#i still am not going to do anything about it and just hope it will go away

[ja3yun]

Pillow Talk | L.HS

bf!heeseung x gf!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), nipple play, mentions of alcohol and insecurities, pet names (baby), not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! w.c: 6.2k synopsis: after a night out with friends, heeseung's insecurities surface, making him question his worth as a boyfriend. with some reassuring pillow talk and a night spent wrapped in one another, he's determined to prove himself a/n: hi! happy valentine's day to my loves <33 i hope you spend the day surrounded by love - romantic or platonic. i love valentine's day more than anything so this is my gift to you! if you think you've read it before, it's because you have! this is a reupload that won the poll so enjoy!

“Baby?”

A soft, lazy groan vibrates through the stillness of the room. Your body which is still heavy with sleep feels the tender pressure of a hand shaking your arm gently, followed by the familiar brush of petal-soft lips against your shoulder. The gesture is soft but something about the way he calls for you feels different, slightly urgent even though there is no panic in his tone.

“Baby, can you wake up for a minute?”

There’s something off in Heeseung’s voice - something unsure and a tad bit unsteady. His breath catches, then leaves him in a long, heavy exhale, like he’s trying to let something go but can’t. Even with your eyes still closed, the sound of it tugs at your chest, finally stirring you from sleep. The last remnants of drowsiness fade, replaced by a quiet kind of worry.

You shift under the blankets, forcing your eyelids open. The world is still blurred at the edges, softened by sleep, but your focus lands on him immediately. From what you can make out thanks to the streetlight outside, his face looks drawn - tired, but more than that. Troubled.

A slow blink and rub of your eye clears the haze from your vision.

“Heeseung?” Your voice is quiet, thick with sleep but there’s an undercurrent of concern. “Are you okay, baby?”

The silence between you stretches and the silence of the midnight hour amplifies everything - the rustling of sheets, the hum of the city, the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric. 

He seems…nervous.

Last night, he’d gone out with friends. It was just supposed to be dinner, a break he’d needed after weeks of drowning in work and deadlines. But now, the faint flush on his cheeks and the pink along the bridge of his nose tell you he had more than just a couple - that much is obvious. What’s not obvious is why he’s still awake, sitting here like something’s eating away at him.

His hand drifts to your hair, sweeping a few strands away from your face, and for a brief second, his lips twitch, like he might smile. It’s something he does without thinking, a habit that’s settled into him over time. Even now, even like this, he pauses to take you in - soft, half-asleep, so stunningly beautiful.

Still, the weight in his eyes doesn’t lift.

“Hee,” you murmur, a little more awake now. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze drops. His lips part slightly, hesitation tightening his shoulders. Seconds drag by before he finally speaks.

“Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?”

The question makes you blink. Once. Then again.

“What?”

His eyes meet yours again, uncertain, searching for an answer without you having to utter a word. “Like…am I doing enough?”

That shakes the last bit of sleep from your mind. You sit up slowly, instinct guiding your hand to his chest, where his heartbeat is steady but tense under your palm. “Heeseung, of course you are. Why would you even ask that?”

The words even feel too simple for what you really mean. Because the truth is - he’s not just a good boyfriend. He’s everything.

Sure, there are hard days. Moments when life is messy, when you argue or when things feel overwhelming. But even when you test one another, he never makes you feel anything less than loved. It’s not just about grand gestures with him - it’s in the little things. The way he remembers details you don’t even remember telling him. The way he texts you just because. The way he looks at you when he thinks you won’t notice - like you’re irreplaceable.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most; seeing doubt where there should never be any.

Sitting here in the dim half-light, you can see the weight he’s carrying - the slight hunch of his shoulders, the way his lips press together like he’s holding something back. And yet, even through the uncertainty in his eyes, he’s still reaching for you. Not just for comfort, but to make sure you’re okay, too. Still scared he’s not the perfect boyfriend. 

That’s who Heeseung is. He loves deeply and gives even when he feels empty.

Your fingers trace gently along his jaw, warmth meeting warmth as you take him in. “Heeseung,” you murmur, steady, soft. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. You know that, right?” A pause, letting the words sink into him, but they don’t reach where you need them to. You try again, a little more pointed. “What’s going on, baby? What’s making you feel like this?”

His gaze flickers, doubt clouding his eyes, but your words seem to seep into the cracks, softening the tension in his face. The quiet between you is tough and unfamiliar. The bedroom you lay in is usually brimming with laughter. It’s so strange to see him like this.

Although you don’t have all the answers as to why he’s so heavy, you’ll hold him through whatever storm is brewing in his mind - just as he’s done for you more times than you can count.

Heeseung exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes drift, landing somewhere in the soft glow of the room before he finally speaks. “At dinner…the girls were talking about their boyfriends. About how they don’t really pay attention to them, or like, they never ask about their day, or forget things that matter. Always late, always distracted, y’know?”

“And what has that got to do with you?” You ask slowly, genuinely not seeing the correlation.

His brows knit together, lost in thought, and you can see the spiral beginning - the way he’s already picking apart every moment in your relationship, analysing each time he might have been tired, distracted, or anything less than perfect. You know him too well. His heart is so full of care that the idea of falling short - of disappointing you - feels absolutely unbearable.

But where he sees gaps, you only see love. Commitment. A kind of attentiveness that most people can only dream of. Genuinely, people yearn for a man like Heeseung, so it hurts to see him like this.

Heeseung has never been that boyfriend. The one who forgets anniversaries, who doesn’t show up when it matters, who brushes off your feelings like they’re an afterthought. If anything, he’s the opposite.

You remember the countless nights he’s sat with you, listening, no matter how exhausted he was, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he never lets a single date slip by unnoticed, whether it’s a quiet dinner out or a handwritten note tucked beside your coffee cup before he heads out. The way he remembers things you don’t even remember telling him - your favourite parts of a book, a song you mentioned offhand weeks ago, the smallest details that make you feel seen in a way no one else ever has.

A breath of laughter escapes you - soft, incredulous, not mocking but disbelieving. “Baby,” you say gently, warmth laced in every word. “Those things? The things they were talking about? That’s just…what most guys do at some point.”

At that, Heeseung shrinks a little, his shoulders drawing in as though your words only confirm his worst fears. His face falls, vulnerability flickering across his expression. You see the downward spiral start again, but before he can fall too deep, you reach for him. Your palm finds his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin in slow, reassuring strokes.

You don’t let him sit in those thoughts for long.

“But you - you’re the rare 0.0000001% that isn’t like that,” you continue, your voice steady and confident in your own declaration. “Hee, you listen to me even when I’m rambling about the same thing for the hundredth time. You show up for me, no matter how tired or stressed you are. I don’t think you’ve ever missed a date, let alone forgotten one.”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to argue, but the words don’t come. His eyes meet yours, uncertainty still lingering, but something in the way you’re looking at him keeps him quiet.

“You’ve never turned up late to anything, not once,” you add, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand drifts down, resting against his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is vibrating with love. “You’re thoughtful in ways those girls were probably wishing for when they were talking. And even when things get rough, you never make me feel like I’m alone in it. You’re always there, Heeseung. Always.”

Heeseung exhales, slow and deep, your words finally settling into him. There’s still hesitation in his eyes, but the pressure in his shoulders has shifted, loosened just a little. He shakes his head, the smallest of smiles ghosting across his lips. But you can tell - he’s still trying to let go of the doubt entirely.

“I just…” He pauses, glancing down as if searching for the right words. “I don’t ever want to take you for granted. I never want to be that guy who doesn’t pay attention. Who makes you feel like you’re not important.”

“You could never,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger just long enough to feel the warmth of him. “The fact that you want to be a good boyfriend already proves that you are one.”

Heeseung lets out a soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips as you peck his lips once more to punctuate your reassurances. He bites his lip, giving you that boyish, slightly embarrassed smile that always makes your heart flutter.

“You think so?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s seeking reassurance even though he knows he’s already got it.

You raise an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I know so,” you tease, letting your fingers trace gentle circles on his chest. “I mean, come on - how many boyfriends out there get worried in the middle of the night about whether they’re doing enough for their girlfriends? You’re basically setting the bar impossibly high for everyone else.”

Heeseung chuckles again, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Oh, so now I’m the standard, huh?”

“You’re more than the standard, you’re the dream.”

Grinning widely, your boyfriend leans in to kiss you once again, this time more confident and at ease. It’s not like Heeseung to be vulnerable like this, the mix of alcohol and the early hours playing a massive part in his sudden change in behaviour. But he is so thankful that you aren’t judging him or deflecting his concerns in a passive moment even though you could have. It speaks volumes of your love and adoration for him, and that makes him feel more loved than anything else in the world.

His pretty lips melt with yours, your love blooming through each passing breath and brush of his nose with yours. His palms find a place on your waist as he guides you to crawl onto his lap, the sheets that were keeping you warm in your cocoon of sleep now long gone, the heat from Heeseung’s love now flooding your bloodstream. 

His hands slide up your waist, fingers exploring the curve of your sides before resting at the small of your back. The heat of his touch burns through the thin fabric of your pyjamas, setting you alight under his fingertips. He pulls you closer, guiding you to straddle his lap with ease and you can feel the beat of his heart and the ridge of his cock all at once - lust and love both present.

The kiss deepens and you find yourselves in a rhythm, the kind where neither of you is in a rush, savouring the moment for all it’s worth. His lips move with yours in an intoxicating way, every caress from his tongue sends shivers along your spine. He tastes like something familiar, something safe and beautiful - like home.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, his voice dripping in longing, each word brushing against your lips like a secret meant only for you. His breath fans over your face and the way he speaks, the pure adoration in his tone, makes your chest swell with so much emotion you feel like you might physically combust. It’s a confession he’s made a thousand times yet each time it feels like the first because he means it just as heavily each time.

If there was ever a reason for your heart to exist, for your lungs to keep breathing, it is to love Heeseung. Your heart is to keep you alive, but if you can't love him like this, there's no reason for it to keep pumping.

Nodding at his confession, you smile against his lips, a sound of contentment escaping you as you press closer to his chest, wanting to feel every inch of him. You want to be as close as physically possible to this man. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your love into it. 

“I love you too, Hee,” you whisper between kisses, your voice low, filled with a yearning ache that matches his. “Always.”

His hands tighten around you, holding you as though you might slip away, his kisses becoming more urgent, more desperate. It’s the last few worries working through his brain, finding an escape in your comforting embrace.

Hands roaming your now fully alert body, Heeseung grips and caresses every inch of you he can, his fingers dancing along your back as his nails drag down ever so gently, just enough for you to feel the bite. He needs you under his skin. He needs you part of him. He needs you full stop.

Every brush of his lips, every gentle tug of your lower lip, every graze of his teeth sends a thrill through you, making your skin hum with electricity. His hand moves up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with emotion, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“I know we just had a sappy moment and I don’t want this to take away from it, but I’m horny as fuck right now.”

A sharp laugh escapes you, breaking through the moment, and you shake your head at Heeseung's bluntness, though the heat in the room is unmistakable. His words might’ve caught you off guard, but they don’t surprise you - it’s just so him to switch from vulnerability to desire. One of the many, many, reasons you adore him.

You grin goofily at him, your hands still tangled in his hair. “Oh, really?” you tease, your voice light but laced with that same unspoken tension that’s been building between you. “I never would have guessed with your cock poking my thigh.”

You both look down and see Heeseung’s member semi-hard, concealed only by his boxers. It makes you bite your lip in lust as you reply moments that his thick cock has taken you to the stars, has made you arch your back as your heart tries to leap from your chest and shout how much you love his inches pounding into you.

Heeseung's cheeks flush a deep pink, only adding to the alcohol flush he still has blushing over his features, but that signature mischievous grin appears on his face, his embarrassment melting into amusement. He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking between your teasing gaze and the obvious evidence of his desire pressing against you.

"Well," he says, his voice dropping an octave, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, "you can’t blame me, can you? I mean, look at you." His tone is playful, but there’s no mistaking the hunger behind his words as his eyes drag over your body, drinking in every inch of you. His lips find their way to your neck, teeth working in tandem to nip at your skin before he speaks again. “Y’know, I guess I should prove that I’m a good boyfriend, not just say it.”

A part of you wants to tell him that he proves it every day, that he is even proving it right now, but you know what this will lead to and you’ll be damned if you don’t let him continue. So you play along, smirking as you feel his mouth move south, kissing over your collarbone.

“I think you should,” you giggle out in a moan as his teeth sink into you. The sound escapes your lips, a mixture of laughter and desire, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound, a primal response that only fuels the fire igniting between you both. 

Any noise you make is Heeseung’s favourite song.

With a swift motion, Heeseung peels your tank top off, revealing your breasts. He ogles at them, memorising every mark, line, and curve of them as if he doesn’t study them every day. If he was set the challenge to draw them from memory, he could pass with flying colours.

Attaching his mouth to your right nipple, he teasingly bites around the peak and flicks it with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently as though he’s savouring a fine wine; your body has the same effect as alcohol on him anyway. 

The sensation sends an electric jolt through you, arching your back and pushing your chest further into him, a silent plea for more. Heeseung's hands grab hold of your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin, heightening the atmosphere in the room.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin, punctuating each word with soft kisses. The way he admires you - like you’re a masterpiece and he’s not even worthy to be standing in the museum you decorate - fills you with a sense of pride. You never feel more beautiful or worthy than when you’re in your boyfriend’s arms. 

You can’t help but tilt your head back, surrendering to the desire-filled feeling crashing over you as he lavishes the skin on your body.

His mouth moves from your breast to your collarbone, trailing kisses that leave a path of fire in their wake. As he nips at your skin, you feel a rush of warmth pool low in your belly, the heady mix of desire and adoration overwhelming. Heeseung's fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to him, and you can feel the way his body responds to yours - hard and insistent against your thigh. 

“Am I proving myself?” he asks playfully, pulling back to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with lust and mischief. His lips glisten slightly, and you can’t help but admire how he looks at this moment - wild and undone, completely lost in the taste of you.

“More than you know,” you breathe, a smile creeping onto your lips as you lean in closer, brushing your nose against his. The closeness feels intoxicating, every heartbeat syncing with his own. “But I think there’s a way you can really prove it to me.”

With a playful glint in your eye, you push him back gently, manoeuvring him to lie flat against the sheets of your shared bed. You straddle him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips as you trap him. 

Leaning down, you place a teasing kiss on his lips before trailing your mouth lower, down his chest, relishing every inch of skin you encounter. He tastes like a mix of his body wash and perfume. You take your time, letting your lips brush against his abs, ghosting and teasing while feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips as you draw nearer to where you want to be.

“This doesn’t feel like me proving I’m a good boyfriend if you’re doing all the work,” he laughs, his voice rich with playful sarcasm.

“Just relax,” you murmur, looking up at him through your thick lashes, “I’ve got this.” With that, you grip the waistband of his boxers and edge them down, revealing him fully. The sight of his arousal makes your heart race even faster. Fuck, he’s so delicious. The air is thick with tension and anticipation, and as you wrap your fingers around him, the knowing of what’s to come sends shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t I-”

You interrupt him, your voice playful yet sultry, “I’m literally in love with your cock, so if you want to ‘prove’ you’re a good boyfriend, you’ll let me suck it.” You smile innocently up at your boyfriend, and the mischievous glint in your eyes only heightens the intensity surrounding you.

 When you say you love his cock, that isn’t even enough to convey just how much you worship it.

For the past year, this single cock has taken you to heaven and back, lifting you past the clouds and into galaxies that haven’t even been explored yet. Heeseung has done more for your pleasure than any self-exploration or rose toy could ever hope to give you. If he wants to talk about women’s complaints about their boyfriends, unsatisfying sex is more common than not, and he has yet to disappoint you.

When you first started dating, the chemistry between you was so strong that you found yourselves lost in each other’s arms on the very first date. Even then, while you still had so much to learn about one another - your likes and dislikes, how you moved with one another - Heeseung somehow pressed every button inside you, fine-tuning spots you hadn’t even discovered. He is so attuned to your needs, both physically and mentally.

That is how you know he is a cut above the rest.

With a teasing grin, you peel his boxers down further, whisking them off and throwing them to the floor. You take a moment to admire him, the way his dick stands eager and glistening. It’s a sight that always sends a rush of heat straight to your cunt, making it purr and mewl out to be stuffed.

Leaning in closer, you let your breath ghost over the tip of his bell, watching as he shakes out a breath in response. The tension in his body is palpable and it fuels your desire even more. You love to see him wriggle beneath you - it makes you feel good. Probably a people-pleaser trait that you’ve developed. But if it’s Heeseung? You want to do your very most to please.

You give him a slow, teasing lick, starting from the base and moving up to the tip, taking your time to savour the taste of him. A low groan escapes his lips, and the sound makes your heart race, sending a thrill of pleasure coursing through you.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his voice thick with desire, “you really don’t have to-”

But you cut him off again, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I want to,” you assure him, your voice a whisper as you lean in, capturing his tip in your mouth. The warmth of you envelops him, and you hollow your cheeks, sucking gently as you begin to take him deeper.

Heeseung’s hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through it as he guides you softly, his breaths turning into heavy pants. You love the way he watches you, eyes dark and filled with admiration and lust. As you take him deeper, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, teasing and tantalising him, every flick sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Gathering your hair into a ponytail and threading his fingers through your strands to make sure he doesn’t miss a bit, he begins to tie your hair up. He does this; one, so he can see your pretty lips wrapping around him, and two, because he knows how annoyed you get when your hair is in your face. It’s partly the reason why he always carries a bobble on his wrist, for spontaneous times like this. 

The black bobble has come in handy more times than he can count; parties, work events, in the car, you name it. You love to suck his cock, there was no denying it, and you will take any opportunity, hence why he is always prepared.

With each slow movement, you can feel Heeseung tense. You watch him closely, revelling in the way his mouth falls open, struggling to find the words to express what he’s feeling - though, his face does enough explaining. His chest rises and falls, each breath coming faster than the last as you continue to work your mouth around him. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he tries to keep control. You can sense his yearning and quite honestly, it makes you feel so powerful. With every moment that passes, you grow more determined to show him just how much he means to you.

You start to pick up the pace, your head moving faster as you slide him deeper into your mouth, allowing your lips to wrap around him snugly. You can feel the muscles in his thighs tense, his body urging you on as he struggles not to bust a load in your mouth right here and now. The raw desperation in his eyes only ignites your need for him, and you find yourself lost in the rhythm of it, moving in sync with the unspoken connection between you.

“Y/N, please, I’ll not last long,” he murmurs, his voice thick with the urge as he bites his lip, a look of pleasure painting his features. You can tell he’s holding back, wanting to let go but trying to let you take your time. The contrast of his restraint against your eagerness sends a rush of heat through you, and you can feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips as you squeeze his thighs.

Instead of slowing down, you push him fully down your throat, the bell of his cock sitting exactly where your voicebox is located, and you swallow. It’s something you know he loves more than anything and thanks to a lot of practice paired with patience from your boyfriend, you perfected it. 

Your throat gags at the intrusion of his cock as it tries to gulp down, Heeseung thrashes beneath you, holding in his breath and he tenses, toes curling in desperation. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he gasps out through gritted teeth, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming him. His fingers grip your hair tighter, a mix of pleasure and desperation coursing through him as he feels you take him deeper than ever. The warm heat enveloping him is almost too much to bear, and he can't help but thrust his hips slightly, seeking that delicious friction that drives him wild.

You can feel every shudder and quake of his body, the way he fights against the urge to let go. With each swallow, you tighten your throat around him, your body instinctively reacting to his need. The vibrations from your throat send delicious, torturous vibrations through his entire length, and you can tell he’s so fucking close.

“Y/N,” he moans, his voice laced with an intoxicating mix of desperation and awe. “You’re so fucking perfect.” The way he breathes your name is music to your ears, fueling your desire even more. The rasp in his tone along with the tiny giggle that pushes out, showcases the glee he is feeling within himself. It’s a beautiful contrast to how this rude awakening started.

Determined to push him over the edge, you pull back just slightly, letting the tip of him rest on your tongue as you swirl it around his knob, dipping it past his slit a few times before diving back down, taking him fully once more. Each movement is deliberate, each glide of your lips sending him further into the abyss of pleasure. The sound of your lips slurping and the wetness of your mouth fills the room, creating an intoxicating rhythm that both of you are losing yourself in.

“Please, stop,” he begs, his eyes squeezing shut as he loses himself in the moment. “I can’t hold back much longer.” You revel in the power you have over him, the way your actions leave him breathless and needy. It’s a perfect feeling, one that makes you want to do this forever, to draw out his pleasure as long as you can.

But just as you think he might tumble over the edge, Heeseung suddenly pulls you off of him, his chest heaving with short breaths as he fights to regain control. His gaze is dark, filled with desire and a hint of desperation, and it sends a thrill through you as he locks eyes with you.

With a swift motion, he pulls your face up to his, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. It’s a clash of passion, sweetness and raw hunger as his mouth moves against yours. He can taste the remnants of your earlier actions on his tongue but he doesn’t care, he’s never been one to care about that, unlike some men.

Again, a reason why he’s a cut above the rest.

As you kiss, his fingers find home between your legs, feeling how wet you are just from sucking his cock. The feeling makes him smirk, his ego growing along with his arousal. He pushes your shorts and underwear to the side and you gasp into his mouth as you feel the heat of his member sliding against your pussy. 

“I need you so fucking bad,” Heeseung breathes between kisses. You can feel the urgency in his words, the way his body reacts to yours, the heat radiating off him, makes your heart race faster, and you instinctively press against him, seeking that sweet friction. “Let me fuck you, please, baby.” Heeseung is whiny and desperate, which means you know he’s close, seeking out that sweet release.

And you are more than happy to give him it.

You break the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Fuck me, please, Hee.” 

The invitation drives him over the edge, losing control completely, and you can see the flicker of determination in his eyes as he moves to claim you, each moment stretching out as you both surrender to the overwhelming connection that binds you together.

With pure greed, Heeseung captures your lips again, his mouth moving against yours with urgency. When his mouth finds your breasts again, he takes your right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before nibbling around the peak, his tongue swirling and teasing as he sends waves of pleasure through you.

Slipping into your heat, Heeseung’s cock finally stretches you open, a gasp in harmony orchestrating around your bedroom. Your eyes roll back as he fills you to the hilt, the exquisite sensation sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through every part of your body. Heeseung pauses for just a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his breath coming in heavy pants as he watches you. 

“God, you feel amazing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need as he slowly pulls back, only to plunge deep again. Each thrust is a slow exploration at first as he seeks to bring you both to that blissful peak. The sensation of his cock sliding against your inner walls sends waves of pleasure through you. Heeseung's eyes never leave your face, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, each gasp and moan drawing him deeper into the moment.

Heeseung's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he finds a steady rhythm, pushing deeper with each jerk of his hips, trying to prove to you just how great of a boyfriend he can be, how he will give you everything he has; mind, body, and spirit. 

Your body instinctively responds, arching into him, craving more as the world around you fades into the background. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the quiet room, punctuated by the choir of your shared gasps and moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice low and husky, thick with pleasure as he quickens his pace. It doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you, your walls will always welcome him in the most delicious way. 

You can feel the tension building within you with each thrust. The urgency in his movements builds, each movement charged with desperation and longing as he works hard to drive you both to the brink. He leans down, capturing your lips in another messy albeit loving kiss, stealing what little breath you have left.

As he kisses you, his hands roam down to your thighs, lifting your legs higher to allow him even deeper access. The shift in angle has you moaning like a pornstar as he hits that sweet spot inside you. You can feel the pressure building, the familiar tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, urging you closer to release.

“Y/N,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low and breathy, filled with both desire and admiration. “You’re everything to me.” The words resonate deep within your chest, and they only serve to heighten the intensity of your love for him. “I want you to cum for me,” he murmurs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in perfect time with his thrusts, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive bud.

The sensation of his fingers combined with the friction of his cock sends you spiralling toward the edge. With each stroke of his cock and each slow circle of his thumb, you can feel the heat pooling in your core, a delicious tension building that threatens to overflow.

“Hee, I’m so close,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as the sensations overwhelm you. Heeseung groans in response, his thrusts growing more frantic, his desire matching your own as he chases that high alongside you. “Just a little more, baby, you can take it,” he urges, his voice thick with need, every thrust a promise of the pleasure to come.

Your breaths come in sharp bursts as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you. With every movement, Heeseung brings you closer to the edge, the rhythm of his hips and the precision of his fingers drawing you nearer to bliss. Your body begins to tremble, the coil inside you winding tighter as Heeseung’s pace quickens, urgency fueling every thrust.

“Let go for me, baby,” he whispers, each word enveloped with need, and that simple command pushes you over the edge. With a shriek, your body explodes in pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you shatter beneath him.

The sensation washes over you, and as you lose yourself to it, you can feel Heeseung following closely behind, his own release spilling into you as he groans your name, ropes of his cum painting your walls, the heat adding to your pleasure and making your cunt try and swallow each drop. 

As the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, you find yourself still tangled together, your breaths mingling in the now warm air. Heeseung’s arms are wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his heartbeat gradually slows, though the lingering electricity between you remains palpable. You can feel the aftershocks of your climax coursing through you along with the final jumps of his cock, each pulse a gentle reminder of the ecstasy you just shared.

Heeseung gently pulls out, and a soft whimper escapes your lips at the loss, but he’s quick to pull you into his embrace, cradling you against his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, and you can’t help but smile, the afterglow of your connection illuminating your heart. 

“So...did I prove myself,” he breathes, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he meets your gaze. There’s a playful glint in his eyes, his brows wiggling. You’re so happy to have this Heeseung back, the worries and doubts are long gone.

“You never had to prove anything, Hee. You prove yourself every single day.” Your voice is earnest and raw, meaning every word. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek as you stroke his flushed face. “I love you so much, baby. Please never doubt yourself like that again.” 

Heeseung’s eyes soften at your words, a bashfulness coming over his features as he leans into your touch. The sincerity in your voice wraps around him like a comforting blanket, easing away any lingering insecurities. 

“You really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” you assure him, the depth of your love for him echoing amongst each syllable. “You are everything I have ever wanted and more. I don’t just say it for the sake of it, you know. You really are perfect for me, Hee. Perfect in general.”

His heart swells at your declaration, a grin lighting his face the way the moon lights up the room. “Well, I guess that means I should keep doing what I’m doing, yeah?”

“Abso-fucking-luty, “ you giggle, kissing his chest before you settle your head there, listening to his heartbeat, the one that beats only for you. “Just keep being mine.”

“Always.”

[licorishh]

so uhhh happy valentine's day i suppose !!

shoves this in your face and runs away

so. uh. yyyyyeah. when i said i liked all interpretations of their dynamic equally i uh. i lied. and to be totally and completely and 100% honest with you it speaks volumes to the state of the internet that i have been legitimately afraid to say that like i've genuinely been debating and turning it over in my head and arguing with myself about it for days because i don't want people frickin' YELLING at me and telling me to off myself because i like a dadgum fictional ship but it's valentine's and my friend has been hyping up the crap outta me so i'm past the point of having a reasonable excuse to chicken out (and i know myself and if i don't do it today then i likely won't do it at all)

anyway words actually cannot express how obsessed i am with post-o66 aus in which they stay together (largely because i so completely refuse to believe they'd be willing to split up after THAT, ESPECIALLY that soon) so yeah shoutout to the softest fluffiest gut-punch-iest pair in the galaxy to whom everything bad has happened but who stay silly despite the horrors

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

valentines....

pairing: channie x fem!reader

summary: spending a tooth-rotting valentines with your (new) sweet boyfriend <3

tags/warnings: none! just pure fluff <3 (plus first ily!)

a/n: happy valentines day! i am aware that this was posted later <3 i've been so busy all week with doctors appointments! thanks for being patient hehe <3 i decided to do channie since a lot of ppl think that chan is the most romantic so i thought it was cute <3 also not sure if im going to be taking the hiatus anymore honestly lmao. hope yall enjoy!! (sorry if this sucks i don't usually do fluff lmao)

masterlist

The snow had been falling lightly all day, turning the world outside into a soft, white wonderland. You stood by the window, watching the tiny flakes dance in the air before gently settling on the ground. It was Valentine’s Day, and though the world around you felt quiet and still, your heart was anything but. You had no idea what to expect, but there was one person who made every day feel special.

Chan.

Your heart fluttered at the thought of him. He was always thoughtful, but on days like today, he seemed to go above and beyond.

You heard the door creak open behind you, and there was no mistaking the sound of his voice.

“Hey, y/n! Look what I brought.”

Turning around, your eyes immediately found him, standing there with a shy smile, holding a bag filled with what you could only assume was a Valentine’s Day surprise. The sight of him—his dark hair slightly messy from the cold, cheeks flushed from the chilly air—made your heart skip a beat.

“What did you get me?” you teased, walking toward him, your breath fogging up in the cool air.

“Not telling,” he replied, grinning widely. “But first, you have to come outside with me.”

“Outside? In the snow?” You raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to freeze me?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Please?”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, curiosity taking over. If there was one thing you could always count on, it was that Chan would never do anything without a reason, and you knew he had something special planned.

You grabbed your coat and scarf, following him outside. The air was crisp, the snow crunching underfoot as you stepped onto the front porch. Chan turned to face you, his expression softening, and there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart swell.

“You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice a little quieter now.

“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Good,” he said. Without another word, he crouched down, offering his back. “Hop on.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Chan, we’re in the snow!”

He just grinned. “You’ll see. Trust me.”

You hesitated only for a moment before climbing onto his back, feeling the warmth of his body as he stood up, carrying you effortlessly through the thickening snow. You held onto him tightly, your face buried in his jacket as you tried to stifle a laugh at how ridiculous and sweet this all felt.

“I didn’t expect a piggyback ride on Valentine’s Day,” you said, your voice muffled against him.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy,” he replied softly.

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart race. It wasn’t just about the big gestures—though the snow and the piggyback ride definitely counted as something big—it was about the way he made you feel every single day. Like you were the most important person in his world.

As he carried you through the snow, you both laughed and talked, forgetting for a moment about the world around you, lost in the moment.

Eventually, you reached a small bench that overlooked the snowy landscape. He gently sat you down, still holding you close, and you both stared at the horizon where the sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, the setting sun reflecting off the snow.

There was a peacefulness in the moment, a calm that made everything feel right. You didn’t need anything more. You had everything you needed right there.

Chan turned to you, his expression softening even further. “Y/n, I need to tell you something.”

You tilted your head, looking into his eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but today feels like the perfect day…” He took a deep breath, his hand gently cupping your face. “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. There was nothing else you could say except, “I love you too, Chan.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/n. You make everything better.”

And in that moment, with the snow falling softly around you both and Chan’s warmth surrounding you, it truly felt like the best Valentine’s Day you’d ever had.

hope yall enjoyed <3

today's writing playlist....

case 143 by stray kids, heyday by 3racha, polaroid love by enhypen, bite me by enhypen, 3racha, happily ever after by txt, blue hour by txt, heaven by txt, do it like that by txt, maniac by viviz, earth, wind & fire by boynextdoor, know your worth by khalid, killer queen by mad tsai

my playlist

taglist: @rockstarkkami @sirloncelot-of-bananas

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

[muhlsworld]

HARD LAUNCH

pairing: caitlin clark x fem!reader

synopsis: caitlin finally reveals her relationship with you

WARNINGS: none i think

you can find the request here and here!

caitlin and you had been together since your freshman year at iowa. however you guys kept a secret from pretty much everyone except your teammates and family. you were ready to tell the world you were in love with caitlin clark. but she wasn’t ready yet and you were okay with it.

as caitlin’s skill and popularity grew dating speculations started to come to the surface. but they weren’t about you. they were about her and one of the men’s basketball players. connor.

you knew caitlin would never ever try anything with him. but he was always so persistent. he was always seen with caitlin. like he planted the pictures of them. caitlin always reassured you that there was nothing going on with him despiste the pictures being put out by the media.

as time went on connor had graduated from iowa and the speculation came to a halt. however there were still some diehard fans of caitlin and connor. but you never let it get to you.

cut to present time, which was valentine’s day during the offseason after caitlin’s rookie year. you guys had planned to hangout at home that day. but caitlin’s had gone out quickly for some groceries since she was making dinner for you two.

while you were at your shared apartment a new photo came out of caitlin. but it wasn’t just caitlin. it was a picture of connor giving caitlin a rose. and boy did the fans eat that up. the speculation immediately started up again.

you thought the worst of it. was caitlin ashamed of you? no that couldn’t be right? you were just going to wait for her to get home. and once she got home you started asking questions.

“caitlin what is this?” you say showing her the photo that was captured. she sighed as she took your phone from your hands. “he just came up to me and bombarded me with rose and i didn’t know what to do.” she said in a rush. you just stared at the floor.

“look i’ll fix this.” she said as she pulled out her phone.

you stared at her in confusion. not knowing what she was doing, you were about to peak and look at her phone when you got a notification on yours drawing the attention away from caitlin’s. the notification read ‘caitlinclark22 tagged you in a story’.

“cait what did you do?” you asked as you opened up the notification and saw her story.

it was picture that you had taken the day before. you were kissing caitlin’s cheek while she had a cheesy grin on her face. she had captioned the photo with ‘thankful to spend another valentine’s day with my love’.

your eyes welled up with tears and you finally loin up from your phone to see caitlin smiling at you. “are you sure you’re okay with that?” you asked immediately. “it’s about time the world knows how lucky i am.” she said as she pulled you into a kiss.

you and caitlin had put your phones on dnd for the rest of the night not wanting to be interrupted.

but little did you two know the uproar that caitlin just caused. the whole internet was going insane at the hard launch that caitlin’s just did. there were so many people making edits and tagging you in all of them.

people started reposting old pictures and saying how obvious it was but no one noticed because of connor. the whole basketball community was going crazy.

but you two paid no mind to it.

just being happy in each other’s presence.

that was the best valentines gift you could ever ask for.

A/N: i hope i did this request justice!! send in more cc requests pls

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Quinn wanting to pamper us but he's not really sure what he's doing?

"Am I doing this right?"

Quinn's fingers clumsily prodded at your shoulders, hoping whatever he was doing felt okay. His latest injury of the season had him staying in Vancouver instead of traveling with the team. For several weeks, his mood hadn't been the best, and you had dealt with the worst of it. Now, he wanted to apologize for his behaviour, and treat you in a way where you wouldn't think he was just trying to buy you off.

He had made you dinner, which had been wonderful, even though you had offered to help him. Quinn wasn't having any part of it, and every time you'd try to, he'd insist you just have a seat. He knew what he was doing in the kitchen, but you felt guilty just watching him do everything by himself.

Now, however, he had decided to massage your shoulders as you sat in front of him on the floor, with him on the sofa. Though the sounds you were making made him wonder if he wasn't just causing you more pain. "It seems like I'm hurting you."

"No, no, you've just-- Ow!"

Quinn withdrew his hands immediately, "I'm sorry!"

"You don't have to stop. That's just a tender spot." You laid your head towards your right shoulder, hoping to alleviate some of the sharp tension that Quinn had triggered. "I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" He questioned, slowly returning his warm hands to your skin. "I never want to hurt you."

Breathing deep, you closed your eyes against the pain once more, hoping to hide it from Quinn, so he wouldn't keep thinking he was making everything worse. "Ye--yeah, I know.

"Baby, if you want me to stop, I will. I don't like making you feel this way -- doing more harm than good. How about I just make you an appointment for a massage tomorrow?"

Letting out the held breath you didn't realize you were holding, you felt like you had somehow hurt his feelings. "Quinn, I'm good. I've just got some-- really painful knots in my shoulders. They're going to hurt until I get them dealt with. You haven't done anything wrong."

Leaning down to kiss the inflamed skin, Quinn later let his fingers undo the scrunchie holding your hair in place. As the locks fell about your face, he coaxed you to lay your head back while he decided that a scalp massage would be a better option. Instantly, your eyes rolled closed feeling his digits work deep into your hair. He was slow in his movements; applying the right amount of pressure to take your breath away -- in the best way possible.

"Is this better."

Containing the urge to let a moan answer for you, you swallowed hard before answering, "You-- have no idea. Thank you, baby."

His soft laughter at your words made him feel better. "You're welcome. And thank you, for everything these past few weeks."

Words were beginning to be difficult for you, "Oh, it's-- it's no problem. I know things have been hard for you."

It was insane how good his fingers felt --how good he was with his hands-- and you could have drifted off to sleep had it not felt as good as it did.

"What do I have to do for you to do this more often?" You begged, your eyes still closed in bliss.

"Just ask me, that's all."

[hazymoonlinh]

🤔 how about phainon x scientist!fem reader like what you do with mydei, I like your writing 🤭 about that too

“The Coldest Star Meets the Brightest Light”

Part 1.

(Phainon x Researcher!Reader | Soulmate AU)

She did not believe in soulmates.

Not in the way that others did, anyway.

The concept was nothing more than an anomaly—an unexplained phenomenon of the universe that had no scientific basis, yet persisted in countless cultures across planets. Some claimed it was fate, an unbreakable bond destined to unite two people. Others called it a curse, binding individuals regardless of their will.

She categorized it as biological interference. A chemical reaction. Nothing more.

And yet—when she set foot in Amphoreus, standing amidst the blinding light of a battle between the Astral Express crew and an unknown warrior—her entire understanding of reality fractured.

Because the moment he turned, the moment his piercing blue gaze locked onto hers—her entire being froze.

A Fateful Encounter

Phainon had appeared in an instant, his entrance marked by a slash so swift that Dan Heng’s weapon shattered upon impact. His presence was radiant, overwhelming—like standing too close to a sun, its heat and gravity pulling everything toward it.

But he wasn’t looking at them.

He was looking at her.

“You.” His voice was deep, steady—yet beneath it was something else. Something shaken. “Who are you?”

She didn’t answer. Her brain was still processing the impossible.

This feeling—this pull—was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was not logical. It was not quantifiable. And yet, it was absolute.

Soulmates.

No.

No, no, no.

“That’s not important,” she finally replied, forcing her voice to remain level. She ignored the way her heartbeat threatened to betray her. “Stand down. We’re only here to investigate—”

Phainon stepped closer, ignoring her words entirely.

“No,” he murmured, as if he were speaking more to himself than anyone else. “No way… It’s you.”

His expression was unreadable—somewhere between disbelief and something softer.

It was unbearable.

She refused to acknowledge this.

Soulmates did not exist.

“I have no connection to you.” Her words were cold, detached—the same tone she used when analyzing test subjects. “Do not mistake me for something I am not.”

Phainon blinked.

And then, to her absolute horror—he laughed.

It was a soft chuckle at first, then a full, warm, delighted laugh, as if her rejection was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

She stiffened. “Excuse me?”

Phainon grinned, and it was the kind of grin that spelled trouble.

“You think you can just walk away?” His tone was playful, but there was something deeper beneath it—something sure. “Like it or not, we’re connected now. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

Her fingers twitched against the data pad she had instinctively grabbed. “I am not yours.”

“Not yet,” he agreed easily. “But you will be.”

Escape Was Not an Option

She left.

Of course she did.

After her mission ended, after she left Amphoreus, she returned to Herta’s Space Station. Back to her research, back to normalcy.

She had hoped the feeling would fade. That the inexplicable warmth lingering in her chest would disappear over time.

It didn’t.

Worse, she soon found that no matter where she went, she felt watched. Not in a threatening way—no, Phainon’s presence wasn’t the kind that instilled fear. It was something far more annoying.

Persistent. Playful. Patient.

He was waiting.

And then—one day—he stopped waiting.

An Unwanted Visitor

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

His voice was warm as ever—too warm, considering he was currently standing in her pristine laboratory, arms crossed, looking like he belonged there despite absolutely not belonging there.

She stared at him, unamused. “First of all, I left. Second of all, how did you even get in here?”

Phainon shrugged. “I have my ways.”

A pause.

“…Trailblazer helped you, didn’t they?”

His grin widened. “I have my ways.”

She exhaled slowly, setting her data pad aside. “I’m busy. If this is about that ridiculous soulmate nonsense—”

“It’s not nonsense.”

The sudden shift in his tone made her pause. It wasn’t teasing anymore. There was no mischief in his gaze. Only certainty.

Her chest tightened.

“Look,” Phainon continued, stepping closer. “I get it. You’re logical. You like things that make sense. But you felt it too, didn’t you?”

She remained silent.

His expression softened. “It’s not something you can explain. It just is.”

“That’s exactly why I reject it.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “I refuse to let something dictate my choices. Even if—” She hesitated. “Even if this connection exists, I won’t be forced into it.”

Phainon studied her for a long moment.

And then, instead of arguing—he smiled.

“Good,” he said simply.

She blinked. “…Good?”

“I don’t want you to accept it just because fate says so.” He tilted his head, the golden glow of the station’s lights reflecting in his icy blue eyes. “I want you to accept it because you choose me.”

That caught her off guard.

“…And you think I will?”

Phainon’s grin turned knowing.

“I know you will.”

She scoffed. “Have anyone told you you’re insufferable ?”

“And you’re adorable when you pretend you don’t care.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You’re coming with me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Back to Amphoreus.” His tone was far too casual. “We need to spend more time together. Y’know, bonding.”

“I have work—”

Phainon tapped her data pad, causing it to turn off.

“You have me now.”

She stared at him.

He stared right back.

For the first time in her life, she had no calculated response.

Phainon only chuckled, offering a hand. “Come on, genius. Let’s see if I can change your mind.”

Against all logic—she hesitated.

And for Phainon? That was already a victory.

TO BE CONTINUED…

How’s that for a start? Phainon’s warmth clashing with her cold logic, their instant connection, and his playful yet patient pursuit—this is gonna be fun. Let me know if you want Part 2!

I took extra time to polish it since you have waited for a week hehe.

Have anyone seen 3.1 trailer ? So cool.

[vampire-catboy]

I Need Top Surgery, and I Need Your Help

Not my usual programming but, still relevant. And hey if you help and donate I can post lots of hot post-op pics for you guys wearing cool harnesses and lingerie~

But on a serious note, this is about to be heavy sorry about that, but I'm not sure how much longer I can go on living in this body. I was able to get a trusted family friend to make this for me, though it's hard to burden others with this I am only doing so because I have exhausted all other options.

You can consider your donation as a horny tax if you've ever enjoyed my blog 💕 If you're not able to donate though sharing it would mean a lot, anything helps. I appreciate you all so deeply.

What's below are the details of the go fund me that are written on the site.

Hi my name is Silver, I also go by Percy in some corners of the internet. I am a disabled trans guy that has been out for nearly 10 years now. The first thing I knew for sure that I needed was top surgery but the barriers for that are large and numerous. I am Canadian, so some procedures are covered, though the waiting lists are years long. The other issue is unlike the US, the types of top surgery here are limited.

The type of top surgery I would be getting is called Button Hole, and the surgeon that I'll be getting it from is the woman that developed the procedure in the first place, Dr. Hope Sherie. The surgeons in my country that I spoke to said my body type did not qualify for that type of surgery, though I had already spoken with Dr. Hope Sherie about what the qualifications were for her procedure and knew that what I had been told by the surgeons in my country was not entirely true. My conclusion from the information I gathered was that the surgeons in my country do not have the experience necessary to do this procedure on my body type.

I did apply to see if I could get my top surgery covered outside of my country on the basis of being told that local surgeons could not do the procedure, but ones outside of my country can. However I was denied as my government considers it unnecessary for me to leave the country for surgery since they offer it here, even though it's not the same procedure. The government dose not see a difference between the types of top surgery though there are very much wide differences otherwise why would different procedures exist at all?

Why do you want Button Hole in particular?

The options for types of top surgery procedures that exist for mid-sized people are smaller in number than the options available to people that are smaller in size. Button Hole is on of the only procedure that exists for mid-sized people where your nerves to your nipples are not severed during the surgery like with nipple grafts, therefor allowing for retention of sensation of the nipple and areola. Like with any top surgery, things may not go perfectly and I may still not be able to retain as much sensation as I'm hoping, but this is going to be my body for the rest of my life, and I have been desperately wanting this surgery for 10 years. I have thought about and researched all my options and have known for so long now that this one was right for me.

Why now?

I was hoping I could get it covered through my government, but this process has been going on for 4 years only to end up empty handed. With being disabled I also have very little income, the small amount that I do make barely covers my medication and food every month and I often find my self pulling from my dwindling savings just to cover those expenses. I have survived these past 10 years despite the daily struggle that is the in-congruence with my body and identity. Being disabled on top of being trans, rendering me in a position of not being able to work very much means that felling trapped has been something I've had to battle constantly.

Things with my family, as I live with them since I cannot afford to live anywhere else, got particularly bad last year. (Content Warning for talk of suicide) Being disabled, I qualify for assisted suicide, which is easier for me to access than any kind of financial aid. I was considering that as my only option forward at the time feeling like there were no other better options for me. Things have gotten better at home since then, so I am trying to live, this is me trying to live.

Why this amount?

I was given the quote of 13,550$ USD for my surgery. The exchange rate, which is even worse now that it was of CAD to USD turns this already steep price even steeper by a large margin. I do not expect to get this very large sum entirely covered but every bit helps immensely with a price tag this high on my life.

What will the funds cover if you reach the goal?

Just the surgery, I am going to be paying for the flight with some of my limited savings. I am also going to be housed by a friend that lives in the state while I'm recovering so my lodging fees will be reduced drastically with that. I do not feel comfortable asking for anything more than this as I feel I am already asking for so much. This is truly my absolute last resort, I did not want to burden anyone with this if I could figure out any other way. I have now exhausted all my options though.

Who is running the fundraiser?

I am doing this with the help of a trusted family friend as having your identity spread around online as a trans person is a very scary thing. Things are difficult enough as it is for me, doxing my self would not help with that.

[christopherisfoive]

Underneath It All

Han x reader (College AU)

Note: I miss writing dearly however I can not get myself to do so. I have been reading stuff by others and missing those authors who are away. I hope to be able to read their work again soon xx

word count: 5.4k

I let my eyes wander to the bench where he sat with his friends, talking and eating his lunch. From the curl of his hair to the color of his lips, I was always enamored with his presence. I understood his appeal—the way girls around the school followed him, talking to his friends just to steal a moment of his attention.

I sighed and lowered my gaze to the grapes on my tray.

"I don't understand why you don't just go up to him and talk like everyone else does," my friend Kat said. She always insisted I had the confidence to do whatever I wanted—just like she did.

"It's because I can't do that. I'm not you. Also I don't really get the hype."

She huffed and stuffed one of my grapes into her mouth. I shot her an unserious look, but luckily, she turned the conversation around, and we started talking about finals next week. I tried to lure my brain back to its senses, forcing myself to forget about the puffy-cheeked boy sitting mere feet away.

I hear the screeching of a chair and glance up just as Han stands with his tray. Our eyes meet for a split second. His gaze sharpens, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before his expression hardens—dismissive, like we were kids at the playground and I had just stolen his favorite toy.

“Something interesting?” he says, cocking a brow.

I clear my throat and look away, pretending to focus on the grapes on my tray. “Not at all.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, low enough that only I catch it. When I glance up again, he’s already walking away.

Kat smirks. “Oooooh, tension.”

I roll my eyes and swipe a fry from her plate, ignoring the smug look on her face. I just wanted the next class to come already.

Hours pass, and somehow, I make it to the end of the day. My last class—Art Concepts—is with the least engaging professor in the entire university.

Most days, I can focus just fine, but on select afternoons like this, I find myself sketching assignments for my drawing courses instead.

I usually kept to myself in this class anyway. It just so happened that Han and his two friends, Hyunjin and Felix, were also enrolled.

Today, though, I only saw his friends—no Han in sight.

Fifteen minutes passed, and the professor still hadn't shown up. The room buzzed with quiet conversations, but most students were just waiting. I let my mind wander, zoning out as my gaze settled on the only empty desk beside me.

I didn’t even realize how long I had been staring until a familiar, taunting voice broke through my thoughts.

"Are you, like, alive? Or…?"

I blinked and looked up—straight into Han’s gaze.

I hadn’t even noticed him walk in. But now, standing there with that ever-present smirk, he seemed way too amused. And worse? While I had been lost in my thoughts, I completely missed the fact that this was the only open seat left.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just waiting," I respond nonchalantly, forcing my voice to stay even.

I look away before he can catch the shift in my mood, but I swear he senses it anyway.

Han hums, dragging out the sound like he doesn’t quite believe me. "Right. Just waiting. Definitely not zoned out, looking completely lost in thought or anything."

I scoff, finally glancing back at him. "Do you always narrate people’s lives, or am I just lucky?"

His smirk widens as he slides into the empty seat next to me. "Oh, you’re definitely lucky."

I can feel the warmth of his presence, the slight brush of his arm against mine, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, I turn my focus back to my sketchbook, determined not to let him get under my skin.

But he’s relentless. "You’re awfully quiet now," he says, voice low enough that only I can hear. "You were doing so well with that attitude a second ago."

I glance at him again, my eyes narrowing. "Maybe I just don’t have the energy for you today."

His lips twitch, and he leans in slightly, too close for comfort. "Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere."

I roll my eyes, turning my attention to my sketchbook instead of whatever this was turning into.

I put the rest of my energy into finishing my sketch, hoping the professor would show up—though I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a last-minute cancellation email. My eyelids felt heavy, and my head bobbed every so often, fighting sleep.

Suddenly, I sat up straight, forcing myself to stay awake.

I could feel Han’s gaze shift toward me. His eyes flicked up and down, like he was assessing me. "You good?"

I didn’t even look at him, keeping my focus on my sketchbook. "Yeah. Just… tired."

He tilted his head slightly, clearly intrigued. "Tired? Or just bored?"

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool. "A little bit of both. How about you? Enjoying the show?"

Han chuckled, leaning back in his seat, clearly enjoying the game. "Oh, I’m enjoying it alright. Watching you struggle to stay awake? Priceless."

I bit back a sarcastic reply, but I couldn’t help the heat rising in my cheeks. He was right, and the worst part? He knew it.

"Why did you show up late? Didn’t want to sit with your buddies today?" I ask with a small, teasing smile, barely keeping the smugness out of my voice.

Han quirks an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. For a moment, his usual cocky expression falters. "What, you think I’m avoiding them?"

I shrug casually, keeping my gaze fixed on my sketchbook, though I can’t help but notice how he leans in slightly, probably trying to figure me out. "Could be," I say with a slight smirk, though the truth is, I was just trying to throw him off.

He chuckles, but there’s a certain glint in his eyes now. "You don’t know me as well as you think, do you?"

I smile meekly, a bit of satisfaction tugging at the corners of my lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

He leans in a little, voice dropping. "Or maybe I just don’t need them to have a good time."

My heart skips a beat at the implication, but I don’t let it show. "Really? So you're fine with sitting next to me then?" I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the challenge alive.

He smirks, leaning back again. "Oh, I don’t mind. You make this class way more interesting."

I roll my eyes, not sure whether I should be annoyed or… flattered? Either way, I keep my cool. "Sure, because I’m the life of the party."

Han chuckles softly, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me now. "You’d be surprised."

I sit back in my chair, glancing down towards the front of the class, trying to ignore the slight unease swirling in my chest.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Hyunjin and Felix staring at us—eyes flicking between me and Han. The second they realize I’ve caught their gaze, they quickly look away, though I swear I see the corners of their lips twitching.

I try not to let it get to me, focusing on the front of the room instead, but it’s impossible not to feel like I’ve become the topic of their conversation.

Han, of course, notices their quick reaction too, and I can almost hear the smug satisfaction in his voice when he speaks. "They can’t keep their eyes off us, huh?"

I sigh inwardly, not giving him the satisfaction of looking his way again. "Maybe they’re just bored."

Han leans closer, his voice a little quieter now, like he’s sharing a secret. "I think they know something’s going on. Maybe they’re waiting for us to make a move."

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms, leaning back slightly in my chair. "And what kind of move would that be?"

Han tilts his head, a glimmer of curiosity behind his smirk. "I don’t know… something a little less, uh, distant." His gaze flicks briefly to my face, studying me.

I give him a pointed look. "Distant? I’m not the one leaning in every two seconds."

He chuckles, clearly amused by my response, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. "True. You’re different from the others."

I scoff, leaning forward a little. "And what’s that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs casually, but I can see a slight shift in his posture, as if he’s trying to gauge me a little more. "Just that… most girls are pretty eager to talk to me. But you? You don’t exactly jump at the chance."

I keep my expression neutral, but a little voice in the back of my mind tells me he’s digging for something more. "Guess I’m just not like them."

Han raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Guess not." He leans back in his chair, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than I’m comfortable with. "But it’s interesting, don’t you think? The way you’re not all over me like everyone else."

I don't respond to him. Not because I have nothing to say but because I have this horribly feeling that if I do I'll confess to him about all the times I have thought about talking to him.

I don’t respond to him—not because I have nothing to say, but because I have this horrible feeling that if I do, I’ll accidentally confess to him all the times I’ve thought about talking to him.

The thought hits me like a wave, and my throat tightens. I can’t bring myself to say anything more. If I open my mouth, I might just blurt out all the things I’ve been trying to avoid. All the days I’ve watched him from across the room, imagining what it would be like to just walk up to him and say something.

Instead, I stay silent, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my heart’s picking up speed. I keep my gaze locked on my sketchbook, willing myself to focus on the lines in front of me, even as his presence next to me feels too loud.

Han doesn’t push me for an answer, but I can feel his eyes on me—probing, like he’s waiting for me to crack.

I can feel my heart beat in my ears, each thud louder than the last. My breath catches in my throat, and before I can stop it, I let out a small, awkward cough, hoping it’ll cover up the fact that I’m suddenly drowning in this unwelcome feeling.

I try to look down at my sketchbook, but it’s like the weight of his gaze is heavy on me now. I know he’s still watching, and it makes my skin burn with embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" Han’s voice breaks through the silence, and it’s so much softer than I expect.

I swallow hard, willing my face to stay neutral. "Yeah, fine," I say quickly, trying to sound casual, but I can feel the heat in my cheeks betraying me.

I glance at him, just for a second, and then immediately look away when I realize the intensity in his eyes. Great, now he probably knows I’m acting weird.

I glance at him, just for a second, and then immediately look away when I realize the intensity in his eyes. Great, now he probably knows I’m acting weird.

Han doesn’t laugh or tease this time. Instead, there’s a moment of silence, and then his voice comes, softer than before. "You sure you’re fine?"

I look up at him, trying to keep the nervous flutter out of my chest, but his gaze is a little too intense. I open my mouth to respond, but the words don’t come out immediately. Why is he being like this?

He leans a little closer, his tone casual but with an undertone of something more. "You don’t usually act like this. You, uh, okay?" His eyes flicker to my face, like he’s trying to read me.

For a second, I consider just brushing it off. But the way he’s looking at me—so quietly observant, like he’s seeing through my walls—makes me hesitate. I can’t just say something random and pretend everything’s fine.

I clear my throat, finally forcing words out. "Yeah. I’m just tired."

Han doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he doesn’t push further. He leans back, though his gaze still lingers for a moment longer than I expect. "Alright. Just making sure."

By this time, it's been almost thirty minutes, and the professor still hasn’t shown up. I glance at the clock, my patience running thin. I decide that saving myself by leaving is the best option. The thought of heading back to my dorm and possibly taking a nap on my desk sounds like pure bliss right now.

I start packing my things back into my bag, my mind already half-out the door. I’m just about to zip it up when I rub the exhaustion out of my eyes, feeling the weight of the day settle in.

Before I can grab my bag and head out, I hear Han’s voice again, this time sounding a bit more serious than I expect. "You leaving?"

I pause, the motion of stuffing my sketchbook into my bag halting as I glance up at him. Han’s eyes are no longer playful, and his posture is slightly more upright, like he's actually paying attention to me for the first time today.

I hesitate for a second, debating whether to just walk away or give him some kind of answer. Finally, I shrug, trying to sound casual even though I can feel the heat rising in my chest. "Yeah, don’t think this class is happening."

Han studies me for a moment, and then his lips curl into a small, almost knowing smirk. "You sure about that? I think you just might be missing something."

I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine, but it’s enough to make me stop mid-motion. I stare at him, my hand frozen on the zipper of my bag. Is he serious? Does he want me to stay?

I stare at him for a moment, unsure if I heard him right. His expression has shifted again, no longer playful, but still too hard to read. My heart skips a beat, and I feel a strange pull—like maybe I’m missing something, like maybe he wants me to stay.

I glance at the door, my mind already made up. I should just leave. This class is practically canceled anyway.

But something in the way Han is looking at me makes me pause. Why do I feel like I’m being baited?

He raises an eyebrow, as if he’s waiting for me to say something, but all I can do is stare back, unsure of how to respond. I can’t decide whether it’s his confidence or the curiosity building between us that’s keeping me rooted to the spot.

Finally, I let out a small, almost nervous laugh. "You really think the professor is going to show up?" I try to keep my tone light, but it’s clear I’m still trying to deflect.

Han just shrugs, leaning back slightly in his chair, his smirk returning. "Could be. Or maybe, you're just avoiding something."

I frown, unsure of what he means, but the way he says it catches my attention. He’s not even teasing anymore. There’s something in his eyes—something that makes me feel like he’s trying to figure me out, in the way that only someone who’s actually paying attention would.

I bite my lip, looking back at my bag again, but somehow, I don’t feel the urge to rush out the door anymore. I feel... caught.

Han’s eyes flicker to my bag and then back to me. "You know, I’ve never actually seen you stick around after class." His voice is low, and even though he sounds nonchalant, there’s a subtle weight behind it. "What’s the rush?"

I feel my stomach flip. He’s definitely noticed something, and I’m not sure if I like that.

I bite my lip, my fingers tracing the edge of my bag, the words swirling in my head. It’s you. You’re the reason I feel like I’m in a rush.

But I can’t say that. I can’t tell him that.

Instead, I clear my throat, trying to shake the weight of my own thoughts off. "I don’t know, maybe I just... have stuff to do." The words feel hollow, like they’re coming from someone else, but I push them out anyway, hoping it will stop him from seeing right through me.

Han doesn’t seem convinced, though. His gaze never wavers, like he’s watching for any little sign I might give away. And somehow, I feel like I’m standing completely exposed, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking but is waiting for me to say it.

I shift in my seat, trying to keep my cool. "I don’t like staying after class. Just feels... pointless."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me feel like he’s trying to coax me into admitting something—anything.

I let out a breath, my heart beating just a little faster. There’s this feeling creeping up my chest, like maybe, just maybe, if I told him—if I said the words—something would change. But I can’t.

"Anyway," I say, my voice steady but shaking on the inside, "I should probably go."

I stand up quickly, trying to escape the suffocating tension. I can feel his eyes on me as I move, and it makes my pulse quicken even more. It’s him. He’s the rush. He’s the one who keeps me from leaving. But I can’t say it. Not now. Not ever.

I push through the door of the building, the cool air hitting my face as I step outside. I take a deep breath, hoping the open space will calm my nerves. The campus is quieter now, the usual hustle and bustle having quieted down as students filter out of the building, heading in different directions.

Finally. I’m free.

But as I take a step forward, I hear the sound of footsteps behind me. A little too close to be a coincidence.

I don’t turn around. I can’t turn around.

I keep walking, my steps faster now, almost instinctively, trying to escape this strange feeling gnawing at me. I feel the weight of his gaze even without looking back.

But then, out of nowhere, I hear his voice.

"Not running away again, are you?"

I freeze. My heart stumbles in my chest. Han’s standing just behind me now, a few steps away but enough to make it impossible to ignore him. The teasing tone is still there, but it’s quieter, more deliberate. His presence is almost… unsettling now.

I slowly turn to face him, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I’m sure he can see the flicker of confusion in my eyes. He looks completely unbothered, like following me out here was the most normal thing in the world.

"I’m not running away," I say quickly, my voice a little sharper than I intended. I don’t even know why I feel defensive; it’s not like I owe him an explanation.

Han doesn’t seem to mind my tone. He just looks at me with that same unreadable expression. His eyes flicker toward the building we just came from, then back to me.

"So, what is it then?" His voice is low, casual, but the question hangs in the air like a challenge. "You avoiding me?"

I laugh, but it’s tight, forced. "No, I’m not avoiding you." My stomach twists, but I refuse to let him see how much his words are affecting me.

Han steps closer, the space between us shrinking, and I feel my pulse quicken. "Funny," he says with a half-smile, his gaze intense. "Because it sure seems like it."

I try to step around him, my thoughts a jumbled mess, but Han steps into my path again, blocking my way. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes are serious now. He’s not playing games anymore.

"Are you really just going to walk away?"

My breath catches, but I stay silent, my heart pounding like it’s about to escape my chest. I glance up at him, and he’s looking at me with that same piercing gaze. I feel pinned in place, like I’m stuck between wanting to run and wanting to stay.

I take another step, trying to brush past him, but Han mirrors me, moving just slightly to the side to stay in my path.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s teasing, but there’s a seriousness in the way he looks at me. "You can’t just walk away from this."

I turn my back to him, taking a deep breath to steady myself. He’s not going to let it go.

"What’s your deal, huh?" I snap, spinning around to face him, my voice shaky but loud. I can feel my emotions starting to spiral out of control. "Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep following me?"

His eyes widen for a split second, but then he’s right back to that confident, collected expression. He steps even closer, barely any space between us now. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m just curious."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and before I can stop it, the floodgates open. "Curious?" I laugh, the sound coming out bitter. "You want to know why I’m avoiding you, right?"

I don’t wait for him to answer. The words are spilling out before I can think, like they’ve been locked inside me for far too long.

"It’s you, okay? You… you intrigue me." I wince as I say it, my own voice feeling too loud, too vulnerable. "I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about talking to you all the time, and I just… I just can’t."

I can’t believe I’m saying this. My heart is racing so fast, I’m sure he can hear it. I’m terrified of how exposed I feel, how raw my emotions are right now.

Han’s eyes soften, just slightly, and for a second, I think maybe he’s going to say something comforting, but then his lips curl into a small smile.

"So, you do want to talk to me, huh?" He leans in a little closer, his voice almost a whisper. "Then why don’t you?"

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I want to run away. I want to disappear into the ground and never come back. But I can’t. Not now. Not with him standing there, waiting for me to finish what I started.

I stand there, frozen, my heart pounding so loud I’m sure he can hear it. His eyes are still on me, waiting for my next move, the silence stretching between us like an invisible thread pulling me in.

"So, you think about talking to me all the time?" Han’s voice is a little lower now, almost teasing, but there’s something behind his words I can’t quite place. He steps just a little bit closer, his proximity making everything feel heavier.

I try to pull back, but something in me is rooted to the spot. "I…" My voice falters, and I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze bearing down on me. It’s like he’s waiting for me to crumble.

He watches me for a moment, his eyes glinting with something that I can’t quite name. Then, finally, he steps back just a bit, his shoulders softening, as if he’s deciding to give me space. But instead of turning away, he looks at me with a soft, genuine smile.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," he says quietly. The teasing edge is gone, replaced by something warmer. More real. "I just… didn’t expect you to say that."

The words settle around me like a weight, and for the first time since this entire conversation started, I feel like I can breathe. His presence isn’t overwhelming now—it’s almost comforting. Like he’s not trying to get anything out of me, but just… understanding.

I don’t know why, but the sudden shift in his demeanor makes me feel like I’ve been holding my breath all this time.

"You intrigue me, too," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels almost like a confession, but it’s true.

I can’t look at him directly, not after everything I’ve said, so I focus on my hands, suddenly feeling all too aware of how much I’ve just exposed. My cheeks heat up, and I pray he won’t notice.

But then, Han reaches out, just lightly touching my arm, and my heart skips a beat. It’s so gentle, almost like he’s trying to steady me without saying a word.

"It’s okay," he murmurs, his voice soft, the teasing gone completely now. "You don’t have to explain yourself."

And just like that, everything that had felt so heavy—so intense—begins to soften. The walls I had built up around myself start to crumble in the most unexpected way. I feel my shoulders relax for the first time since I’ve known him, and I can’t help but smile softly.

For a moment, we just stand there, the silence stretching between us like a quiet thread connecting us in ways I never imagined. My heart is still racing, but it’s not in a panic anymore. It’s the kind of racing that feels real, like something is about to change.

Han’s gaze doesn’t waver from mine, and I can feel the weight of everything I’ve just said hanging in the air. His eyes soften just a little, and I wonder if he can feel the shift too. Maybe he’s as caught up in this as I am.

The tension feels like it’s building again, but this time it’s different. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable—it’s something else. I don’t know if it’s the way he’s looking at me, or if it’s because I finally said the truth out loud, but I can’t look away. I don’t want to.

But before I can say anything else, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. My heart gives a little lurch, and I look away just as Hyunjin and Felix come around the corner of the building. Han doesn’t break eye contact with me until they catch up, and then he turns his head slightly, breaking the spell we were caught in.

"Hey, guys," Han says, his tone shifting as his friends approach. They give him a knowing look, and then they glance at me, but they don’t say anything right away. It’s like they’re waiting for him to explain.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling a little out of place. "Hey," I mumble, trying to act casual even though my heart is still pounding.

Han looks over at me, his eyes glinting with a teasing edge again, but there’s something different in his expression this time.

"These are my friends, Hyunjin and Felix." He gestures toward the two of them. "You’ve met Felix before, right?"

Felix gives me a warm smile, his eyes lighting up when he sees me. "Yeah, I think we had a class together last semester!"

Hyunjin just gives me a small nod, his eyes sharp, but he doesn’t say much. I’m sure he’s observing everything, like he always does.

I try to smile back at them, but the conversation feels a little distant now. I’m still reeling from the earlier exchange with Han, and now, with the three of them standing there, I’m not sure what to say.

"Nice to meet you both," I say, my voice a little quieter than usual.

Han catches my eye again, and I can feel the unspoken words between us. The way he looks at me now is different—like he knows something I don’t.

As soon as Hyunjin and Felix join us, the atmosphere shifts again. I notice Felix giving me another friendly smile, but Hyunjin, on the other hand, seems to be observing us a little too closely.

Han looks at him for a moment, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "What?" Han asks, his voice tinged with a quiet warning.

Hyunjin leans in a little, his eyes flicking back and forth between me and Han, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn’t know you were so... chatty these days."

Han’s cheeks flush slightly, and I catch the briefest moment where he looks like he’s about to say something, but he just gives a short, almost dismissive laugh instead. He turns to me, trying to play it cool again. "Don’t mind him, he likes to tease."

But Hyunjin’s eyes never leave Han, and he raises an eyebrow, his tone light but with an edge. "Oh, we can tell."

Felix seems to catch on to the vibe pretty quickly and shoots a look at Hyunjin, trying to diffuse the moment with a casual comment. "It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out, right?"

Hyunjin shrugs, his gaze still lingering on Han for just a moment longer before he finally turns to me with a bright, friendly grin. "Sorry if we’re making things awkward. We’ve just been waiting for Han to make a move for, like, forever."

My heart skips, but I force a smile, pretending I didn’t catch the hint. I look at Han, who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "A move?" I ask, genuinely confused.

Felix jumps in quickly, laughing a little too loudly. "He means just, you know… being less of a weirdo around people."

Han shoots him a glare, and I can see his usual easygoing confidence slipping just slightly. "I don’t know what they’re talking about," he mutters, clearly embarrassed.

But it doesn’t seem like Hyunjin is done just yet. He leans in a bit, looking at Han with a playful, knowing grin. "Sure, sure. But don’t worry, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before you show us how you really feel."

I’m still not entirely sure what they mean, but it’s enough to make my heart race again, a mix of confusion and something I can’t quite place bubbling up inside me.

I glance between them, trying to piece together what they’re saying. Felix and Hyunjin are clearly enjoying themselves, but Han seems... almost caught off guard by their teasing. It’s subtle, but there’s something in the way he won’t meet my eyes, something that makes my stomach twist.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" I find myself asking before I can stop it, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin grins, shooting me a playful wink, his tone light but knowing. "Oh, don’t worry about it," he says, before nudging Felix. "You’ll figure it out soon enough."

I blink, still unsure, but I feel my cheeks start to burn again. My eyes flicker to Han, who's now standing just a little too close for comfort. He’s still quiet, but I can feel the weight of his presence beside me, almost like he’s waiting for me to say something.

My heart is pounding, and I try to brush off the tension, but it’s getting harder to ignore.

As if sensing my confusion, Han finally speaks, his voice softer than usual. "It’s not like that." He glances at me, his gaze lingering just long enough for me to catch the subtle vulnerability in his eyes before he looks away.

The moment feels heavy, and I’m not sure if it’s my racing heartbeat or the silence between us that makes it so hard to breathe. I feel like I should say something, but I’m not sure what to make of any of this yet.

Felix and Hyunjin continue their walk ahead, but I’m left standing there, caught between confusion and something else—something that feels a lot like... curiosity.

I glance at Han again, but this time, he doesn’t look back. Instead, he gives a small, almost imperceptible sigh, like he’s resigned to something. "You should get going," he says, his voice almost gentle.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Yeah… I should." But even as I turn to walk away, I feel his presence linger behind me, and I know that whatever this is between us... it’s not over yet.

[throatgoat4u]

hello, hello, hello, hello to all my lovely people out there. i wanna start of by saying happy valentines to every single one of you. whether you're single, in a relationship, or have just broken up, i hope you all enjoy this amazing day of love and share it with their loved ones.

today's not just about a romantic partner, but to people who you just love. tell your family how much you love and appreciate them for all they've done for you and if that's not an option, share your gratitude with your friends or people who have constantly been there for you and have made you feel loved.

do something kind for someone. give them a hug, write them a letter, compliment them, whatever. you don't have to make some big gesture or go all out, just let someone know you appreciate them.

but most importantly, make sure you love yourself. self love is just as, if not more, important than anything else. how are you supposed to put in your time and effort in loving someone else if you can't do that for yourself? so whether you want to go out and spoil yourself or stay in and take a nice bath and watch movies, make sure you're putting your love for yourself first.

but, loving yourself isn't just about spa days and self care (but like that shit's like amazing so like i definitely recommend a nice everything shower if you're not doing anything today.....) it's also about speaking to yourself kindly, forgiving yourself for past mistakes, and acknowledging that you deserve just as much love as everyone else on this amazing day!

now, that being said, i'm gonna spread all my love to some of the most amazing people on this app! (this is where my formality ends, trust 🤞)

@onevison. i literally love you so much omg. you are one of the nicest people ever and you're actually so creative with your aus. i love talking to you and always enjoy when we chat. i love you!

@freshloveee. you're so so so good at writing and genuinely one of my favorite writers on this app. you're honestly so sweet and kind. i love you!

@chrepsi. you're genuinely one of the funniest people on this app, i cannot. i love your vibe and your music taste is just so ugh. you're so cool. i love you!

@muwapsturniolo. so you're literally amazing?!?! like you're so gorgeous and funny and such an amazing writer. idek how many times i've reread your shit but it's too many to count. anywho..... when's the next album coming out sza????? i love you!

@leoslaboratory. i just binge read your fics last night btw. you're fucking amazing and i love everything you do. dealer!chris is amazing and i absolutely love it. your fics for black history month are eating btw. i love you!

@phone4pills. so so so cool. you're theme is so cool, you're fics are so cool, you are so cool. i'm genuinely sooo happy anytime i've seen that you've posted a new fic or something and am always looking forward to when you write more. i love you!

@mattscoquette. you're just sooooo like awesome. i love everything you write and i love scrolling through watching you answer asks cause you're so funny. i'm still heartbroken over a change of heart (and the fact that you've ruined that song for me 💔). also like petition to bring back my man perv!matt. he doesn't get the love he deserve. anyways, when i was lurking here, i would always stalk your page and you were the first person i found on sturniolo tumblr. you were genuinely such an inspiration for me and one of the biggest reasons i started posting what i write. i love you!

@thenickgirl. you're my favorite nick girl out there. i love how you write for him and give him the attention he absolutely deserves. just cause he's gay doesn't mean we should leave him out guys 😞💔. you're such an amazing writer and you're so funny. i love you!

@t0riiiis. you're literally like so relatable and i feel like i can always talk to you without getting bored. you're there for me and you've shown your love for me countless times and i cannot even begin to say how much it means to me. i love you!

@oopsiedaisydeer. i'm sooo happy that we're like friends now because you're such a nice and cool person. you're an amazing writer and i love when i see updates on your ponyo au. you're so sweet and show me so much support on literally everything. i love you!

@bernardsbendystraws. dare i say that you're the mother of sturniolo tumblr?!?! you're genuinely such and amazing and funny person and make the tumblr fandom a much better place. i love how during that whole pedo scandal, you were there for absolutely every single person and were so helpful in the whole ordeal. you aren't scared of what anyone says about you and you're so confident, it's so admirable (this also goes for @muwapsturniolo, cause if i recall correctly she called her workplace or something like that which is honestly a boss ass move). your writing is also just amazing and never disappoints. you're like a breath of fresh air (that sounded better in my head but it's okay). i love you!

and i've saved the best for last, @snoopychris. idek what to say. like i'm being serious. i love you so much and you're my absolute favorite person on here. i love being able to talk to you everyday and ik you'll be there to listen without judgement. you're so funny (and a bit odd) and i love you for it. you're genuinely like a big sister to me in a way and i just feel like talking to you makes my day. whether it's about an au or just yapping (or saying some weird shit about chris) it always makes my day just so much better. i literally trust you soooo much even if we’ve only known each other for a short time. like when i say i trust you, i mean like i TRUST you. atp, i trust you enough to know what my face looks like, my actual name, and other personal info. like genuinely i feel so comfortable talking to you and you never fail to make me happy! you're such a fun person and so creative. also you're writing?!?! i literally love it. i love you 🧠!

obviously there are so many other people who i absolutely love, adore, and cherish with my whole heart, but these people stick out to me! anyways, i love you guys so much and am so thankful for everyone's constant support. i'm so happy with all the new friends i've made on this app and am looking forward to making many many many more! with lots of love...

toodles sluts :)

(i felt it was necessary to bring back sluts for this post...)

also the fact that i actually wrote that shit at the top from my heart impresses me….. like what?!?!

also one last note, if there’s some misspelled words or i’m just repeating myself like an idiot, please note that its still early and even tho i woke up over an hour ago, im still like half asleep

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Rayllum + proposal???

(That one scene on the bridge REALLY seemed like it was leading up to a proposal, didn't it, or am I crazy? He made such a big deal about setting up that whole ridiculous spectacle for her and then it was just a regular date. I'm still salty about it lol)

Oh you definitely weren't the only person who thought that! It really did seem set up that way. Thanks for the prompt!! It was super fun to write.

Rayla’s breath hitched at the feeling of hand on her shoulder, her dreams dissipating as she jerked awake. Her eyes flew open— but still, she could make out only shadows. Her assailant had blindfolded her.

She smiled, stretched leisurely, and stood up, waiting for the familiar words. 

“Do you trust me?” Callum asked.

“I do.”

He took her hand and guided her from her bed, as he’d done every year on this night in the three since Aaravos’s defeat. His hand was warm in hers, sending beams of anticipation through her whole body as he led her down to the river. How would he outdo himself this year? She hadn’t thought anything could beat the musical serenade he’d set up the first time he’d done this, until she’d stood on the bridge with him two years ago and watched the glow toads, the shimmercrows, and Stella sail down the river on a raft covered in drawings of memories she and Callum had made. And surely nothing could compare to the moonberry surprise the raft had carried her last year. But that was being with Callum for you— you never knew what would come next, but you could count on it being more wonderful than you’d ever imagined.

It wasn’t long before the sounds of the rushing water filled Rayla’s ears, and she leaned into Callum as he helped her navigate the incline of the bridge. The movements practiced by now, she turned to face him, waiting for him to remove the scarf from around her eyes. When he did, though, concern flashed through her. His fingers were trembling against her skin. 

“Callum?” She caught his hands as they wrapped the scarf around her neck. “Is everything okay?”

“I hope so.”

Before she could ask him to elaborate, a familiar song echoed down the river, and she turned to see the glow of the raft as it made its way towards them. She leaned over the edge of the bridge, squinting, but she couldn’t see anything that would cause Callum to be so on edge. Bait, Stella, Hat, Sneezles, Jellygrab, Aaron, and Sam were all accounted for. In fact, the raft looked exactly the same as it had the first time she’d seen it, only something shimmered in the center of it. It was too small to be a weapon… some kind of primal stone? Or—

Rayla’s breath caught.

It wasn’t one thing. It was two. A pair of brilliant silver horn cuffs, moon opals shining in their centers. 

Rayla whirled on Callum, her heart pounding in her throat. “Callum— are those—"

“Yes,” he rasped. 

In a single motion, Rayla turned and leapt over the edge of the bridge, landing with a crash in the water below.

“Rayla!” Callum cried.

But she barely heard his voice, barely felt the cold, barely noticed the press of the water around her in her dash for the cuffs. The feeling of them in her hands, smooth and solid and real as the promise they represented— no fear could come close to overpowering that. 

Callum’s arms were around her a second later, pulling her out of the river and into the warmth of his embrace. She slid the cuffs over her horns and turned to him, beaming even through chattering teeth.

“What— how— why would you—" Callum gasped, fear and pride at war on his perfect features.

“I love them,” Rayla said, “and I love you, and yes, I want to marry you, and I wasn’t going to wait so much as a second to show you that.”

Callum let out a peal of laughter, giddy and disbelieving. “I had this whole speech planned, you know! I was going to tell you how much you mean to me, all the things I love about you, all the ways I want to be there for you…”

Rayla pressed a finger to his lips, then moved her hand to cup his cheek. “I don’t need to hear it. Because you show me, every day. And because you’re Callum. You’re brave and funny, clever and caring, and a thousand other things that I wouldn’t have enough time to list if we lived forever. You’re a hero— you’re my hero. And I want to be yours, for as long as we live. You are so…”

Words failed her, then, but she didn’t need them. She closed the distance between him, pressing her lips to his, and knew when she pulled away to see the sheen of tears in his eyes that he understood. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to be your husband.”

Unable to help herself, she grinned, elbowing him. “And have ten babies with me?”

Callum half-laughed, half-groaned. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Rayla smiled, kissing him lightly. “Not for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, speaking of children, our various animal dependents are waiting on us to steer them to shore before they reach the town.” Callum got to his feet and winked. “Race you to the raft, fiancée.”

He took off without a backward glance, and Rayla launched to her feet after him with a shriek of indignation. He would beat her, she knew, but she couldn’t bring a speck of herself to mind.

Fiancée.

Rayla was made of nothing but hope, nothing but love, lit from the inside out. She had never looked forward to her future more.

[midnight-mourning]

Let Me Love You

Hi @spineapplestudios!! I was your Secret Valentine this year!!! I wrote you a little hurt/comfort piece with Sun hehe, I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 2391

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

You wring your hands, checking the time once again.

The clock reads 3:03 am. Late. Far too late. 

When things took this long, it was never good. Not in the slightest. It meant that things had went wrong, one way or another. But you had no way of knowing for sure until they got back. Stuck simply lying—or in this case, sitting or pacing—awake until someone walked through the door. 

You knew they were capable, knew they could handle most any threat thrown their way. But that didn't stop the worry from sinking into you all the same. Holding a vice grip of dread around your heart as you listened to the 'tick, tick, tick' of the wall clock. 

Maybe you should have argued more this time. Made your case again for how and why you could be of help. Sure, you weren't strong in that regard. Not like them. 

Merely human, no abilities or powers, weaker, certainly, without a doubt. But that didn't mean you weren't capable. That didn't mean you couldn't try, couldn't fight your hardest, your best, in the ways that you could contribute. 

You were smart, quick on your feet, good in stressful situations. Your first aid skills weren't terrible either. You could help! And if he would let you train and learn to fight or at least more than just basic defense, surely then you'd stand a decent chance. 

"Not fast enough, love." Sun would say, wooden blade hitting against yours, pushing down to force you to almost kneel from his strength. "Not strong enough. One wrong move is all it takes. It's not worth the risk."

You think that if he actually trained you, instead of throwing you to the wolves immediately that maybe you wouldn't crumple like a sack of potatoes at every blow, but that was just your opinion. 

However, everytime you tried to bring it up, it only ended in another argument. Words thrown around that shouldn't be, regrets sinking in with each and every blow. You, weren't great for each other in that regard. Feeding off each other's worst traits in a situation where you should be trying to negate them. 

Maybe that's why he outright refused to let you help, you two weren't—admittedly—the best when it came to that kind of communication. And if you couldn't agree off the battlefield, it wasn't a good sign for when you were on it. 

That didn't mean you wouldn't try, though. You'd do anything to just be given a chance to show that you could help. Just one chance. 

The door creaks open then, pulling you from your clouded thoughts. 

Sun trudges in, slight stumble to his steps. The door shutting behind him with a muted click. 

He looks up, eyes locking with yours, widened in surprise upon seeing you still up. "I, love, why are you awake?"

"As if I could even think about sleeping." You tsk, then notice the way he's clutching his side. "Wait, are you okay? What happened? Is everyone alright?"

You hurry over to him, fretting, unsure what to do. 

He waves you off, moving past you to collapse onto the couch, sitting back with a heaved sigh. "Just a knick. I'll live. Go to bed."

"I, you can't be serious." You shake your head, trying to keep your anger under check. 

Sun pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Please, not now. I can't tonight. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, alright?"

You bite your cheek, frustration going from a simmer to almost boiling over. There's so much you want to say. How it's not fair to just toss you away, especially when he's hurting like this. How that's not how love works, it's a two-way street, and yet, he never lets you give him that, you realize. 

It's always him appreciating you, cherishing you. Showing you how much he cares, but the moment you try and offer the same, he shuts down, shuts you out. You've never understood it, and despite your efforts in trying to find out why, you've yet to succeed.

But, that's a discussion for another time. Calling him out from his walls won't stop him from bleeding out. 

You head over to under the sink, grabbing the first aid kit and walking back over to him. You kneel on the ground, setting the kit on the couch beside him.

"I said—"

"I know what you said." You interject. "I know. But I don't care. You're just going to have to deal with it."

You ignore the noise he makes in response, opening up the kit and searching through for the supplies you need. 

Bot medical supplies and human weren't so different, you'd quickly found out once they'd become part of your day to day. They could still get hurt, still suffer just as much. Still die. 

You shake the thought off, grabbing the gauze and turning back to nod at him. "Shirt off."

"Gladly." He purrs, starting to lift it off and remove it.

You tsk. "Stop that."

"Oh, but you make it so,"—he coughs, groaning as he finally gets the clothing off, throwing it away in agitation, another cough—"Inticing."

You repress the eye roll you want to give him. Instead leaning in to inspect the damage a bit closer, Just a slice, across the equivalent of his rib cage. Not deep, only on the surface, but still an issue all the same. You search around for something to  soak up what's there, and Sun offers his shirt. 

You raise a brow. He shrugs. "It's ruined anyway, might as well put it to good use."

You take it, wiping away the oil and staining the shirt in the process.

Quiet as you work, cleaning and bandaging the wound. 

"I could have sewed it for you, if you wanted." You say. 

A click. "I wouldn't ask that of you."

"Why not? Why wouldn't you?" You ask. "You never—" You hold your tongue. 

A hand on your cheek, guiding you to look up at him. "Never what?"

"I want to take care of you. Help you. You, you never let me. And it's not fair. Do you know how badly I want to? Do you know how much it aches that I feel like I can't do anything for you?" You lean into his touch, taking hold of his hand to make sure he doesn't pull away, retreat. That he listens to you. "I just, you do so much, for me, for Dazzle, for everyone. Why can't you let that favor be returned? Just, let me. For once. Please."

As you speak—beg, really—Sun's grip on your cheek tightens. Glancing up to him you can see the confliction in his eyes. Something he doesn't let slip often. Only in moments like this, late nights like this. Or if he's not sober, but you know that's not the case at the moment. 

When he starts to let you go you panic. But he hushes you, patting beside himself on the couch. It clicks, and you nod, standing up. 

Before you can sit down however, he takes hold of your waist, pulling you into his lap. You yelp quietly, and he shushes you again, chuckling softly. You huff, cheeks burning as his arms wrap around you, burying his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder. 

He kisses you there, once, twice. You clear your throat, as much as you'd like to turn this into something else, you spilled far too much of your heart out for such. But, unfortunately, he doesn't take the hint. 

He keeps going, urgent, desperate. And all it does is reignite your initial anger. 

"Stop, stop, that's enough!" You push your hands into his chest, forcing him to stop. 

He meets your gaze, confusion in his expression and it puts you over the edge. 

You shake your head, cheeks burning in rage. "You can't just fix everything by distracting me, Sun. That's not how this is supposed to work. That's not how we're supposed to work. I just, did you even listen to a word I just said?"

"I, of course I did but—"

"But what? Why is it so hard to get through to you that I feel like nothing compared to you!?" Your voice raises louder than you meant it to. 

He takes a moment, then a sneer appears on his features. "Oh, don't kid yourself you and I both know that's not true."

"I, you think I'm joking? You think I'm not dead serious?" 

"It's a ridiculous notion. I'm not buying into it." He waves his hand, flippant. 

Your hands grip your head teeth gritted and tears pricking your eyes. "Sun, I feel like a parasite. Leeching off you and everything you give me. And while that might be the ideal relationship for you, it's fucking not for me."

The tears flow freely now, you let them. You sit there, in his lap at past 3 in the morning. crying like a baby. You just, you love him so, so much, but he just. won't. let. you. 

"Why can't you let me love you?" You sniffle out. "That's all I want. Just please, please let me love you. I can't say it anymore than this. This is all I have."

He hugs you then, tight, close as you can get. You can just barely make out murmured apologies against your shoulder. You can't tell if it makes your sniffling better or worse. 

Sun sighs, pulling back to look at you. His hand comes up to hold your chin wiping away a tear. His thumb pressing against your lips, as he shakes his head. "You know I love you, right?"

You nod. "I do. But do you know I love you too?"

"Of course I do." He's worried now, sitting forward. "I know, but I need to—"

You put your hand over his mouth, frown ever present on your face. "You give too much. To everyone. It's going to kill you one day, Sun."

Quiet. You wait for another smart quip, but it doesn't happen. 

"Do you think?" He asks, voice so small in that moment. 

It gives you pause, so you speak just as soft, gentle, encouraging. "I know how much you care. I really, really do. And I know how much you want to keep everyone safe, do your job, and so on. But you're only one man, Sun." 

Your thumb traces over his cheek, gaze focused on the twitch of his lips as he takes in your words. 

"It's... Hard. To set a limit. To find that point and draw the line. Because what if, when I do that, someone gets hurt? What if it's not enough? What if—" He cuts himself off, turmoil evident in his gaze. 

You press your lips to his then, pulling away after a moment. Though you don't ignore how he tries to follow after you. "You can't do everything, love. You, you can't save everyone."

His eyes widen then, but then he sighs. 

"I, I suppose you're right." He looks away from you then, but leans further into your touch. "That doesn't make it right, though."

You shake your head. "No, it doesn't."

You shift your grip then, hand moving to one of his rays, tracing patterns there. He groans, pressing against your hand, so you lift your other one to further your efforts. He practically melts into your touch. 

You continue your ministrations, and while you're at it, hum a quiet tune. You see the stress, the frustration, the conflict, disappear from him bit by bit. You feel it leave yourself as well. 

"You're quite good at this. Have a told you that before?" Sun questions, head now resting on your shoulder once more as you trace and press into his shoulders and back with your fingers. 

You chuckle. "A few times. Though, you seem to forget whenever I offer when we're not fighting."

"We do that a lot, don't we?" He mutters. "I'm sorry."

You click your tongue. "Takes two to tango, you know. I'm just as much at fault."

"Two to tango yes, but when one is dancing on the cliff's edge it doesn't help."

You scoff, but he continues. 

"I just, it's hard to give my trust to just anyone. I think you've noticed that by now. And it's not that I don't trust you it's just, I don't trust others. Or myself, for that matter." His hands, which had been resting on your waist, squeeze you slightly. "The others, I have to let it go and assume they'll be safe. Dazzle, I'm still working on it, I'll admit it. But you..." He trails off, grip not easing up in the slightest. 

You huff. "I know. I'm not fast enough. Not strong enough. I get it—" You're cut off by a smashing of his lips to yours, and he keeps you in place by moving his hands to hold you against him. You finally have to tap his shoulder to get him to pull away, gasping for breath for a moment. 

"It's not that at all." Sun shakes his head. "Not in the slightest bit. I never should have said that, done that. You just wanted to learn and I—I was afraid. And I let that fear get the better of me, took it out on you, when you're the one I want to protect."

His hands slip from your face then. 

"And I know, I know that you can protect yourself. You've proven that time and time again. You're brave, selfless, grounding, you keep me sane, truly. But I can't help but worry about what would happen if I lost you."

"You wouldn't lose me." You wrap your arms around his neck. "I'm much too stubborn to die."

Sun looks up to you. Then, he laughs, a full-bodied, true laugh. The likes of which you haven't heard in some time from him. 

He kisses you again, just a peck this time. 

"I suppose that's true, you are."

You chuckle, leaning your forehead against his.

Another pause. 

"I'll work on being more... open, to your help. And your touch. And you love." With each sentence he punctuate it with another kiss. "I promise."

You sigh, giggling. "I promise I'll be more open to you acting like a guard dog. Sometimes."

"Sometimes is enough."

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

Hope you enjoyed Spine! And that you had a wonderful Valentine's ^^

Adding the tag list since it's writing stuff

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[gravedwe11er]

Echoes through the cosmos

The final part of my Mecha AU coswave fic is done! It took me a while, but here it is. Parts one and two can be found here, and I hope you enjoy!

AU by @keferon and the base idea came from my friend @cosmique-oddity

Things are changing for Cosmos, in more ways than one. It doesn't have to be a bad thing.

“Greetings, little watcher,” comes from his headphones, completely out of nowhere, and Cosmos nearly stumbles on the treadmill.

“Good morning, big watcher,” he teases back, and blames the beginning of a blush spreading across his face on the exercise.

A staticky crackle carries through the tiny speakers. “Designation: Soundwave.” says the mech firmly, and Cosmos can’t help but burst into laughter.

Things have been better lately. That first bit of honesty seems to have opened the floodgates, and Soundwave’s voice is now a near-constant companion in his ear. The mech still prefers texting or using his vocal modulator, but every now and then, Cosmos gets to hear the real him, and he treasures every instance accordingly. And if Soundwave’s smooth, almost melodic voice inspires some slightly embarrassing thoughts at times? Well, that’s nobody’s business but his own, really.

“Just returning the favor, Soundwave,” he says, putting emphasis on the name. “It’s only fair to have a nickname for you too, though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Correction: greetings, Cosmos.”

Cosmos snorts. “Alright, alright, I see how it is. But I am going to find a nickname you like eventually, you know. Or, well- at least tolerate.”

“Negative,” comes over the speakers, deadpan as all get out. Cosmos just smiles again, shaking his head, before returning to his exercise.

Yeah, things are good.

-

“Waves.” Cosmos tries, impish grin on his face.

[Designation: Soundwave.]

“Soundy.”

[Negative.]

“Alright, alright,” he says between barely suppressed giggles. “Wavey?”

“No.”

“Sounders!”

The entire screen blacks out. “Wait, no, come back, I’m sorry-“

-

“Do your people have entertainment media? Books, movies, that sort of thing?”

[Affirmative,] appears on a mostly empty screen in front of him- it’s been a calm couple of days, the equipment not registering anything of import and leaving more than enough time for…well, whatever he wants, really. [Written works: currently most commonplace due to prolonged conflict. Holofilms available: old or amateurly produced.]

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. Hollywood has slowed down production as well, quite a bit in the past years.” Getting attacked and smashed to smithereens several times over hadn’t helped much. They’ve always recovered though, actors and writers refusing to give up their art, even if their budgets were cut down severely. “What do you like, then? How do you spend your free time?”

[Free time: rare commodity.] Soundwave writes, and he chuckles because right, fair enough. Head communications officer for an army at war, with four kind-of-not-really kids? That’s got to be busy.

Still, though. “I understand, but surely there’s something you enjoy? Got a favorite book, or a poem?”

“Soundwave: partial to music.” A pause. Then- “Would you like to hear some?”

The offer, along with Soundwave’s real voice, make Cosmos’ heart pick up the pace. Alien music! He’s about to hear real, actual music from another planet! Nodding, he turns to the camera behind him and gives the mech a giddy smile.

Soon enough, a gentle melody begins pouring out of his headphones, and- whatever he’s expected, it was not this. The song - or composition, more like - is alien, oddly complex and unbelievably beautiful.

There are no lyrics, he doesn’t think, but the interplay of different instruments still seems to tell a tale as the song progresses, changing and twisting on itself. It makes him think of two people, of a longing he finds so familiar, of warm clasped hands and stolen moments between the cold of melancholy. He sits in his chair, silent and entranced, as the melody goes through a crescendo, a painful conflict, before mellowing and fading out, like a peaceful embrace of two souls, now finally united for good.

When it’s all over, seconds or minutes or hours later, his vision is blurry with unshed tears. At the other end of the call, he could almost swear he feels Soundwave’s presence, watching him, sharing this moment with him.

Cosmos feels warm.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the receiver, wiping at his eyes but smiling, and he feels more than hears Soundwave’s answering hum. “Could you play it again?” he asks after a few minutes, and when the melody fills his ears once more, he simply closes his eyes and lets himself be carried away.

-

“I forgot to ask before, but was that Cybertronian music?”

“Negative,” comes through his headphones. “Composition: created by organic species.”

“Oh!” he wasn’t really expecting that, but then again, maybe it should have. it didn’t sound very, ah, mechanical? “Do you have any more from the composer? Or at least the same people?”

“Soundwave: in possession of one more unfinished melody from composer. Cosmos: interested in listening?”

“Gladly. Why was it not finished, though, do you know? Did something happen to the composer?”

“Affirmative. Species: nearly eradicated by quintesson forces. Creator of piece: deceased.”

Oh. That’s- he doesn’t know what to say. He’d never really given much thought to how other species might have fared against the invasion. Or that they might have actually lost.

“I’d still like to hear it, I think,” he says quietly. There’s nothing he can do for them now, for these aliens he’d never even met, but- he can remember them, at least. Keep a tiny piece of them alive through this.

As the new melody surrounds him with its unearthly tones, Cosmos wonders what Soundwave would keep of humans, if they lose this fight. What Soundwave would keep of him.

-

It dwells on his mind for weeks after, filling his empty hours with maudlin thoughts. He knows by now how unbelievably long a cybertronian’s life is, that his own lifespan is but a speck of dust by comparison, but still. Would the mech keep his face in his memory banks, or the human music playlist he’d made for him? Would he carry a piece of Cosmos with him into the distant stars, keep him close to his spark, or would all they shared be forgotten?

How much does this - whatever they have - matter?

Because it matters to Cosmos. He’s not sure when that happened, but his fascination with the alien mech and enjoyment of his company became- more. Much more. Now, when his soul aches for the presence of another person, it’s not his friends on earth he imagines being held by, or his parents. It’s large silver servos, careful and precise. it’s staring up at a glowing red visor and watching the sun gleam of grey and blue plating. It’s just- Soundwave.

And, well. What is he supposed to do with that?

He knows Soundwave likes him, yes. Enjoys his company, sure, he wouldn’t bother talking with him so frequently otherwise. But is there more to it? Soundwave is a hard person to read, especially with their only method of communication being text and radio. Cosmos had no way to know if he’s like a- a pleasant coworker to the mech, or a true companion, someone actually important.

He doesn’t know, but by god does he hope.

The song they’re listening to comes to an end, bringing Cosmos out of his thoughts. And, yeah, that’s something they do now, listen to music together, looking for things the other might enjoy. That’s… that could mean something, right? Only people who actually care about each other do that, no?

A surprisingly loud, staticky hiss sounds in his ears all of a sudden, and Cosmos flinches. “Soundwave, what-“

“Lost light: arrival impending.”

“Wh- really? When?”

“ETA: thirteen hours local time.”

Oh.

Of course.

It’s just- over the past two months, he’d somehow managed to completely forget about incoming the ship. He’d been so focused on his growing relationship with Soundwave that the knowledge of why the mech was actually here slipped his mind. Now, with reality of the situation staring him in the face, a jittery sort of dread fills his heart.

“Soundwave,” he says, wringing his hands in his lap, “how’s- what’s going to happen now?”

“Negotiation: will begin with human governments. Jazz: will be returned home, accompanied by Prowl.”

This is the first time he’s hearing of this Prowl person, and he will ask later, but- “And what about you? What will you do now?”

“Soundwave: will remain on Earth, join negotiation process.” There’s a pause, then- “I do not wish to cease our interactions, even once my work here is done. If you call, I will always listen, friend Cosmos.”

And- it’s a relief, hearing that. A huge weight falls off of Cosmos’ shoulders, joy making his heart beat overtime, however- things will undeniably change now. Their mostly quiet, familiar routine won’t last once first contact begins in earnest, and they’ll both be busy with their respective work. He’s delighted to hear he won’t lose Soundwave’s voice in his ear, but-

His stay at the station ends in less than two weeks. He won’t get to actually see Soundwave, most likely, not again. Won’t ever be this close to him again, not in person. And that’s- he thinks of the emergency repair space suit shoved in the storage compartment, of the ticking clock, and makes a decision.

“Soundwave? You said you edited yourself out of footage in real time, when you first arrived here, right? Could you do it again?”

“Affirmative. Query: reason for question?”

“I just- there’s something I need to do.”

-

He approaches the station, gliding through the vacuum of space with ease. It’s a tiny thing, as many earth things are- barely bigger than him in root mode. He’s once again reminded of an earth saying, stating that good things come in small packages, and though he’s not fully certain of its original, intended meaning, he finds himself agreeing nonetheless.

Watching the precious, fragile little person climbing out of the hatch with anxious, unpracticed motions, it feels truer than ever before.

The man’s suit is a colorful thing, yellow and green with red accents, his head surrounded by a fragile looking bubble of glass, protecting him from certain death in the cold, airless void. His hair is a bright, cheerful red as well, only outshined by the force of his smile as pushes off the hull of the station and into Soundwave’s waiting servos.

“Hello, little watcher,” he says, leaving the vocoder off and letting his true voice sound through the suit’s speakers.

Somehow, the human’s smile grows wider, and Soundwave feels his spark pulse with fondness. “Hello, Soundwave,” he says softly, blinking up at him with a combination of awe and unbridled joy. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

If it’s anything like what he feels, Soundwave thinks as he brings the man closer, gently pressing his forehelm to the top of Cosmos’ helmet, then he can probably imagine.

[chippedshake]

My gift for @an-akward-ace as part of the gift exchange :))

@outsiders-gift-exchanges

“Mama?” Darry asks as he creeps out of the hallway and into the living room. Mama’s on the couch, feet tucked underneath her, book in her hands. She looks up and worry crawls onto her face. 

“Darry? What’s wrong?”

He walks up to the couch tentatively and sits down next to her. “Am I a bad person?”

“What?” Mama closes her book and puts it on the couch armrest. “Why would you think that?”

“Sometimes— sometimes I think I don’t…” He looks at her guiltily for a moment before looking away. “Sometimes I think Ponyboy doesn’t love me.”

“Honey,” Mama murmurs, putting her hand on Darry’s shoulder, “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t—” Darry looks down again. “I don’t know. When I told him to go away because I wanted to play with Mark and Andrew he started crying and wouldn’t talk to me for a week. An’ he gets way more mad at me than at Soda but I’m a lot less annoying than Soda.”

Mama runs her hand through Darry’s hair and he curls up against her, just young enough to not be embarrassed. “Oh, Darry, that don’t mean he don’t love you. It just means he gets cranky sometimes. Maybe y’all mess up sometimes, but that don’t mean nothin’. Everyone does.” 

She pauses for a moment. 

“You ever notice that sometimes we’re all real quiet at dinner and Pa an’ me won’t look at each other?” Darry nods slowly. “Love ain’t perfect, and it ain’t about wantin’ to be with someone all the time, or never gettin’ mad. Only place you’ll see that is in the movies.”

Darry nods again, but doesn’t answer. 

“Say— weren’t you reading Ponyboy a story before he went to sleep?”

Darry looks up at her and nods. “We’ve read it a bunch before but he never wants ta read anything else.”

“Does anyone else ever read it to him?”

“The story?” Mama nods. “No. Says he only likes how I read it. But it’s just ‘cause I do more voices than you.”

“How ‘bout walking home from school? Pa could go pick him up in the car, wouldn’t that be faster?”

“Yeah…” Darry’s not quite sure where this is going. “But that way he knows what the city’s like and doesn’t get lost when he’s older and stuff.”

“Right. What about how Ponyboy asked for a football for his birthday even though he’d been talking about that colouring book for months? What about how he won’t go to sleep without a ‘Darry hug’ because he says it’s better than other hugs?”

Darry doesn’t know what to say so he looks down at his hands. 

“Love ain’t perfect, honey. You don’t always wanna be with someone and sometimes you’re gonna get mad and, Dar,—” He looks up at her “ — that’s fine. Love’s in the little things that add up, and yeah, sometimes something’s gonna subtract some, but that don’t take away from all of what you’ve built.” 

…

Darry steps into the house with a loud sigh. 

No one’s around to hear it. 

He can’t be bothered to take his boots off, no matter how much he dreads having to clean the house afterwards, because it’s just grabbing the grocery list and taking off again. 

Just grabbing the gro— oh, shit. Where is it? 

A groan starts poking its way out of Darry’s chest. 

Why him? Why now? Why at the end of the work day, when the only thing keeping him standing is the thought of a bath once he gets back? 

He looks around the same place again, hoping the bright yellow sticky note somehow flew under his radar. 

It didn’t. 

In a couple cabinets, on the floor, inside drawers— by the time Darry’s looked through the whole kitchen, he’s shuffled around so much the floor’s covered with dirt. Because his shoes are still on. Because it was supposed to be quick. Because the list was supposed to be right there and it’s actually a tiny thing and he can probably remember everything anyways but the list needed to be there and he doesn’t have the stupid list and he just want to sleep but he need to make dinner and where the fuck is that list—

“Oh, hey, Darry!” Soda walks in and holds the door for Steve, who comes in behind him. Both their arms are full of groceries. 

Everything that was on the list. 

“Thought we’d get ahead on groceries since your shift’s longer’n normal today.”

Steve doesn’t add anything, but grunts in Darry’s general direction, so he gathers it’s a form of greeting.

“Oh,” Darry says, trying to keep his voice calm and hide the fact that he was about to break down because of something as stupid as not finding a sticky note. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Steve says, setting his bag down at the kitchen table. “Old man kicked me out again last week. S’on him.”

…

“Hey, Darry?” Darry stops and turns around from where he was heading towards the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Pone?” 

“Can you stand there for a second and put your hands behind your back?”

Darry stares at him, confused, before doing as he asks. 

“And tilt your head a bit to the right— wait, no, my right, your left.”

A couple moments go by. Ponyboy’s scribbling something in his notebook, looking up at Darry and back down quickly.  

“Can I move now?”

“Just one more second…” He erases something, draws it again, and holds his notebook up next to Darry. “Okay, thanks.”

Darry heads towards him. “Can I see it?”

Ponyboy covers his notebook hurriedly. “When it’s finished.”

“Okay, okay.” Darry holds his hands up in mock innocence.

…

Darry tries not to worry too much about Ponyboy. Their parents were never very controlling, and generally any of them could leave for hours without facing too much questioning. 

He tries not to, but the problem is that Ponyboy never thinks, no matter how much Darry tries to get him to. He’d mouth off to a Soc because he just didn’t notice they had a knife, or walk home all alone at night without realising he was holding a neon sign that said “jump me”. Honestly, even being run over because he didn’t bother to look both ways is an option at this point. 

“We didn’t get into any trouble,” Johnny says. Darry blinks at him. Pony and Johnny have just come back from the drive-in — they went alone this week — and Ponyboy’s gone to his room to get something to show Johnny, who’s wandered into the kitchen to talk to Darry. 

The last time the two of them talked alone must be at least a year ago. 

“Weren’t even any Socs nearby. All in their cars.”

And without another word, Johnny walks out of the kitchen as Ponyboy comes storming back into the living room.

…

“Kicked out again?”

“Got mad at me for bein’ away too much and decided to kick me out.”

“Huh.”

“I saw y’all didn't have any tomatoes so I picked some up on the way. Got a discount, too.”

“Yeah?”

Steve wiggles his fingers. “Five finger discount.”

…

Darrel Shaynne Curtis is defying all the laws of physics and biology because he is utterly dead inside and yet somehow still walking. If he has to take another step his joints will fall apart like rusty gears on an old clock. 

And for some reason his house has to be full of fucking people. 

People he loves, but people nonetheless. 

Annoying people. Loud people. People who apparently do not know the definition of shutting the fuck up. 

No amount of affection for the gang can stop Darry from crossing the line into homicidal if one more person screams across the room for something completely unnecessary. 

“Hey, Superman.” Dally says with a light smirk as he sinks into the couch next to Darry. 

Darry looks up and nods. 

“How ya doin’?” Now here’s the part where Darry’s supposed to say “meh” or “as good as I can be, I guess” or something along those lines. Or he should at least shrug. 

All of that requires energy, though, energy that Darry does not have, so he just hums. 

“Yeah, I get that.” 

Dally stays next to him, quiet and thoughtful for a moment. 

“Hey, y’all wanna go to the drag races?” 

Dally’s question is met with a chorus of whoops that make Darry’s head throb, and in a matter of minutes, the whole gang’s out the door.  

Dallas walks out the door, then strays back in just before the door closes. He turns the lights off and Darry sighs in relief, the pressure finally gone from his eyes. 

He stops again just before stepping out the door and turns back towards Darry.  

“There’s still some cake left in the freezer, I saved ya a couple slices of bread, and Two-Bit left a bit of peanut butter in the jar.”

Darry musters a soft “thanks”, and Dally nods. 

The door closes with a soft click.

…

“Darry!” Darry raises his eyebrows. He’s just closed the door behind him, work boots still on, and Ponyboy’s running towards him with a grin on his face. 

“Why’re you so happy to see me?”

“I finished it!” Darry blinks at him once. Twice.

“What’d you finish?”

“The drawing!”

Ponyboy holds out his notebook, and right there, in the middle of the page, is Darry. He’s made the kitchen doorway vaguely in the background, but it’s in black and white while Darry is in colour. 

And it’s— well, it’s impressive to say the least. Darry knew that Ponyboy liked to draw — always had his notebook out when he got bored of talking to people, sketching something he wouldn’t let anyone see —, but he didn’t know he could draw well. He always assumed it was like when he used to draw as a kid, only he didn’t want to show them anymore.

“This is…” Darry can’t seem to finish the sentence. He looks up and meets Pony’s eyes. “You made it?” Ponyboy nods, excited. “I— Can you show me whenever you draw stuff? In the future?”

Ponyboy’s eyes seem to almost glow. “Yeah, sure.” 

…

“Ponyboy’s gonna tell you he fell down the stairs today, but Justin Lawson pushed him.” Johnny hesitates for a second. “Second one in the phone book, the first one’s a priest.”

“Right. Thanks.” 

…

“How’d ya know I wanted to be alone?”

Dallas cocks an eyebrow. “You ain’t the first.”

…

“Hey, Superman,” Two-Bit says with a grin as he pointedly closes the door behind him. 

“Hey, Two.” The smile that comes with the greeting is second nature, but Darry’s not entirely sure whether that’s from genuine happiness or getting used to pretending he’s okay. 

“How’s it goin’?” He pulls out a chair and sits down in it backwards, arms resting on the backrest. 

Darry sighs with a sarcastic smile, gesturing at the pile of bills in front of him. 

“It that time again?”

“Was that time last week.”

Two-Bit whistles low. “You got enough?”

“Hope so.”

“Well, if you ain’t… I don’t got money I can give you. Sure someone’s got some, though.” He starts looking around, as if he would find someone to jump for money inside the Curtises' house.

“It’s fine, Two. Don’t worry about it.” Maybe Darry’s smile is wearing a bit thin or the exhaustion is clear on his face, because Two-Bit drops it. 

“Alright.” He looks down, dejected, before lighting up again and looking at Darry, all excited again. “Guess what I found at the store today?”

Darry just raises his eyebrows — a form of rebellion, at this point, considering how the whole gang’s started copying Two-Bit and raising just the one — and tilts his head. 

Two-Bit pulls a plastic bag out from behind his chair — how it got there, don’t ask Darry — and grins at Darry. “Lookit what I got.”

It’s a bag of Lay’s, something Darry and Two-Bit had worked together to swipe dozens of times to fuel Darry’s unhealthy obsession, only —

“They make ‘em in barbecue now. Figured we might as well try ‘em out.”

“Yeah?” Darry grins, and this time it’s genuine. 

Before he can get another word out, Two-Bit’s fist comes flying down onto the bag and makes a sound so loud that if he weren’t watching it happen, Darry’d think a gun had fired.  

At least five chips have gone flying, slamming against the wall, and Darry just knows it’s going to be an absolute pain to clean up. 

Then he makes eye contact with Two-Bit and they burst into uncontrollable, stupid laughter. It’s only once they sober up after a couple minutes that Darry realises just how long it’s been since he’s laughed like that. 

…

“What’re you drawing?”

Ponyboy moves aside to show him it. 

“Oh.”

“Don’t wanna forget him.”

…

“I was talkin’ ta Susie the other day an’ she told me there’s this girl in her class that’ll draw ya stuff if ya pay her, and she cost me extra ‘cause she was scared of her mama findin’ out, but tell me this ain’t worth every penny!”

…

“I hate you!” Ponyboy screams as he storms off into his room. Darry just stares after him, frozen in place.

He doesn’t mean it he doesn’t mean it he doesn’t mean it—

But what if he does?

Love’s in the little things, the little things that add up—

But this feels too big, it’s too much to be just a little setback. Because the little things add up but they also subtract and if you put enough of them together—

There’s a soft knock on the door. Darry sits up from where he’d been in starfish position.

“Yeah?”

The door slowly creaks open. A small figure stands behind it.

“Darry?” Ponyboy stands in the doorway, grabbing onto the frame and avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” 

Darry crosses his legs and sits up straighter, fully waking up. “Yeah, sure, baby.”

Ponyboy walks in and sits on the edge of Darry’s bed, looking down at the sheets instead of at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, tugging at the ends of his hair. It’s getting too long, but he refuses to cut the bleach out of it and Darry doesn’t have it in him to force him to. 

“It’s fine,” Darry says on instinct.

“No, it— it really ain’t. We’re not supposed to fight anymore. We’re not supposed to holler at each other and go to sleep mad. But we do it anyway, and it’s like nothing’s changed since—” He can’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t really need to. 

“Ponyboy…” Darry trails off. What is there to say? Mama would know what to do, she would know what to say so Ponyboy knew that there was a part of Darry’s soul intrinsically tied to his, following him around no matter how far he wandered. 

But Darry doesn’t know how to talk; he hardly knows how to feel. 

Ponyboy looks away from him and stays quiet for a couple moments, playing with the loose strings on Darry’s sheets. 

“Darry?” He looks up.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Darry frowns. “‘Course.”

“And you promise you won’t be mad?” 

“Yeah.”

Ponyboy looks up to catch sight of Darry before his eyes dart away again. 

“Sometimes I— Sometimes I’m scared you don’t love me.” He lets the sentence hang for a couple seconds, lets it fester in the air and seep through Darry’s skin. “I ain’t sayin’ you don’t wanna keep me or that ya don’t care, but I just— I don’t know. Are ya doin’ it all ‘cause you think you should?”

He looks up again — furtive, small, scared — and looks back down at the sheets.  

“God, Pony,” Darry says softly, “‘Course I love ya. Just ‘cause we fight don’t mean nothing.” Ponyboy still won’t meet his eyes. With every second that goes by, the crack in Darry’s heart grows a bit wider. “C’mere.” He pats the spot beside him. 

Ponyboy looks up in surprise. He gets up tentatively and walks over to the other side of the bed, where Darry’s sitting. The moment he’s sat down, Darry wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls Ponyboy towards him. Ponyboy tenses, and for a moment Darry’s sure he’s made a mistake, that this wasn’t what he needed, before he slowly relaxes, his face burrows into Darry’s shoulder — Jesus he’s tall now, he used to barely reach his chest — and he hugs Darry back like he needs it for the first time in… far too long. 

“Love ain’t always pretty, Pony,” Darry whispers into his hair, “It ain’t always perfect and happy and nice, but it’s there. S’why there’s always Pepsi in the fridge and why I always ask where you’re goin’ when you start runnin’ out the door and why Soda and me listen to you talk about your books.” Ponyboy laughs softly, muffled by Darry’s shoulder, and Darry smiles — proud, fond, relieved. “Love ain’t in some big moment, it’s in the little things, so sometimes it can be easy to miss. But it’s there, I promise.” Darry forces himself to pull Ponyboy away from him and take him by the shoulders so they can meet eyes. “It’ll always be there, alright?”

Did I get it right, Mama?

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Bargain Price

The Professionals is a crossover of In the Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez In which Tommy learns the price of trying to bargain. (Follow up to Allowances) CW: Long term captivity, violent whumper, many graphic threats, beating, biting, bchoking

Fletcher let Tommy stew for a bit before they came to find him. They enjoyed their dinner and took a moment to decide what they were going to do to him. 

When they opened the door to his room, it was empty.

Or – mostly empty. Fletcher was good at scanning rooms, and it only took them a moment to spot a bit of a pale foot under the bed. They stepped lightly in and crouched, snagging his ankle and dragging him out.

Tommy yelped as he was wrenched from his hiding spot, immediately putting his hands up in a weak attempt to shield himself. Any vestiges of bravado he had managed earlier were long gone now. Fletcher looked down at him as he cowered at their boots.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Fletcher – Fletcher,” his voice broke. “I’m s-so sorry, I don’t know what I was– I never should have– I can–” Tommy hiccuped out a sob and covered his face with his hands.

Fletcher put a finger to their lips and waited for Tommy to quiet down.

“If you want to act like a child and throw a tantrum, then I’m canceling your playdate.” 

Fletcher pulled their phone from their pocket and opened up Buck’s contact.

“Wait! Wait no, no nononono Fletcher, wait, please!” Tommy scrambled up onto his knees, clinging to Fletcher’s thigh frantically. 

Fletcher held the phone up above their head to keep it out of Tommy’s reach.

“What? You want something worse than being grounded?”

“Please, please, anything else, I’ll – I’ll pay for the wall, and – and you can hurt me, please please just don’t call him!”

“Oh ho, buddy, you are absolutely paying for the wall,” Fletcher sneered. “Do you know how long that’s going to take you to pay off? You can forget about buying anything any time soon.”

It took a moment, but then seemed to fully dawn on Tommy how much it would cost him. Fletcher could see him trying to do the math in his head, the dread on his face as it really sank in. Five dollars a week couldn’t get much, and months would stack up fast.

“I…” He gulped, his eyes watering. “I know, I know, I’ll do it, but please don’t take Buck away.”

Fletcher eyed Tommy for a moment.

“You said I could hurt you? What do you want me to do to you instead? What do you think is enough to make up for it?”

“Well, yes, I mean…..um…” Tommy’s eyes darted nervously around the room, as if he would find something that might help him. He wet his lips. 

“You could…you could…beat me...”

“I could beat you and still send Buck away,” Fletcher retorted. “I can beat you for stuttering when you talk to me. I could beat you for anything, whenever I want. If you want me to change my mind, you have to come up with something enticing.”

Tommy blinked away tears. “You can… you can use a knife?” He offered tentatively.

“Yeah?” Fletcher asked mockingly. “I can use a knife? Can I take off patches of your skin with it? Can I wedge the point under your fingernails?”

Tommy’s jaw moved, but no words came out.

“Can I chop off a finger?” Fletcher continued. “One of your ears? Can I stick it in your eye? Can I open up your fucking veins? Is that okay with you?!”

Their words grew more aggressive and they grabbed the front of Tommy’s shirt.

“I… I…” Tommy stammered.

“What, you don’t want that? Well, can I do something else? What about your bones, Thunderbird, am I allowed to break those? Can I knock out your teeth? Can I hold your head under water? Can I break out the car battery and the jumper cables? Can I burn the bottoms of your feet so you have to crawl? Can I wrap my hands around your throat and tighten them until you stop moving and your last thought before you pass out is that you hope to fucking god I let go before you die? Huh? Can I do any of those fucking things to you?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Fletcher slapped Tommy hard across the face, swinging it to the side.

“Wise the fuck up, kid,” Fletcher snapped. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. Maybe it worked for you before where you bat your fucking eyelashes and get on your knees and you get out of whatever you had coming, but I don’t give a shit about any of that. You take what I give you.”

“Yes, Fletcher, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy cried, words coming out barely above a whisper. His teary eyes tracked the movement of the phone in their hand. “I’ll take whatever you give me. Can you please hang up now?”

It took Fletcher a second to process. They looked at their phone and saw the seconds ticking up, timing the phone call.

“Oh shit,” they muttered. They put the phone to their ear. “Buck, you there?”

No answer. Must be a voicemail.

Fletcher ended the call. They hesitated a moment, then punched Tommy hard in the chest.

Tommy made a breathy grunt as the wind was knocked out of him. He dropped to the floor, curled up on his side, and tried a few frightening times to draw a breath before one actually came.

“Don’t punch my fucking wall,” Fletcher growled, standing up. “We aren’t finished with this conversation.”

Fletcher stepped forwards over Tommy and planted their boot down firmly on the side of his face, pinning his head to the floor. He was already trembling with fear, struggling to catch his breath. They called Buck again, putting it on speaker and letting the automatic voicemail answer message play.

“Hey, didn’t mean to call you the first time. Hit the button accidentally. But, look, I am canceling your next visit because Tommy is grounded. I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

Tommy whimpered pitifully on the ground, but didn’t protest.

Fletcher ended the call and sent Buck a text.

Ignore the first voicemail.

“Alright, get up,” Fletcher instructed, stepping off of Tommy. He shakily got to his feet. “Follow me.”

Tommy slinked along after Fletcher, but hung back when Fletcher opened the basement door. His chest tightened. 

“After you.”

Fletcher gestured down the dark stairwell. As much as Tommy didn’t want to go down there, it didn’t seem like a good time to disobey. 

You’ve been in the basement before, he told himself as he forced his feet down each step. You were fine.

But Fletcher wasn’t mad at you then.

Tommy hesitated at the bottom of the stairs as Fletcher pulled the string on the overhead lights. They stood in the empty part of the basement. Nothing but a cement floor with a drain. They gestured for Tommy to join them.

Tommy’s heart was racing. He didn’t feel like he was piloting his body as it approached Fletcher. Instinctively, he began to lower himself to the floor when Fletcher cut him off.

“Don’t get on your fucking knees unless I tell you,” they growled.

“S-Sorry,” Tommy said, quickly straightening up. 

“You wanna fight me?”

Tommy was so taken aback he was sure he heard them wrong. His brain was making things up again. 

“What - sorry - what did you say?”

“I said,” Fletcher stepped closer, invading Tommy’s space. “Do you want to fight me?”

“N-No, no, Fletcher, of course I-”

“You wanted to hit me earlier,” Fletcher asserted. “You hit the wall instead. Isn’t that right? It wasn’t the wall you were angry at.”

Tommy shrank back. “I was just… I didn’t…”

“Well, I’m giving you the opportunity,” Fletcher said. “I’ll even let you start.”

Tommy was wide eyed and frozen like a deer in headlights. Fletcher waited, staring him down with a cold gaze.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Tommy said in a small voice.

Fletcher shoved Tommy in the chest with both hands, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Let me reframe this,” they said, pacing after him. “You can stand there and take a beating, or you can fight back. I am giving you a chance to fight back. Clearly it’s something you need to get out of your system, so you don’t go punching holes in my walls.”

They reached out and grabbed Tommy by the face, squeezing in his cheeks. With a sharp smile they said, “Aren’t I so fucking nice?”

They let go and gave Tommy a slap, but not nearly as hard as they had earlier.

“C’mon. You were a street punk. You never learned how to fight?”

“Fletcher, I don’t…” Tommy put up his hands. “Please, I don’t want to do this!”

Fletcher easily reached through his defense to grab Tommy by the front of his shirt, and punched him across the face.

“You want to stand there and get hit like you always do?” They snapped. “Don’t you want to hit back for once in your miserable life?”

Tommy’s head was swimming. Pain bloomed across his jaw from the strike. His fear and anger rose in his gut, but he felt paralyzed to defend himself. The product of years of grueling training to never resist, to never fight back. Now he had a chance, and he was terrified. When he saw Fletcher raise their fist again, he threw up his arms to guard his face. 

Fletcher’s knuckles collided with the bones of Tommy’s thin arms. He managed to keep his defenses up, so Fletcher went low and drove their fist into his stomach. When Tommy doubled over, dropping his arms to his abdomen, Fletcher smacked him across the face.

“Fucking do something,” they snarled. “This isn’t over until you fight back.”

Something in Tommy snapped. 

He lunged at Fletcher, hand flying out to take a swipe at their face, his fingers curled into claws.

Fletcher managed to block the attack, grabbing his arm and pushing it away. Tommy immediately countered with his other hand, yanking his arm free to make mad swipes and rain fists down wherever he could.

Fletcher parried a strike and shot a fist out at Tommy’s stomach again. He folded slightly but was being carried by the adrenaline, flinging himself back at Fletcher. 

Fletcher blocked his first arm, but the second managed to slip through. Tommy’s nails clawed across Fletcher’s cheek and eyelid. 

Fletcher hissed and shoved Tommy back. He charged forward, head down, colliding with Fletcher like he was trying to tackle them. Fletcher had to brace their feet but remained upright easily. They even let out a small laugh before driving their elbow down into his back. 

Tommy jerked and grunted at the impact but didn’t let go. He tried to strike with his knees and kick at the inside of Fletcher’s legs. Fletcher took the opportunity to pull him off his balance, throwing him to the floor.

Tommy held fast to Fletcher’s shirt, pulling them down with him.

Fletcher could feel their own balance start to go and aimed their fall to land with their knee on Tommy’s stomach. He let out an oof but didn’t stop. Instead he reached up and snagged a fistful of Fletcher’s hair.

In the old days, Fletcher had kept their head buzzed for this reason. Having it used against them now gave them an instinctive jolt of panic, as well as anger. 

If Tommy wanted to go low - scratching, grappling, hair pulling - Fletcher would meet him there. They landed their hand on his face and dug their thumb into his eye socket.

Tommy let out a groan through gritted teeth and twisted his face away to shake off the hand, then back to sink his teeth into it. All without loosening his grip on Fletcher’s hair.

Fletcher let out a roar of pain and tore their hand away. 

Enough fucking around.

They drove their fist down hard into the center of Tommy’s face. They could feel his nose crunch beneath their knuckles.

Tommy relinquished his grip, both hands moving toward his face, but Fletcher caught his arm and bit back, clamping their jaw down on his forearm.

Tommy yelled out in pain. His face was painted red from the blood pouring out his nose like Fletcher had struck oil. He was no longer struggling, just trying to curl in defensively once more.

Fletcher released and stood up. They leaned down and hauled Tommy up by the front of his shirt, putting him in a sitting position.

Tommy was breathing heavily through his mouth, head hanging low, blood running freely down his chin and dripping into his lap. Fletcher took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head up to look at them. Tommy braced for impact.

“Feel better?” Fletcher asked scornfully.

“No,” Tommy said, voice muddled by a clogged nose. Blood sprayed off his lips when he spoke.

“Was it worth it?”

“No,” Tommy groaned. With his nose broken, he had to pant for air through his mouth, blood tingeing his teeth red. Fletcher’s other hand went to his collar, gripping it tight in their fist so it pulled against his throat. Tommy’s hands fluttered around their forearm, wanting to pull them off but unable to muster the strength. He’d already lost - no need to keep digging deeper. 

“Did we learn something?” Fletcher asked, tugging sharply on the collar while keeping him in place with their fist his hair. 

“Y-yes Fletcher, please don’t hit me anymore, I’m sorry,” Tommy pleaded. His voice was congested, and blood was starting to spread through the fabric of his shirt as it streamed down off his face. 

Fletcher cocked their head to the side, considering him. Tommy took the respite to wheeze, struggling not to cough up the blood filling his mouth into Fletcher’s face. 

“Your place is right here, under my boot. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Fletcher.” 

They shook his head by their fist in his hair and he whimpered, clenching his eyes closed against the pain hammering inside his head. 

“Should I be merciful?” Fletcher asked, their voice low. Tommy cracked an eye open, trying to tell if they were asking, or just talking to themselves. They looked pissed, but alive, excited. 

Beg, Tommy, beg for it, a voice urged him. It spoke in Caius’s voice, so close he could feel his breath against his ear. 

“P-please, please Fletcher, you’ve let me - let me live here and I forgot to be grateful, I’m so grateful, please, please don’t hurt me anymore, don’t let me – don’t let me lose the mercy you’ve shown, please, I know my place, please, please don’t kill me, I’ll be good!” Tommy hiccuped, sobs breaking through as the last of his adrenaline rush abandoned him.

Fletcher let him beg, leaning back to take in the full picture. They finally relinquished their fist in his hair to stroke his face with an unexpected softness. Tommy twitched weakly, waiting for more punishment. Instead, the hand wiped his tears, then dropped away. Fletcher placed a boot on Tommy’s leg, holding him in place. With their other hand, they lifted the collar.

The leather dug into Tommy’s throat, digging under his chin and pressing against his windpipe.  It was hard to draw in any breath, and his shallow gasps punctuated the thick silence between them.

They played with him like that for a bit, letting go just when the world started to grey out, returning as soon as he managed a gulp of air. When they finally let go, Tommy was dazed, his eyes unfocused. Fletcher relented and stepped off of him. When they released their grip on the collar holding him up, Tommy drooped forward limply. 

“Forget your allowance until I think you’ve paid for the repair – which you’ll be doing, and doing right. No play dates until you learn some self control. And if I hear a single word about it, I’ll make what I’ve done to you today feel like a vacation. You understand me?”

It took him a moment to process their words, but then Tommy gave a shaky nod. Fletcher leaned in and patted his cheek. 

“Good answer.”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[ingravinoveritas]

GT is really trying to make the Baftas about her on her Ig huh

(Grouping together for ease of responding.)

I've seen several mentions/had folks talking to me in DM about Georgia's Insta stories earlier today. I'll put some screenshots here so we can discuss:

I feel like this all starts with yesterday, so let's quickly recap: Last night, David appeared on the One Show. Georgia came along and watched the show backstage, and posted an Insta story of him on the TV screen, in color. She posted nothing related to David and Valentine's Day, despite having made a post about him every year for the last several years. Today, she posted about BAFTA preparations. Two photos of David, both again in black-and-white, and two photos in color, one of which featured her calling a bag of skincare products "my valentine."

The first thing that comes to mind is the songs that are used on some of these stories. For three out of four, the songs are upbeat and happy, which seems to contrast starkly with the almost somber tone of these pictures. It reminds me of the song "I Am A Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel, where the music is cheerful and up tempo, yet the lyrics are much darker and full of pain/sadness. So if you're only looking at what's on the surface, it causes you to miss what is going on underneath.

It would also be very easy to overlook that these stories are all related to an awards show--that David is hosting for a second time, no less. Because there isn't really anything celebratory about any of these. Just looking at the captions/tags, Georgia seems to be showing more enthusiasm for receiving free skincare products than for anything else. And in both pictures of David, he is doing something else/just trying to exist while she photographs him. In the picture in the car, he seems to be looking at the National Theatre, and despite sitting next to her, it feels like he is about a million miles away--that same feeling of preoccupation/tiredness that we saw last night.

And then there's the last piece of these stories, which is that the photos of David are once again in black-and-white. I've said this previously, but we are now long past the point where the B&W makes sense for legal reasons or anything having to do with the show. Let's also look at what's happened over the last few weeks: The fan taking a picture with David in the airport, the photo of David behind the bar in a pub in Glasgow this week, and then the full-on hair reveal last night, all in color. Contrast that with the video of David dancing to Sabrina Carpenter, the WOS acceptance speech, and now these photos, all in black and white, and all taken/filmed by Georgia.

Looking at everything together, I think David never cared about hiding his hair, while Georgia and Anna knew/know the fans have wanted to see dyed hair, and have viewed their Instagrams as a source for pictures. So holding the promise and possibility of seeing that is a guaranteed way to keep getting clicks and drive engagement, especially given how many fans took screenshots and got excited every time Georgia or Anna added a new story. What became a joke at the fandom's expense has now backfired, and I truly don't think there was ever going to be a "big reveal" or that either of them intended to post a picture of the dyed hair in color.

To be clear, there is no part of me that takes joy in any of this, and I do not wish for either David or Georgia to be unhappy or miserable. But I can't dismiss the almost painful gut reaction I had to these Insta stories--how "off" the vibes are, and how this all seems to be about much more than just hair dye.

What will happen at the BAFTAs tomorrow is still anyone's guess--Michael is not listed as a special guest or as a presenter (though he did present an award last year, as I recall), so who knows if he will even be there--but I am honestly hoping that things will be okay. For everyone's sake...

[strawbearry-writes]

"Missed your muffins,"

a story about amy owning a cute bakery, and sonic coming to visit her often!

tags- fluff! sfw f/m

~~~

Whoosh!

A blue hedgehog was running around town to practice the next time he needed to beat his enemy. Well, that was until he caught a familiar sight through time.

Skkrt!

He stopped at a building with a wooden sign above the doors, saying “The Rose Cafe.” A pretty little bakery with roses painted on the outer walls, which were painted in different shades of red and pink. It was small but people would come often, mostly for the homemade rose matcha latte. One of them, being the blue blur himself. Whenever he’s not busy or bored he goes to the cafe, but he doesn’t usually go just for the homemade goods.

As he opened the door, a little jingle of the bell was heard. It alerted a pink hedgehog with a bob and red headband, behind a counter, who was cleaning it.

“Sonic!”

Amy Rose was the one who opened this store, whenever she wasn’t too busy helping Sonic and the crew, she opened her cafe, and baked delicious pastries. They were family recipes that she wanted to share with everyone. As you would assume the bakery would open on an irregular schedule, but it was usually everyday from 10am-4:00pm. It was currently 3:15 p.m, which isn’t her busiest time, so there were only around 2-3 people here.

She would usually have people help but it seemed that she was alone, or maybe they were baking.

“Hey Ames! How are ya?” Sonic asked as he made his way to the counter. “Hope I’m not distracting you from anything important?”

“Oh, not really. We’re not really busy here anyway.” Amy responded casually while her gaze on the counter she’s cleaning. “I’m just taking a break, meanwhile knuckles and silver are helping me with baking.”

She looked at Sonic slyly, while saying, “Are you actually gonna buy anything this time?” Sonic felt warmth coming to his cheeks, but he still tried to play it cool as he hoped that Amy didn’t notice. “W-well, I, uh-,”

“What would you like to order, Sonic?” Amy said as she looked at the screen of her cash register, interrupting the stuttering hedgehog.

“Well, are you on the menu?”  Sonic thought, but all that came out of his mouth was, “You don’t happen to have those lemon-blueberry muffins do you?” 

Amy’s head shot up. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, “You remember the muffins that I used to give you?”

“Of course! They were like the best things I’ve ever tasted,” Sonic smiled, his eyes slightly squinting closed, his hand scratching the back of his head. “How could I forget?”

Amy looked at the hedgehog as he smiled. His blue quills, shining with the sun’s reflection, his cocky smile turning into a genuine grin. After all they’ve been through, he still remembers, the times where she would walk up to him, basket in hand, smile on her face, saying some type of compliment, which was received with a smile and a “Thanks, Ames” as he sped off to who knows where, doing who knows what. She always thought that he would just forget about them, since at that time he seemed to be busy, she had stopped giving him pastries as often. And with Eggman’s continuous schemes, even less. But that fact that he just remembered…

“Um, Ames?” Amy blinked. She had zoned out. 

“Huh?”

“Um, the muffins?” Sonic asked.

Amy gave a small smile, and said, “Yes, we do have some.”

“Great! Could I get two please?”

“Yup!,” She went under the counter to grab 2 lemon-blueberry muffins, she then put them in a brown paper bag. “5.69, please,”

Sonic paid her before saying, “See you later, Ames!” Then running off to once again who knows where.

…

It was now 4:25 pm, and Ames had closed up shop and was walking home, though there weren't many people at the Cafe today, the visit from Sonic made her ecstatic, though it didn’t seem like it when she was with him. She had learned to control the emotions she showed. However, it doesn’t seem like he knows how to.

As she walked towards her house, she saw a brown bag on her doorstep, the same type as the ones from her store. She picked up the bag, and opened it.

There were jasmine flowers, a pink rose, some strawberries, and a lemon-blueberry muffin. There was also a note, saying,

“Was strolling around the place.

Got some stuff that reminded me of you, thought you’d like it.

I’m free tomorrow and if Eggman doesn’t cause any chaos, 

I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Let me know if you 

want to. Missed your muffins, they were great as always.”

Catch ya later,

      Sonic 

Amy chuckled as she finished reading the note, red on her cheeks. She then put the note back it the bag, knowing that as soon she got inside, she would leave once more to leave him a note that said,

“Of course!”

-----------------------------------🩷💙------------------------------------

author's note- this is my first ever fanfic that I have written so apologies if kinda cringe, i'll take any tips, but overall i'm pretty happy with the results! also let me know if I made any mistakes, thanks for reading! <3