly. 

After dinner you have a chance to interact with Jeongin in the basement. The two of you are standing next to the bar as Lee Know and Changbin challenge each other in a game of pool. Jeongin is all smiles and dimples as he talks to you about his minor in fashion design and his plan to launch a chic streetwear clothing line after graduating. You can’t think of any other way to describe him besides adorable and pure (Han will later assure you that thought wears off over time).

“If you ever need tips, I’m the one to talk to,” he tells you. 

“I may have to take you up on that because this,” you gesture to the plain jeans and shirt you’re wearing, “is where I tend to stay.”

He steps closer to you, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt. 

“May I?” He asks. 

You shrug and nod.

He gathers the fabric from the back and folds it upwards, then uses the excess material in front to twist into a spiral. He wraps the end around the ball that has formed and pushes the end piece through the center. He turns you around to face the mirror against the opposite wall and you nod your approval.

“It accentuates here,” he (very professionally) gestures towards your breast while standing behind you, then moves his hands lower to your waist, “and here without you having to do much.”

“Do mine next, Innie,” you hear Changbin say from the pool table.

“It works best with bigger shirts, hyung, yours are too tight,” Jeongin retorts. 

Lee Know laughs as he calls 8 ball corner pocket and sinks it in. 

The smile on Changbin’s face drops as he tosses the pool cue on the table. He heads up the stairs without saying anything to anyone, causing the three of you to burst out into laughter. 

You all end up following after him to the main floor to see what the others are up to. 

Mostly everyone has dispersed to doing their own thing and you decide to turn in for the night. If you stay down here any longer, you may be tempted to accidentally fall asleep on the couch, if it means avoiding going up to Chan’s room. You imagine that might not play out so well as you head to the second floor to shower.  

You make a stop in Hyunjin’s room on your way to grab a few things you’ll need the next couple days while staying with Chan.

Hyunjin is seated at his desk, fiddling with a camera. 

“Hey,” you say as you enter. 

“Come to say goodbye to me?” He spins in his chair to face you and pouts. 

“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already feels,” you say with a serious look on your face. 

Seeing your expression, he drops the pout. 

“You okay?” 

“It just feels conflicting, spending last night with you, now going to Chan…” you trail off as you sit down on his bed. 

“It will for the first few weeks, I’m sure,” he tells you. “I wish I could tell you how to sort through it but I really don’t know what it’s like from your perspective.”

“What’s it like from yours?” You ask. 

“These guys are my brothers…we’ve been through so much and already share everything, so this isn’t a huge stretch for us believe it or not,” he shrugs. “Everything is transparent so there’s no room for jealousy, we follow the rules of the house and it all just works out.”

“But Chan seems…”

“He’s been that way the last week for some reason. I don’t know what it is but he’ll either get over it or open up to us about it eventually. He just likes to brood. He’s moody like that.”

You nod your head, taking some consolation that maybe it isn’t you that’s the problem after all, and get up from the bed to retrieve your belongings. Hyunjin stands to hug you on your way out and tells you goodnight, placing a kiss on your forehead. You revel in his embrace while you have it.

“You should show your figure more,” he says when you step back, looking at the shirt Jeongin has revamped for you. “It looks good.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a shy smile, covering your midriff with your arm as you slowly back out of the room. You wave one final time before turning around, wanting to retain the happiness you’re feeling right now as you’re so uncertain what awaits on the next floor up. 

Seungmin, Changbin and Han, who also stay on the third floor, warned you about how warm it gets up there. So after your shower, you decide on a pair of silk pajama shorts and top for the night. When you enter Chan’s room, it feels even warmer since he’s just had a shower, too.

He has one towel tied around his hips and is using another to dry his hair when he stops to look at you. His eyes travel from you head to toes, then back up again. He sits down on his bed and watches you as you put your things away. 

“How was your first day in the house?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Pretty good, actually.” You say turning to face him, trying to keep your gaze on his face and not his exposed chest. Even in his relaxed sitting position you can see the outlines of his abs. 

“You think you’ll be able to stick it out?”

You furrow your brow at his question. 

“Am I allowed to leave if I feel like I can’t?” You ask. 

“You didn’t read the contract?”

Your gaze falls to the floor. Fucking contracts will probably be the death of you.

“It was, like, 37 pages, Chan. I have enough to read with my class assignments,” you tell him. 

“Yes, you can leave,” he answers. “With a proper two week notice so we have time to find a replacement.”

“That disposable, huh?” You move the blankets back on your bed and sit down on it. 

“We don’t force anyone to be here,” he shrugs, leaning back on his hands. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You ask suddenly. 

“You’re already here,” he replies. “Might as well stay.”

Part of you wants to take what he says as him encouraging you to stick around, but the way he says it makes it feel like an afterthought. You also made the mistake of thinking he was being kind to you earlier today. 

“Results are in, by the way,” he announces with his phone in hand.

It takes you a moment to realize what he means—the test you took a few days ago. Your heartbeat quickens as you check your phone and find the email. It’s not the results that are making you nervous. It’s the feel of his eyes on you and what comes next. You stand from your bed and walk towards him, hand outstretched for him to see your results. He nods his approval and shows you his.

“Did you want to…” you trail off, unable to bring yourself to say the words. 

He slowly licks his lips as he looks up at you. You’re not sure if the uneasiness you’re feeling is nerves or some kind of tormented butterflies. It feels drastically different than when you were with Hyunjin, that much you’re sure of.

He takes your phone from you and tosses it behind him on the bed before holding his hand out. You tentatively place yours in his and he pulls you so you’re standing between his legs. His hands drop to the back of your knees and his fingertips begin to lightly caress their way up the back of your thighs.  

“You don’t?” He counters. 

“I—I—“ you stutter. 

His hands creep higher and higher until they’re just barely beneath the hem of the shorts. He stops his movements, grips you and pulls you even closer to him. You place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling on him.

“It has to be consensual, y/n,” he tells you. “But I do want you first.”

Your eyes lock with his and for the first time you feel like he’s being transparent. Would it ease some of the tension you feel with him if you consent tonight? Hyunjin did mention some of the members view this as a sexual thing and others emotional. Maybe Chan just prefers the physical. 

“I’ve only ever been with one other person,” you say, looking down at the floor. 

“Then you’ll learn a lot here,” he says as his hands resume caressing you. 

Your hands move up towards his neck, fingers lightly stroking at the nape. Eyes still locked on his, you nod your consent. 

“Lesson one, then,” he says, spreading his legs a little further apart. “Get on your knees.”

Your eyebrows come together once again at his words. He doesn’t budge—doesn’t smile, no inference that he’s joking in the slightest. 

You slowly kneel on the floor in front of him. 

“Open my towel,” is his next command. 

You bring your hands to his lap to pull the two ends of the towel apart and cast them aside. He’s completely exposed but shows no sign of being embarrassed or insecure. Your eyes fall down to his cock—he has no reason to, you can see that. 

He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your head up. His thumb lightly moves across your lips from left to right then slowly drags down the middle, pulling your bottom lip with it. 

He redirects his attention to your pajama top, undoing the buttons with ease one by one. When he moves the silky fabric to the side, you let out a shaky breath as his eyes linger on your exposed breasts. He cups both of them in each hand, gliding his thumbs across your nipples until they harden.

It feels good, you can’t deny that. You have no control over your body’s response to his actions, but there’s some discrepancy between your body and the thoughts racing through your mind. He’s handsome, but are you attracted to him? Given the way he’s been treating you…what does it say about you if you are?

His hands fall from your chest, and you instantly feel cold without his touch. He reaches down for your hand and grabs it, placing it on his cock. You wrap your hand around it, feeling how warm and hard it is. He leans back on the bed, looking down at you. 

“Spit on it,” he tells you. 

You feel your pulse pick up at his words as you move your jaw and tongue to gather up moisture in your mouth. You adjust yourself over him to do as you’re told. He guides your hand once again, helping you move the saliva around and lather until his dick is slippery. 

“It’s not that fragile, you can squeeze a little harder, y/n.” His tone is soft as he looks at you with darkened eyes. 

You tighten your grip and begin moving your hand up and down slowly. He lays back flat on the bed as you continue to stroke him. You feel a little less pressure without him staring at you and focus on what’s in front of you. The hair surrounding the base is dark and curly, yet neatly groomed. His dick is almost the same color as the rest of his body, with a redder tint. You can see, up close, all the veins at work as he becomes harder in the palm of your hand. The tip is cut, pink, and dripping. You rub your thumb around it in circles, smearing the clear fluid around. 

He lets out a soft groan and sits back up on the bed.

He cups your face in his hand and strokes your cheeks. 

“Open your mouth,” he says. 

You slowly drop your jaw. His hands move to the back of your head and guide you forward. You close your eyes and try to remain calm and relaxed as you feel the tip of his dick at your lips.

He moves one of his hands to the base, and slides the tip of his dick around your lips before sliding it inside. With his other hand still behind your head, he pushes you further down. You put your hands on his thighs and start to resist when you feel you can’t take anymore in your mouth. 

He releases the pressure on the back of your head and you breathe out of your nose, adjusting to having so much of him in your mouth. It’s not your first blow job, but he’s a lot bigger than your ex and, you know, you hadn’t even kissed this man yet.

You start to stroke the base as your mouth focuses on the upper half. You move in unison, moving your hand up as your head draws back, then down as you take more of him in again. Your ex did not enjoy ‘sloppy’ blow jobs and all the saliva, but Chan seems to like it. You use the moisture that works up in your mouth to make it easier to glide along him. He groans as you start moving faster, and continues guiding your head with more force each time you descend. 

He grips his hand in your hair and you take that as a sign of encouragement to keep going. When you move your mouth to focus on just the tip as you continue stroking him with your hand, he releases your hair and falls back on the bed again. You suck only the tip, popping it out of your mouth like a lollipop and taking it inside again. 

“Fuck, y/n,” he croaks. 

Another sign of encouragement. You’ll have to take whatever words of acceptance you can get with him. 

You take your mouth off completely and use your tongue to lick upwards from the bottom to the top, gliding across the protruding vein there. When you go back to the base, his hand is on your head again, pushing you lower. Your eyes open wide as you see what he wants you to do. You straighten up to spit on his dick again and add moisture before returning back to his balls. You take one in your mouth, lightly sucking on it, then the other. 

“I knew it,” he breathes, seemingly talking to himself.

Knew what? You wonder. But you don’t stop. 

“Put your mouth back on my cock,” he says. 

You place your mouth back on him, moving up and down in synchronicity with your hand. Both of his hands go to your head, forcefully pushing you down as he bucks his hips up, groaning. 

He doesn’t warn you, so the first shot in your mouth startles you. You feel the warmth and taste the saltiness as he continues to thrust into your mouth. When his hips fall to the bed for the final time, you sit back on your legs. You’re not sure what to do next. You want to get up and run to the bathroom.

He sits back up, breathing heavily. The way he looks at you gives you some pause. He looks satisfied, relieved. He leans forward and kisses you briefly on the lips, apparently oblivious of the load you’re holding inside or something. When he leans back, your face is contorted as you gesture to your mouth. 

He shakes his head, careless of the expression you’re making. He places a finger under your jaw to keep it shut. 

“Swallow.”

You shake your head, but he doesn’t move his finger, he pushes up on your jaw harder, staring at you intently. You concede and move your heard forward slightly to make it easier to go down in one gulp. 

“Open.”

You open your mouth and show him nothing is there. 

“Good girl.” He pats your cheek before moving back on the bed towards his pillows, leaving you on your knees at the foot of the bed. “Get some sleep.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. So much for this situation being reciprocal. 

You shakily get to your feet, pick up your phone and retreat to your bed with the buttons of your shirt still undone. There’s no other way to describe how you're feeling—used. You slip underneath the blanket and immediately turn over to face the wall. You hear Chan get up a few minutes later and go to his bathroom. 

You let out a sigh when you believe he’s out of earshot. You signed up for this, but this…was not what you had expected. You imagine how this would have played out with Hyunjin. The two of you would have probably laughed together after your raunchy behavior and he would have held you as you fell asleep. You wish you were with him right now. You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to fall asleep.

You wake up the next morning once again to the sound of your alarm going off and frantically silence it. You peek over your shoulder to see Chan still sleeping in his bed. Yesterday when you were bright eyed and optimistic, you set this alarm to get up and cook for him. Even though he said he wasn’t big on eating breakfast—today is his birthday. You wanted to do something nice for him. Of course that was all prior to him blowing his load in your mouth and then sending you off to bed immediately after. You contemplate just staying in bed and not mentioning his birthday to him at all.

The way he’s treating you doesn’t just sting, it fucking hurts. If everyone in the house had the same demeanor, perhaps you could understand it better—that they all are cold. But, no, everyone else has been nothing but nice to you. 

You have to reason with yourself that you can’t take his behavior personal. You’re here to perform certain duties and you can’t force or expect him to be affectionate with you. You shouldn’t take it as an offense. Easier said than done, though. 

You push the covers off and button up your shirt—you’d fallen asleep without ever fixing it—and make your way quietly down stairs. You stop on the second floor to brush your teeth, it’s desperately needed after last night. You feel yourself start to becoming angry at the thought. Did he enjoy knowing you’d spent the night with the taste of him lingering in your mouth? Why hadn’t you spoken up and said something…anything? Perhaps it falls back on being non-confrontational, but you’re also afraid of making him angry. You push the thoughts aside once again and wash your hands and face before heading to the kitchen.

The boys told you Chan really liked spam omelets so you’ll be making that for everyone, with rice. The distraction of prepping and cooking is a nice reprieve for your mind. You can’t focus on anything other than the task at hand. Some of the others file in soon after to keep you company. Or maybe they’re just waiting to eat. 

You’re finished within an hour. You make Chan a plate—rice on one side with furikake sprinkled on top, and the spam omelet on the other. You find a serving tray in the cabinet and place the plate and a glass of watermelon punch (another one of his favorites, you had been told) on it. The other’s start making their own plates and you head back upstairs to deliver Chan his breakfast in bed. The irony in this is not lost on you. Treating him like a goddamn king after he’d made you feel like a fucking harlot. 

When you get back to the room, he’s still sleeping. 

You sit the tray down at the foot of the bed. You had kinda hoped he’d be awake by now, as you’re not sure how he reacts to being woken up. You sit behind him on the bed and lightly shake him. He wakes easily and turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes half open. 

“Happy Birthday, Chan,” you say to him softly, forcing a smile. 

He takes a moment to adjust to being awake but promptly sits up on the bed, back against the pillows. 

“Thank you,” he replies, as his eyes fall on the tray of food. 

“I know you said you’re not big on breakfast but, I made you a spam omelet,” you say, reaching forward to grab the tray and drag it back towards him. 

He picks up the glass of juice and takes a long drink. 

“The others aren’t planning anything else today are they?” He asks warily, setting the glass back down. 

“Not that I know of…they said you’d kill them,” you shrug. 

“Good,” he nods. “You not eating?”

“There’s more downstairs…I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat alone or not.” You can’t bring yourself to add ‘with me’ in you response. 

He brings the tray closer to him and cuts a piece of the omelet with the fork. He adds a little bit of rice too, then holds the fork out to you, one hand cupped beneath it to catch anything that falls. 

You shake your head and try to push his hand away but he resists. 

“Open,” he says. 

You find this alarming—the rate at which your mouth drops open at his behest. He puts the fork in your mouth and you close your lips around it, drawing back to take the food from it.

He smiles at you then, a real smile. For the first time that you can remember since you’ve been here. His eyes are puffy from sleep so they get even smaller with his cheeks pressed up and you see he has a deep set of dimples. Before you can stop it, you feel your eyes begin to prickle. 

You recognize the onslaught of the water works and quickly stand from the bed. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to know that this small act of kindness felt like so much more to you after how he’s made you feel the past couple of days.

“Please, eat. Enjoy. I’ll see you later,” you say in a rush and head for the door before he can say anything to stop you. 

You don’t know if he calls after you as you speed down the hallway, wiping the lone tear that falls from your eye.

Later, you catch a ride to campus with Felix and Allie for your afternoon class, happy for another distraction to keep your thoughts of Chan at bay. You ride back home with Changbin and Seungmin who are adamant about having pizza for dinner. They advise you of Chan’s favorite place to order from—another birthday treat for him. They make a stop on the way home for beer and alcohol to celebrate. You’re wary of their choice but they tell you since it’s just those in the house in attendance, he won’t be upset about it. 

Back at the house, you lounge on the sofa watching TV with some of the others until Hyunjin arrives home around 3:00pm. He sits next to you and takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You lean your head on his shoulder and place your other hand on his arm. You appreciate his consistency and how easy it is to just be yourself without second guessing anything around him.

“How was last night?” He asks quietly.

“It was fine,” you lie.

“See? You were worried for nothing." He drapes his other arm across your side, pulling you closer to him. 

You’re thankful he can’t see your face. You don’t know if the Chan you’re experiencing is different than the one he knows, or if he fully knows what you’re going through and doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. Either way, you keep it to yourself. 

As more people start to return home, the birthday festivities begin. One case of beer is taken down to the basement to start beer pong and when Chan gets back, the alcohol bottles are cracked opened.

Everyone gathers in the kitchen to take a shot. Chan’s eyes meet yours for the first time since your awkward encounter this morning and you offer a polite smile. Hyunjin pulls you to stand between him and Chan and hands you a shot. You scrunch up your face and shake your head. 

“If I have to celebrate, everyone has to drink,” Chan says matter-of-factly. 

You grab the shot glass in one hand, and hold a can of Coke in the other. 

Lee Know loudly clears his throat before addressing the room. 

“To our fearless and humble leader,” he begins and Han snorts at his words, “We’re thankful to have spent another year with you as our chapter president. We can’t imagine anyone else in your place.”

“Speak for yourself,” Changbin pipes up, causing everyone to chuckle. 

“To another year, and many more to come.” He raises his glass in the air and everyone else follows suit before tossing back the shot. 

You grimace and groan as the burning liquid slides down your throat. 

“Good girl,” Chan says to you quietly, placing a hand on your side.

Your shirt is also tied up the way Jeongin showed you, so his fingers are able to freely roam over the exposed skin there. You tense up at the feeling—this public display. Has he gotten over whatever was bothering him? Did he really just need to release some sexual tension? Or does he just become happier when he drinks?

You don’t have to wait long to find out the answer to the latter. As the evening carries on and everyone moves down to the basement, there’s simultaneous games of beer pong and pool being played. Chan is laughing, smiling, and hugging his fraternity brothers and it’s kind of blowing your mind. 

As he stands behind Lee Know, hands wrapped around his waist and chin wresting on his shoulder as Jeongin says something that makes him laugh, you feel like you’re seeing something you shouldn’t. Who is this person? This can’t be the same guy that made you want to cry yourself to sleep yesterday.

You’re not sure if you should question it, maybe you should just be thrilled that he seems more carefree, perhaps not as weighed down by the responsibility of being the fraternity president tonight. Maybe he’ll be nicer tonight when it’s just the two of you up in his room.

You have another shot when everyone else takes one and have a mixed drink as you play beer pong with Hyunjin as your partner. The overall mood in the house is positive, everyone is having a good time. At one point you spot I.N. and his assignee, Charlotte, making out in the corner. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight—Han was right. 

When the pizza arrives, you help Seungmin and Felix carry all the boxes down to the basement. You go through the boxes to find the one you ordered specifically for Chan and take it to him where he’s sitting at the bar. Thankfully, Seungmin and Changbin had been with you when you placed the order so you could make sure to get what he likes.

“For you, birthday boy,” you say with a smile, holding the box out to him. He takes it from your hand with a lazy smile and sits it on the bar counter. 

Chan lifts the box open, stares at the pizza inside for no more than two seconds before shutting the box and pushing it away. All traces of his previous smile completely gone. 

“Pineapple?” He forces the word out with a look of disgust, as though it pains him. 

Changbin and Seungmin burst into laughter behind you. You whip your head around and throw a glare in their direction. They played you. They planned for this moment to happen since this afternoon. As they remain doubled over in laughter you press your lips into a firm line and slowly nod your head. You will remember this.

You turn back to face Chan.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, “there’s literally every other kind of pizza you can imagine. What can I get you?”

 “Just plain pepperoni is fine,” he says with a shrug. 

You turn to retrieve him a box, but he catches your wrist to stop you, pulling you back towards him. Since he’s sitting down, you’re right at eye level with him. 

“You can’t be so gullible,” he says softly. “That’s gonna cost ya.”

He lightly taps you on the ass before jerking his head in the direction of the other pizza boxes and sending you on your way. 

He’s making pineapple on pizza sound like a cryptic deadly sin. As you plate him up some pepperoni pizza, his last words linger in your mind. You turn to look back at him, his eyes are on you from across the room. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes meet his and he smirks. What is this innocent mistake going to cost you?

[ read chapter four here ]

a/n: i may be having a little too much fun with this chan. like, comment & reblog to keep fueling my writing fire :)

[theemporium]

and here we have my favourite wee softies, carlos and butterfly🥹enjow some marriage bliss!

series masterlist

.

You had seen Carlos in a variety of situations over the years you had known him, various of them being in medical situations. 

You had seen him go under intense medical checks before and after each of the races. 

You had seen him after particularly bad crashes that left him winded and disoriented and a little worse for wear. 

You had seen him when he was sick with the flu, bedridden and whiny and desperate to just be held by you. 

You thought that after so many years of marriage and even more spent together as a couple, that you had truly seen it all with Carlos Sainz. You didn’t think there would be any more new levels to your husband that you would ever come to learn—as naive as it sounded. You thought you had seen him in every version of himself. 

And then, he had to get his wisdom teeth removed.

Your husband was stupidly stubborn in the most bizarre and unsuspecting situations, and it turned out this was just another one of those. Despite the pain in his gums, Carlos was adamant that he was fine. He was adamant that he was being very normal, that he totally wasn’t wincing every time he kissed you and had definitely not been favouring colder foods over the last few days.

It had taken a week to convince him to go to the dentist. It had taken an hour of both you and the dentist convincing your husband that the procedure was necessary and the best option if he wanted to stop being in pain and not risk anything worse happening. It had taken a grumbling amount of apologies on the ride home and a homemade meal from Carlos for you to finally stop giving him the cold shoulder for his stubbornness. 

Everything had seemed normal when you drove him to the dentist practice (as hard as it was for him to accept he was in too much pain to drive) and kissed him softly before he headed in for the procedure. You honestly assumed it would be no different to the few times he had been given strong painkillers after a crash, you thought you were prepared. 

You were most certainly not.

“MI ALMA!” 

You tried to bite back your grin, shaking your head as you continued to rush around the kitchen.

“MI AMOR!” 

You snorted, grabbing the tray with both hands before you began making your way towards the living room where Carlos had been settled since he arrived home.

“Mi mariposa!” Carlos grinned, his blinks a little slow and his cheeks puffed out with the gauze inside, but he was still the prettiest boy you had ever seen. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I told you I’d be five minutes,” you said with a soft smile as you placed the tray down on the coffee table, a bowl of soup and a spoon lying on it. “You need to eat.” 

“I don’t want to,” he huffed out as he opened his arms for you, only to pout when you didn’t instantly climb into his arms.

“You have to eat before you have your next dose,” you reminded him as you nodded towards the soup. “C’mon, I’ll help you.”

“Mi amor, the only thing I need is your hugs,” Carlos stated like his words were matter-of-fact and weren’t slightly slurred. He sounded exasperated, like your refusal to hug him was the biggest inconvenience in the world—despite the fact you had been cuddling the boy since you two got back from the dentist. “Not soup.”

“It’s your favourite,” you bargained. “Tell you what. If you eat the whole bowl, you can have me for the rest of the night.”

His glossy puppy dog eyes looked up at you. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you nodded. 

You laughed as Carlos scrambled to sit up, already reaching for the bowl as you let out a laugh—one that made him smile a bit wider. You slapped his hands away, reminding him to take the gauze out before you grabbed the bowl and the spoon, already gathering a spoonful to feed your husband.

.

[mezzy-1]

Hii🤍 Hope you’re having a amazing day!!

Can you do jealousy with Iso please??(can be headcanons or fic)

Thankss💕

Withering Lilac

First time I've really been asked to write something more conflict heavy, and I was ecstatic to add in some angsty Iso. Hope you enjoy the fic/headcanons for Iso being jealous around the reader!

You and Iso hadn’t met before Valorant picked both of you for the protocol.  When you did meet, it was like oil and water

Iso was cool, reserved.  You had a habit of trying to make friends wherever you went.  It was like that for a while until Iso finally let his guard down

Hanging out with the other agents was what finally got him to open up.  Eventually you and him even spent some time together as friends, just on occasion though

Unknown to you, you had left quite an impression on Iso

A few days later, some of the younger agents had gathered for a night out.  Seeing as they could go anywhere, they settled on Barcelona

Clubbing, drinking, and a few minor felonies wrapped up a night of shot fueled fun, and you had began making your way to the hostel with Phoenix and Iso

“Hey, Y/N!” Phoenix leaned off of a street light along the path.  “You ever think about dating?”

Iso halted before you did

“Are you proposing we go on a date Jamie?  I’m open to it, but I’ll need to warm up to it.”

“Well…” he leaned forwards, “How’s this for warm.” he giggled drunkenly

He pulled up his shirt to reveal his abs, running flames over them before flexing his biceps

You moved closer and raised an eyebrow and let the anticipation build

“That was the worst pickup attempt I have ever heard.  You really are drunk!” you laughed with Phoenix.  It was harmless flirting and at most, an attempt that failed

“You’re cute Y/N.  Don’t forget it, yeah?”

“Remind me if I forget Jamie.”

Iso kept quiet, pretending not to notice while a knot tied itself in his stomach

“Why am I feeling like this?  It’s only Phoenix and Y/N flirting a bit.  I know I don’t care, I’ve never cared before so why start?”

The morning brought with it a nasty hangover and more questions than answers, but you had no time for that as you returned to the protocol

While packing, Iso came in to check up on you

“Y/N, you want any help?” he asked.  You shook your head and he rested by the door

“Hey, do you remember walking home with me and Phoenix last night?”

“Uhh…” the memory was hazy, “Sort of.  He said something stupid and we all laughed about it like usual.”

Iso cocked his head, then began to pack his own room up

“They don’t remember, but could they just be saying that?” he muttered to himself

The next couple of weeks Iso put more and more distance between you and Phoenix.  It was subtle, just declining a few events or leaving sooner

You just assumed he had other things.  He mainly just stayed away and cleaned his arsenal while repeating to himself he wasn’t feeling discarded

One day you and him were returning from a mission in Lima, and stopped for food in the Barrio Chino district.  You and him got to gossiping about the other agents 

“I will say, Omen has changed a lot in my eyes from what I expected him to be.  I thought he was without remorse, but I see him try to fit in all the time despite his past.”  Iso’s fondness for Omen was unmistakable when he spoke of him

“He’s been through a lot.  Oh!  Did you see he knitted another hat for Killjoy!  Like it’s way too wide.”

“He made Raze a scarf that was huge too.  The pink, white and orange one.  Phoenix said it looked like she got it at the ‘long bacon store.’  Bad joke, but that’s Phoenix.”  

Iso seemed to stare for a bit before coming back to the conversation

“Did I tell you that Brimstone is having him and I do some undercover work together.  We’re gonna go to New York for a bit and do some investigation!  I’m so excited.”

That knot buried in Iso strained against him, and tore at his inner calm.  Inside he was wincing at a pain he couldn’t understand

“That sounds wonderful Y/N.  How long have you been hanging out together?”

“Phoenix was the first guy to really make me feel accepted at the protocol.  We’ve been close since the first day I was there.”

When the food arrived, the conversation slowed down.  By the time you were flying back to the HQ, the air was practically dead between you and Iso

Before you left for the mission with Phoenix, you had to deal with a spike attack in Sunset

“Iso, wait for Phoenix and I!” you cried over the radio.  He had decided to take on a squad by himself

“I don't want your help or his.” he spat back

When you arrived, he had his back turned to you and was surrounded by bodies.  You went to confront him but he brushed past you, purple hexagons shielding him

About a week later, you had enough of him ignoring you and keeping his distance from everyone and went to his room

Neon lights and charms decorated an otherwise neat room.  Guns stored in racks hung from walls like art installations, and Iso sat at a chair across from you cleaning one

“Why are you here Y/N?”  Iso’s glare felt like an insurmountable fortress

“Because you’ve been acting weird.  You were always quiet but now it’s like you hate being around me!”

“Maybe I do.”

“What did I do?”  You asked desperately.  Iso tried to dismiss it but you drilled until you hit something

“Forget this I’ve got a mission to prep for with Phoenix.”  

Iso flinched

“What you got a problem with Phoenix now too?”

“And if I do?”

“Then it makes you petty and jealous.”

Iso froze.  Suddenly a rush of feelings was untied and lashed out inside of him.  He understood clearly what he had been feeling

“You don’t think I want to be close to you too?  Phoenix can just show up and you start smiling, laughing.  I feel like I wasn’t enough to be with you!”

“Is this about something more than being friends?  You know I like being around you, well I did and then you ended up pulling away.”

“I should have thought about that, Y/N… I- I just couldn’t see that.” 

“Apologize, now.”

“I’m sorry,” he paused to look into your eyes, “I was jealous of him, and wasn’t thinking clearly.  I want to be closer than friends Y/N.” 

“Wait,” you had already registered the apology but the confession took you off guard

“Y/N, I’d like to make it up to you.  Whatever you name, it’s yours and I’ll never do this again.”

You sat in silence, Iso beginning to resign himself to the mistake he had made.  In the end, you forgave him knowing he’d keep his word

“I’ll accept your apology, but I didn’t know you were interested in me.  Why didn’t you say anything?��

“I was worried you wouldn’t want to, and that it would make it awkward around everyone.  Not that what I did was any better…”

“True, but now that you know Phoenix and I aren’t a couple, what’s stopping you?  I know now so I’m kind of expecting you to ask me out.”

“You’d still consider it after all I’ve done?”

“Iso, you said you’d do anything.  Take me out then.”

“If it’s what you want Y/N, I can have dinner ready tonight.”

“It’s a date, but don’t you ever start feeling jealous like that again.  For both of us.”

[avatar-anna]

Just a Taste

i was feeling inspired and i missed the young dadrry universe. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

*.*

"Harry Edward Styles, don't you touch that!"

Harry's hand paused on his way to a mixing bowl filled with royal icing, a guilty look on his face. He really thought he'd been quiet enough to sneak past her. "Come on, Mama. Just a little taste?"

Y/n pinned her husband with a stare until his hand backed away. He went over to where she was rolling out dough with a rolling pin, a mix of holiday themed cookie cutters scattered around her. Flour coated her hands and arms, and a little had found its way to her cheek. Harry quickly wiped it away as he came around, his arms circling around her waist as he kissed the spot her flour had been.

He continued to kiss her until a smile appeared on her face and she finally stopped what she was doing to rest her hands on top of his, which had been Harry's goal, of course. She'd been up before he was to bake cookies, and he was feeling thoroughly ignored.

"Don't think by distracting me you'll get what you want," Y/n said, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry continued to nuzzle her neck.

"Think I want something else now," he murmured. Harry reached beneath her sweater, splaying his fingers along her heated skin. He knew every inch of her by now, each and every place that was the most sensitive and would make her arch into him or sigh contentedly. He wanted to reacquaint himself upstairs while they had time. "Come on. Simone's down for her nap. We can sneak upstairs for a little while."

Y/n all but melted at the promise in his voice, but she held fast. "I have to get this done. I told my parents I would bring cookies to their party."

Ah, there it is, Harry thought.

This was the first time Y/n, Harry, and Simone would be spending Christmas with Y/n's family. For the last couple years they spent the holidays in London with his family, but her parents reached out for a chance to start over and make amends this year. Y/n hadn't wanted to accept, but Harry encouraged her to at least hear them out. It had been years since she'd seen them, and even though things had been rocky when she left home, he thought both her and her family deserved a chance to set things right.

Plus, who would be able to resist Simone? She was the most perfect kid on the planet. It would be impossible not to love her, let alone hold any resentment over her.

"Everything is going to be just fine, my love," Harry promised. "Why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

Harry felt her body slouch as she exhaled a long sigh. Y/n turned in the circle of his arms and came to rest against him. She didn't say anything for a while, just relaxed against him while she gathered her thoughts.

She smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and over the top of her head, he spotted the gingerbread cookies she made earlier cooling on racks on the stove. They were his favorites, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on a couple of the miniature gingerbread men she'd cut the cookies into. Y/n had a knack for baking that really only came out around the holidays. Harry never thought he'd had a sweet tooth, but he had a weak spot for his wife's baked goods, and if his schedule was slow she spoiled him and Simone with all kinds of sweets. It was enough to make him work out for weeks after the holidays.

Before his thoughts got too carried away, Harry looked back at Y/n. He tipped her head up so she had to look him in the eye. He kissed her nose once, then her forehead, then her lips, until a small smile appeared. "Talk to me, Mama."

She sighed again, but this time she spoke. "I just...I want them to know that I'm doing a good job, I want them to know I'm a good mom."

"What? Baby, you're a fantastic mum," Harry said, a frown marring his features. That's what this is about? "You don't need their stamp of approval, Y/n."

"I know, I know. It's just that we're raising Simone so differently to how I grew up, and that's fine she's a great kid," Y/n explained. "I just don't want to give them any ammunition to judge how we're living our lives, you know? Making memories around the holidays were huge for me growing up. Christmas cards, decorating the tree, cookies, matching sweaters, and I—I don't want them to think Simone is growing up without that. I—I know it's stupid, but—"

"It's not stupid if that's how you feel," Harry said, cupping her cheek. His eyes searched hers, trying to decide if there was more that she wasn't saying. He'd become quite good at reading her, and he decided there wasn't. "But I don't think Simone is missing out on anything. Do you?"

Y/n shook her head. "She's happy, right? I know we don't lead the most conventional lifestyle, but she's happy, isn't she?"

"I'd say so. And hey, conventional's overrated. Remember when Niall dressed up as Santa so we could have a family picture? Or when we brought a Christmas tree with us on tour so we could put Simone's presents under it?"

Y/n grinned at the memories. "Or when the boys covered for us so we could sneak out and go to a Christmas market."

"I don't remember that one," Harry said as his brow furrowed.

Stretching up onto her toes, Y/n kissed his cheek. "That's because we never actually made it to the Christmas market."

"That's right! Simone was in Liam's room, and we stayed in, and you were wearing that little red set with the bows—"

Y/n kissed him properly this time, her arms crossing around his neck to bring him closer. His skin was soft and freshly shaven, a preference of Y/n's as she brought her hands to his face, though Harry had been trying to grow a little facial hair during his time off. He probably could've stayed like that all day, but he knew there was work to be done, and Y/n would be upset with herself if her icing went to waste.

"Let's get these cookies done and then head upstairs, hm?" he said even as Y/n began to kiss up and down his neck and his hands slid past her waist.

"Then get your hands off my ass, Styles."

"As soon as you untangle yourself from me, L/n," he said.

When she finally did, Y/n's lips were swollen, and her hair was a little messy. But she looked relaxed, not as tense as she had been when Harry came downstairs.

"Where do you need me?" he asked her, going to the sink to wash his hands before slinging an apron over his neck. "I can help with the baking part. I did work in a bakery, you know."

"Don't get me started," she murmured before offering the rolling pin. "Cookie cutting or decorating?"

"Mm...cutting. And maybe we save some just for us and Simone to do later?"

Y/n's grin was as wide as he'd ever seen it, which practically melted his heart into a puddle of goo at his feet. "Yeah?"

"Course, Mama. Between us, our little tyke is bound to be a baking genius."

Y/n rolled her eyes and swatted him with the towel that had been over her shoulder. They got to work, music playing on speakers, but low enough to hear Simone through the baby monitor if she woke up. Harry stole glances at Y/n as she got to work decorating the gingerbread men. He knew she was nervous, but he was thrilled that everything was starting to fall into place. Harry was home now that the band was on hiatus, Y/n was starting to mend her relationship with her parents, and Simone was about to get everything she asked Santa for and then some. At four years old, she didn't ask for much, but she had lots of uncles who were eager for a reason to shower her with gifts.

To Harry, everything was perfect.

Or, nearly perfect. Once the last batch of cookies were cooling and Y/n had decorated enough gingerbread men to take to her parents' house, Harry hauled her upstairs. "I still have that cute little set that you love so much," she murmured as she hastily pulled off his shirt. Excitement zinged through Harry at the thought, but he was too eager.

"Next time," he promised, falling back against the pillows, decorative ones Y/n had bought the week before.

"How do you want me?" she asked him, crawling to his side to run a hand through his hair. When he didn't respond right away, her brow furrowed. "H? Am I losing you?"

"No, I'm trying to think how much time we have before we're inevitably interrupted," he said.

"And then we have to get ready," Y/n said with a sigh, flopping on the bed next to him so that they were shoulder to shoulder. "Kiss and cuddle?"

Harry grinned. "You read my mind, Mama."

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ YOU SAY "I LOVE YOU" FIRST.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairings. dan heng, gepard, jing yuan x gn!reader

content warnings. fluff, written in lowercase, not edited/proofread

word count. 0.7k

notes. head empty only hsr men ;-;

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ dan heng. 

it happens on a mission, with just dan heng and you visiting the planet in need of help. until now, you haven’t encountered any major problems and you’re already wrapping up. instead of focusing on gathering more information, the two of you take the evening off, to enjoy some time together. all alone, without your friends butting in, without himeko interrupting you with a sly smirk, without dan heng focusing on ancient text instead of you. 

hand in hand you walk along the busy streets, admiring the many products in display, children running around. a small smile forms on dan heng’s lips, his eyes bright and you can’t help but think how beautiful he is. 

he’s beautiful and yours, yours to love, yours to cherish and how you cherish him. his soft spoken words, his dry humor, his ‘nerdiness’ as march always says. does he know how much you love him? despite not being a pair for too long, despite being his lover for mere weeks, you know with your whole heart— you love him. 

“i love you,” is what you blurt out then, watch how he stops walking, how his eyes widen, how a blush spreads on his cheeks. “i love you,” you repeat, more soft spoken this time. 

“i love you too,” he whispers back, pressing a kiss on the hand, he has held the entire time. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ gepard. 

loving gepard is as easy as breathing. you have done so for so many years, admiring and loving him from the distance, watching how he goes after his duties as captain of the silvermane guards. 

you love him for his sense of duty, both to his noble house and the silvermane guards. you love him for his soft spoken manners, yet firm when needed. you love him for his gentle heart, for his desire to protect his home. 

you loved him and you continue to love him when he takes you out on your first date. you loved him and continue to love him when you share your kiss, when you go on your second and third date, when you officially become a couple. 

you loved gepard for a long time and you will continue to love him, with your whole heart and mind. 

it’s why you say it, after mere weeks of dating, it’s why you say you love him. maybe he has already suspected it, you don’t know, so you gather your courage and utter those words when you're on another date. 

“i love you, gepard,” you say with a clear and strong voice, turning your head to him. “i love you”, you say once again, watch how he ducks his head to hide his blush, how he raises his trembling hands, placing them on your cheeks, oh so careful as if he could break you. 

“i love you,” you whisper, after his lips leave yours, breath mingling, his ice blue eyes softening at your words. he presses his forehead against yours, shuffling closer, closer to you. 

“i love you too, my dear.”

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ jing yuan. 

being the hopeless romantic partner of the general jing yuan was something out of your daydreams. but it truly happened, in a whirlwind of emotions, you got closer to the man of your dreams. so close that he held your hand with a soft smile, spoiling you with lavish gifts and lingering kisses. 

how could you not fall for him, your affectionate emotions turning into a bright, passionate love for him. how could you not love him, when he holds you close, protecting you even if there isn’t any danger near. 

hopelessly in love you are, with jing yuan, head over heels— your heart is his, not that he knows. maybe he suspects it, chuckling at your meek stutters when he has stunned you with a particularly intense kiss once again. 

while jing yuan showers you with gifts and his affection, the only thing you can give him is your love. oh and how you wish for him to acknowledge it, the deep deep love you hold for him. 

i love you, is what you think, when you share your daily meal. 

i love you, is what you think, when he takes your hand in his, tracing the mindless lines on your skin with his fingers.

“i love you,” is what you say when jing yuan comes back from a mission. he greets you with a soft smile and before he can say anything, you tell him how much you love him. 

“i love you too, beloved mine.”

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ARKHAM MAID 2023